#cherry!pie!reader ♡

[rafesangelita]

thinking abt how rafe would be like when he takes the !readers virginities >.<

warnings: first times, sooo much praise, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, dirty talk, corruption kink, guided masturbation, oral (f. receiving), body worship, teasing, cream pie, overstimulation, hair pulling, breeding kink

₊˚⊹♡ bambi!reader:

poor bambi is soooo nervous, she’s trembling as rafe slips off her panties, his lips ghosting over the shell of her ear as he whispers the sweetest things to her. “m’gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl..” he’d insert his fingers in your mouth, telling you to get them nice and slick for him so he could ‘prep’ you for his cock. you’re gasping and whimpering his name when he finally curls his digits inside of you, your thighs threatening to shut around his hand when his thumb finds your sensitive bundle of nerves. “doing so good for me, bambi, ‘promise i’ll have you crying for another reason instead.” and he did. soon, your tears of discomfort turned into ones of pure bliss, your walls fluttering around the welcomed intrusion that was his cock. you’d be staring up at him with those doe eyes of yours while he pounded into you at an unforgiving speed, one hand stroking your clit, and the other wrapped around your neck as he made you unravel until you couldn’t take it anymore.

₊˚⊹♡ sheep!reader:

rafe felt like he was corrupting you with his filthiest fantasy yet. here, in front of him, he had your legs spread apart while he instructed you how to touch yourself. “doesn’t feel like you!” you’d cry out in frustration, your fingers doing nothing to stimulate you the way rafe’s did. he’d pinch your side for getting loud, a whimper leaving your lips at the action. “i just want you to do it yourself one time, baby, that’s all i’m asking.. y’think you can do that for me?” looking up to meet his heated gaze, you’d welcome his lips in a kiss before pathetically rubbing yourself over the pink cotton of your underwear. “you look like you’re close.. if you cum for me, maybe i’ll put it in..” that was all the encouragement you needed, rafe’s large hands cupping your tits as he pulled you onto his aching cock. you yelped when he poked at your entrance, your bottom lip raw from biting it so hard as he bounced you up and down his length. “poor baby, ‘gonna be so sore tomorrow, hmm?” burying your face in his neck, rafe would shush you while stroking your skin tenderly.

₊˚⊹♡ latina!kook!reader:

latina!kook!reader had rafe mesmerized the second he saw her, so now that she was bare beneath him, he couldn’t believe his eyes. far too perfect to be real, he made sure not an inch of her remained untouched. he was gentle as he lapped at the wetness between your thighs, his fingers intertwining with your own as your moans filled the air of your room. “you taste so sweet, angelita.” your eyes would flutter shut as your first orgasm of the night hit you in soft waves, each one magnifying the last. rafe kept tasting you, not being able to get enough until you begged him to be inside of you already. “por favor dámelo, ray— please give it to me, ray.” he cursed under his breath when he heard those words leave your mouth, both of smiling into a kiss as he sat between your folds. “ima give it to you, gorgeous.. i’ll give you whatever you ask for.” your face twisted in pain when he thrusted into you, the man above you holding you by your chin. “you’re so fucking perfect, i could cum just by hearing your voice.”

₊˚⊹♡ bitchy!kook!reader:

rafe is so smug that he gets to be her first fuck, he keeps saying things like, ‘you really gonna let me pop your cherry?’ which only makes her roll her eyes, even as rafe’s tapping his glistening tip against her clit. “can you stop being annoying—” your words die in your throat when he slips inside, both of you gasping as you enveloped every inch of him. “ah, fuck, why do i feel like i’m the one losing my virginity here?” rafe was whispering against your skin, your nails digging into his flesh when the dull ache between your legs turned into pure bliss. you’re kissing him frantically, your teeth clashing together as he pins you down to the mattress by your hips. “tell me you love this shit.” rafe is pulling your hair, forcing you to look down at where you two are connected as you gasp at the sight. “fuck you.” rafe laughs before flashing you a glare. “i already am.” in seconds, he has you in a mean mating press, the words “i love it, i love it, i love it!” is all you could muster as he fucks you absolutely stupid.

₊˚⊹♡ bitchy!pogue!reader:

she’s annoyed when rafe keeps bothering her about it, his fascination only growing for you when you let it slip that you’ve never slept with anyone before. “come on..” he’s in your ear, fingers slipping under your shirt, “just the tip, i promise.” what a lie that was. all it takes is barry leaving the trailer for a few hours before he’s bending you over, pressing your head into the pillows as he digs you out. your glittery nails are clutching your sheets for dear life, your hips moving to meet his thrusts when he starts stroking your clit. “i’m the only one who can fill up this cunt, you hear me?” you’re too busy crying tears of pleasure to acknowledge him, a yelp leaving your lips when he pulls you up against his chest. “just a brainless fuck doll, that’s what you are.” you’re nodding, letting him rut into you until he’s spilling into you, his seed making a mess between your thighs as he rubs your clit into overstimulation. “i’m gonna break you in just fine, babygirl, just wait and see.” you’re a fucked out mess by the time he pulls his clothes back on, his palm delivering a sharp smack to your ass before he’s leaving to conduct ‘business’.

₊˚⊹♡ kook!sweetheart!reader:

rafe is unsure, even as your robe slips off of your body, revealing the gorgeous lingerie set underneath. “i want it to be you,” rafe is welcoming you onto his lap, groaning when you drag your hips against his, “i want you on top of me.. inside of me..” your voice is soft in his ears, his skin feeling hot against yours. “is this what you really want? ‘want me to fuck you?” your wrapping your legs around his waist, both of your lips melting together perfectly. rafe could see the desire in your eyes, along with the nerves as he’s laying you down on your back. unsnapping your bra with one hand, he’s marveling at sight of your tits as they spill out of the lacey material. after making sure you came at least three times around his fingers, you were feeling ready as ever when he finally aligned himself with your entrance, his hand taking yours as he slowly pushed inside. you didn’t feel any pain, the stretch around his cock making you moan. “you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen, taking me so good like this..” rafe praised you, talking you through it all until you came, again and again, with a cry of his name.

₊˚⊹♡ farmer’s!daughter!reader:

a particular cowboy couldn’t wait to rock your world for the first time, even if it meant having to take you in the barn at three in the morning so you two couldn’t get caught by anyone. rafe is enthralled by your smile as the moonlight peaks through the old wood, casting its light onto your bodies. “sit still, sweetheart, i’m trynna make this as painless as possible..” rafe is holding you down, clamping a hand over your mouth to muffle your giggles. “you won’t hurt me—” as soon as he breaks into your walls, your shrieking at the mere girth alone, your eyes rolling back when you felt the ridges of his cock stroke the soft spot inside of you that made you see stars. hands flying out to hold onto his biceps, rafe starts thrusting into you until your whimpers turn into moans, your heels digging in his lower back so he could go deeper. “fuck, darlin’, i might have to breed you.. ‘lock this pussy down.” you clenched around him even tighter at the prospect of having him finish inside of you. “please, i want it!” you kissed his fingers, taking the digits between your lips as he smiled down at you. “yeah? have us some babies running around here?”

₊˚⊹♡ pogue!sweetheart!reader:

rafe was reeling when you told him it was your first time when he was already inside of you. “what?!” his eyes widened as you peered up at him innocently. “it’s okay!” you winced when he pulled out, his hands finding your own. “baby, why wouldn’t you tell me?” he was pressing kisses to your knuckles, concern etched all over his face. “i just didn’t want to make it a big deal..” you were whispering now, still needy for your boyfriend as he rolled on top of you. “i could understand that, but at least i’d be a bit more, you know.. gentle.” you laughed, throwing your leg over his hip so he was resting on your mound. “what if if i don’t want you to be?” rafe shuddered, the drop of your voice making his cock twitch. “those are dangerous words..” his jaw clenched as you sighed dreamily. “you could always just say no—” just as you pouted, he caged you between his arms and gave you exactly what you were asking for. of course, he still started off soft, kissing you warmly as his hips barely rocked into yours. but as soon as you were whining, begging for more force, his thrusts became brutal as he plowed into you like there was no tomorrow.

[cameronsbabydoll]

how are the !readers engagement rings?

oooo i luv these type of questions!!!!

spoiled!kook!reader bambi!reader puppy!reader

babydoll!reader bunny!reader cherry!pie!reader

[dahlibae]

WILL YOU COME HOME WITH ME?

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

(wanda maximoff x fem!reader)

summary — Wanda brought you home to meet her parents for the first time this Christmas, but for some reason, the woman is unable to keep her hands off you.

warning(s) — oneshot: age gap couple, alternative universe, mistletoe kisses, older!wanda, smut(?), nipple sucking, teasing (18+)

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The windshield wipers swiped rhythmically against the steady drizzle of snow as Wanda drove down the winding road towards her childhood home. The air inside the car was warm, the scent of fresh pine from a little tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror mixing with the lingering aroma of cinnamon from the hot chocolate you shared at the last rest stop. Wanda sat beside you, her gloved hand that wasn’t focused on driving the vehicle occasionally pointed out landmarks from her past—a diner she swore made the best cherry pie, the park where she and Pietro used to sled down the biggest hill, and the bridge where she'd once dared him to climb to the top… all for him to fall off and break his arm.

Her voice softened when she spoke about her parents. “They’ll love you.” She said, more to herself than to you, but you caught the edge of nervousness in her tone. She hadn’t brought home a partner since Vision – her ex husband – and you were, well, nothing like him. For one, you were a woman and her parents weren’t even aware of their daughter’s sexuality. And two, you were quite younger than her. You reached over, resting a hand on hers. She gave you a quick smile before looking back out the window.

The sky dimmed as she turned onto a long, snow-covered driveway lined with bare trees. At the end of it stood a cozy two-story house, its windows glowing golden against the winter evening. A wreath decorated the front door, and string lights framed the roofline, casting a cheerful, twinkling light over the yard. Wanda inhaled deeply as she parked, then turned to you.“Ready?” She asked, her voice almost teasing. You nodded, though your heart thudded nervously.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The warmth of the house embraced you immediately as you stepped inside, the scent of freshly baked cookies and coffee filling the air. Wanda’s mother - Iryna - greeted you with a hug that was surprisingly strong for her petite frame, her Sokovian accent making her words feel like a soft melody. Her - Olek - father shook your hand firmly, his eyes kind yet probing. He was staggeringly tall, even taller than her twin brother who must’ve been over six foot. It was clear Wanda took after him the most. Pietro wasn’t far behind, slapping you on the back with a grin that matched Wanda’s when she was up to something mischievous. You had met him before. He had came over to Wanda’s house one day, not expecting his sister to have anyone over, but found you… underneath her.

In no time, you were sat on the couch, a little overwhelmed but charmed by Wanda’s mother after she had led you deeper into the living room, already firing off a million questions. Wanda was sitting next to you, her hand occasionally brushing against yours as she joined in on her mother’s conversation with you, before she was whisked away, leaving you defenceless against her mother.

Pietro had been mischievous all evening. Every so often, you’d catch him whispering to Wanda or their dad before smirking in your direction. You figured he was just enjoying teasing his sister about bringing someone home for the holidays, and him being the only person in the room to know prior to Christmas.

You had finally settled in once Wanda had made her way back to your side, when Pietro suddenly appeared, a gleam in his eye. In his hand was a sprig of mistletoe, held high above you both. "Look at this!" He announced, drawing everyone’s attention. "A little holiday magic, right here!"

Your face went warm immediately, and you caught Wanda's eye. She looked equally surprised, her cheeks flushed. Her parents chuckled softly, sharing a knowing glance.

"Pietro.” Wanda warned, her tone half-amused, half-exasperated.

"But, sis, it’s tradition!" He declared, unapologetic, holding the mistletoe steady above the two of you. "You wouldn’t want to break tradition now, would you?"

You glanced at Wanda, unsure of what to do. Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, the noise of the room seemed to fade. Then, before you could think too much, she leaned in. Her hands cupped your cheeks, and her lips pressed softly against yours. The kiss was gentle but sure; family friendly and yet still managed to send warmth spreading through you like the glow of the fire.

When she pulled back, her eyes lingered on yours, a mix of shyness and confidence in her expression. Around you, the room erupted in playful cheers, Pietro’s laughter loudest of all.

“Guess you really like tradition, sis. He teased, earning a glare from Wanda that only made him laugh harder.

Her mother chimed in, her voice warm. “It’s good to see you happy, my love.”

“Thank you, Mama.” Wanda voiced before reaching for your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours as she leaned closer, ignoring Pietro’s continued antics. “Sorry about him,” she murmured, her voice just for you, “he lives for chaos.”

You smiled, squeezing her hand. “I don’t mind.”

She tilted her head, studying you for a moment before breaking into a soft smile. “Good,” she said, her voice almost a whisper, before she placed another quick kiss to your lips.

Afterwards, dinner was a whirlwind of laughter, clinking glasses, and stories that made Wanda groan and bury her face in her hands. You noticed how her family’s teasing only made her more endearing, her cheeks permanently flushed pink with a mix of embarrassment and affection. A reaction you’d rarely see with the older woman. By the time dessert was served, you felt more at ease, the initial nervousness melting away as Wanda reached under the table to squeeze your hand.

Later that night, after the dishes had been cleared and her family had gone to bed, you found yourself in Wanda’s old room. It was smaller than you expected, the walls painted a soft lavender and adorned with faded posters of bands and movies from her teenage years. You wouldn’t admit it to the woman but some of these bands you had no clue of. A small Christmas tree sat in the corner, its ornaments mismatched but charming, clearly a collection built over the years. She sat cross-legged on the bed, watching you with a soft smile as you took in the space. “It’s weird being back here,” she admitted, “so much has changed, but this room... it’s like time stood still.”

You nodded, moving to sit beside her. “It’s nice,” you said honestly. “It feels like you.”

Her smile widened as she leaned against your shoulder. The house was quiet now, save for the faint creaks of the old wood settling, the muffled sound of wind outside and the series coming from her brother’s room. For a moment, you simply sat there, soaking in the stillness, the glow of the little tree casting a soft light across the room. “Thank you for coming,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “It means a lot to me.”

You turned to her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“Baby, no, stop, we’ll get caught.” You whispered, voice barely audible over the TV show playing in the background. Your hands hovered over her waist, unsure whether to pull her closer or gently push her away. Now, she was straddling your lap, her warm breath fanning against the crook of your neck. Her lips, teasing as usual, trailed wet kisses down to your collarbone, sending shivers coursing through your body. You bit your lip to keep from making a sound, every nerve in your body screaming at you to give in to her touch.

“Wanda.” You pleaded again, though your voice lacked conviction, and your hands had finally settled on her waist, fingertips brushing against the soft material of her open blouse. She chuckled softly, the sound low and sultry, vibrating against your skin.

"What’s the matter, baby?" She murmured, voice dripping with mischief. She nipped at your pulse, her teeth grazing your skin just enough to make your breath hitch. "Afraid someone will hear?"

You tilted your head back against the headboard, your gaze darting toward the door. It was closed, but the faint sound of her brother’s TV reminded you just how thin the walls were. "We’re in your parents' house.” You hissed, though your grip on her waist tightened as she rolled her hips into yours again.

"And?" She teased, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. Her green ones sparkled with a mix of amusement and desire, a smirk playing on her lips. Her red hair was slightly tousled, and the glow of the fireplace painted her cheeks a soft pink.

You swallowed hard, your resolve crumbling under her gaze. “And you know I can’t keep quiet.” You pouted, hoping to win some sympathy from her - it usually worked.

“Aw, that’s okay.” She leaned back and you thought you had won, until you noticed her reaching for her remote to turn the volume of her TV up. “I can just help you keep quiet.” She leaned in once again, brushing her nose against yours, her breath warm against your lips. Before you could protest further, her lips claimed yours in a heated kiss - much more intense than the last. Your hands moved of their own accord, sliding up her back and pulling her closer as her hips rocked harder against yours.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“Look at me, princess.”

You were laid on your back. Your clothes and bra long forgotten as they were flung from your body and onto the floor next to hers. You felt Wanda shift from beside you, her body no longer pressed against yours, as her hands began to push your legs apart, placing herself between them. It didn’t take long for her fingers to find you, making slow circles against you through your soaked panties. “Is this what you want?” She asked, but you couldn’t respond, too wrapped up in the pleasure of her fingers and the sight of her breasts pooling over her bra.

She took your silence as an answer.

“No? You don’t?” Her fingers slowed, now trailing up and down, just missing your clit.

“No, please!” You cried out, hips bucking into her touch. “I mean, I- please, Wands.”

She shushed you, leaning over to place soft soothing kisses against your lips. “It’s okay, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Need you to touch me.” You replied without a breath, no longer concerned if her family heard you or not. She pressed her lips firmer against yours, tongue softly stroking against yours as she hummed her approval into your mouth.

“Okay, princess. Remember to stay quiet, okay? We don’t want to wake anyone up.” You felt your body clench at her words, as her head ducked, tongue swiping against your nipple, she has sucked between her lips.

“My good girl,” she mumbled, your nipple pulled from between her teeth as she switched to the other. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” You managed to say between whines.

Wanda rewarded you by pulling your panties down, fingers rolling tight circles around your nerves until you came with her name spilling from your lips, and into her curls, as she held you in her arms.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

[dollyfiles]

INTRODUCING.. SWEETHEART!READER ₊˚⊹♡

pure soul. doe-eyes. polka dots. red nails. dreamer. vintage. coffee and vanilla. mini skirts. lace. paired with single!dad!rafe.

SWEETHEART!READER who is a 25 year old waitress at rosie’s diner, a charming old-school spot with checkered floors, red vinyl booths, and a jukebox that still plays rock ‘n’ roll classics. she’s been working since she was barely a teenager, hustling to escape a rough home that taught her resilience but never hardened her heart. she earned the nickname sweetheart from the regulars—not just because she’s got a kind spirit and always a smile on her face, but because she has a way of making everyone feel seen, even on their worst days.

SWEETHEART!READER who is warm and generous, but still nobody’s fool. sweetheart got a vintage soul, soft curls in her honey smooth hair, a swing dress hugging her waist, and a swipe of cherry-red lipstick on her heart-shaped lips. she’s learned how to handle the flirty old-timers at the diner with ease, shutting down their bad pickup lines without losing her charm. she’s got a backbone of steel when it comes to standing up for herself and others, especially the new girls at the diner who might not have found their voice yet.

SWEETHEART!READER who has a deep love for music. when she’s alone in her tiny apartment, she’ll put on a record and dance barefoot in the kitchen, letting the music take her worries away. she also plays the guitar—and sings with a voice that could stop time. she is not a professional by any means, but she has a knack for whipping up the perfect homemade pie or a batch of warm cinnamon rolls. she also never leaves the house without her dainty gold heart-shaped locket necklace, which was the very last thing her granny gave her before passing away, leaving her to figure out how to handle everything on her own.

SWEETHEART!READER who has always been careful with her heart. she grew up seeing what happens when love turns into something heavy and painful, so she promised herself she’d never settle for anything less than the real thing. and then rafe and his little girl walked into her life, giving her security in a way she has never known. and once she falls, it’s deep. from the moment he saw her, it’s like something clicked into place. he wasn’t looking for love either, but there was something magical about her and despite their age difference, she softens the edges of his world in a way no one ever did before.

ᥫ᭡ how sweetheart!reader and single!dad!rafe met

ᥫ᭡ single!dad!rafe asking sweetheart!reader out

ᥫ᭡ how sweetheart!reader and single!dad!rafe’s first date went

.ᐟ layout credit/inspo: @rafesangelita

tags: @gibson-g1rl @dearapril @rafecami @fawnhart @isasweetie @beausling @angellocket @rafesbowbunny @rafesangelita @chris444evr @drewsephrry @littlelamy @sturn777 @bradshawed @cherrygirlfriend @trusweethrt @inspiredangel @whinyangel @et6rnalsun @luckycrys @bluemerakis @figthoughts @rafeysbangs

[keithyp00]

'*•.¸♡ Stupid Cupid, Stop Picking On Me ♡¸.•*'

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings/Tags: slow-burn, romance, humor, fluff, slight angst, mutual pining, romantic tension, morning sweetness, vulnerability

Song Inspiration: Stupid Cupid by Connie Francis

Word Count:2.1K

Author Note: Hi again! This fic has been stuck in my head all day so here I am writing it and pushing some of my other fic ideas back a couple of days. My last one didn't do as well as I was hoping overnight so if you like this one please go check out Timeless. Thank you guys! (And Happy Mother's Day for those who celebrate!)

Please do not copy or translate any of my works. Thank you!

You weren't exactly sure when Bucky Barnes became your problem.

Maybe it was when Steve asked you- sweet, pleading Steve- to check in on him after the whole time-travel thing. Maybe it was when you saw Bucky sulking at a farmer's market like a feral cat trying to adapt to a domestic life, poking at ripe peaches like they had personally offended him. Or maybe it was when you found yourself holding two coffee cups and wondering why one of them always seemed to be for him.

"Stupid Cupid," you muttered, tripping over a sidewalk crack. "Quit messing with my head."

Because how else could you explain? The flutter in your chest every time Bucky narrowed his eyes at you. The way your stomach flipped when he threw that infuriating little smirk your way- like he knew something that you shouldn't.

You should hate him.

He was moody. He didn't text back. He once told you that your playlist sounded like 'a sock hop and a migraine had a baby.' And yet, when he stood too close in the kitchen of your shared safehouse, or brushed his hand against yours when he passed the remote, you felt like a walking daydream.

______________________________________________________________

It was Tony's lake house, technically. But since he wasn't around anymore- and Sam insisted Bucky get used to 'civilian life'- you'd all rotated through it like some kind of Airbnb. For the last month, it had just been you and him. And your rapidly imploding patience.

"Can you not stare- no, glower- at the mailman like he owes you something?" You asked one sunny morning, squinting through the screen door as Bucky stood on the porch, his arms crossed like some sort of bouncer.

He simply didn't answer, which infuriated you even more.

You groaned, sipping your coffee and reminding yourself to not shove him into the lake. Because despite the grump, despite the sarcasm, despite the fact that he wore gloves in the middle of July sometimes- he was good. He was thoughtful, sometimes in ways that snuck up on you.

Like how he left Post-Its on your laptop that said, 'Eat something.' Or how he'd fixed the wobbly leg on your favorite chair without saying a word. Or how he stood outside your room every night, headphones in, until you fell asleep just to 'make sure it was safe.'

And yeah- maybe you noticed the way his hair curled after a shower. Or how his voice went all gravel and hush when he said your name. Or how he smelled like cedarwood and mystery.

But that didn't mean you liked him. Right?

______________________________________________________________

It was the pie that broke you.

Not your spine in a sparring match. Not the blackout you both endured during a rogue power surge. Not even the time he carried you through mud because you twisted your ankle.

No. It was the goddamn cherry pie.

You were baking. Sort of. Trying to, anyway. The crust was partially uneven, your hands were sticky, and you were muttering something about 'defeating the patriarchy through pastry.'

He leaned in the doorway, arms folded. Watching. Always watching.

"You're talking to the dough," he stated.

You didn't look up. "She's rude. She needs discipline."

Bucky snorted- snorted- and you stared at him like he'd grown another metal arm.

"Did you just laugh?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't laugh."

"Tell that to the dough," you snapped, cheeks hot. "What do you want, Barnes?"

"I smelled sugar," he said, shameless. "Was hoping you'd share."

You rolled your eyes. "I thought you didn't like sweets?"

His voice went low. Dangerous. "I like yours."

Your hands froze in the leftover flour.

And suddenly, you weren't thinking about the pie. You were thinking about the way he looked at you sometimes- like he couldn't decide if he wanted to kiss you or run. Like you were both a threat and a safehouse.

"Stupid Cupid," you muttered again, flustered. "I swear to God-"

"What?"

"Nothing."

The pie actually came out fairly decent, the edges of the crust a little burnt, but fairly tolerable. And Bucky, he ate the whole thing, or most of it anyway.

______________________________________________________________

It got worse after that.

Every glance lingered too long. Every argument had an edge of flirtation behind it. You kept pretending not to notice the way he always found a reason to sit beside you. How his knees would bump beneath the table. How he started playing your music in the kitchen.

And when you finally snapped one night- pacing on the porch, wine in hand, muttering about how, 'he's ruining everything with those ridiculous blue eyes'- you hadn't realized he was standing in the doorway behind you.

He pushed his body off the doorframe and walked toward the railing of the porch, his expression incredibly too smug for your liking.

"I'm ridiculous now?"

You flinched, whipping around. "Jesus- do you sneak for fun?"

"Occupational hazard." His smirk widened. "What else did you say about my eyes?"

"Nothing," you said quickly. Too quickly. "Shut up."

He stepped closer. "Make me."

You blinked. Then laughed. Loud, bright, and disbelieving.

"What are you, twelve?"

"I was," he deadpanned. "Once."

You rolled your eyes. "You're impossible."

And then he said it. Quiet. Honest. Barely audible beneath the breeze. "You make it hard."

You blinked again. "What?"

He cleared his throat. Looked away. "To stay... detached."

The wine slipped from your fingers. Luckily, the bottle was already empty.

You stared at him. At the scars on his knuckles. The lashes that framed those godforsaken eyes. The lip he kept biting like he regretted saying anything.

And you realized- he wasn't teasing.

He meant it.

Stupid. Damned. Cupid.

You stepped forward. He didn't flinch.

"I don't want detached," you said softly

He looked at you. Really looked. Like you were sunlight and danger and the last good thing in the world.

His voice cracked. "I'm not easy to love."

"I don't want easy either."

You reached for him. Gloved hand, then metal. He let you, but you heard his breathing stutter. And when you leaned in- testing the waters, testing fate- he met you halfway.

It wasn't fireworks.

It was softer. Stranger. The kind of kiss that steals your balance and leaves you wondering where you end and they begin.

When you finally pulled back, you smiled.

"Still think I talk too much?"

He nodded. "Absolutely."

Then he kissed you again. Harder.

______________________________________________________________

Later, tangled on the porch swing with his arm around you and your head on his shoulder, you hummed a familiar tune. Under your breath. Just loud enough for him to hear.

"Stupid Cupid, stop pickin' on me..."

He groaned. "If you start singing that in the morning-"

"You'll what?" You teased. "Fall even more in love with me?"

He didn't answer. But the way he pulled you closer said enough.

______________________________________________________________

You woke up with his hoodie under your cheek and a breeze on your knees.

The sun filtered through the curtains inside like a lazy golden hand, dust swirling in the air like dandelions. You blinked, registering three things:

You were curled up on the porch swing.

Bucky Barnes was asleep beside you.

His metal arm was around your waist like it belonged there.

"Stupid Cupid," you murmured again, though it came out softer this time. Less bitter. Almost... giddy.

His chest rose and fell in a rhythm you were already memorizing. Peaceful. Unarmored. Mouth parted slightly, lashes casting shadows, hair falling into his face.

You wanted to touch him.

Not in the hungry, let's-make-out-on-the-porch kind of way. You simply wanted to run your fingers through his hair. Trace the scar near his eyebrow. Press your palm to the pace just under his collarbone where he always kept his tension.

You settled for tucking his hoodie around his side, trying not to shiver from the early morning air.

"You're staring," he said, voice husky with sleep.

You yelped. "I-no, I was just-"

"Keep lying. You're adorable when you panic."

Your face flushed and Bucky grinned as a response. "So. We kissed."

You tucked your knees under your chin. "We did."

He finally looked at you, blinking slowly. "How do you feel about that?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"On whether you're going to brood about it for three days and avoid me."

He let out a quiet huff of laughter. "I'd never avoid you."

"Really? Because last month you avoided Sam for hating on your music taste."

"That was justified."

You rolled your eyes and smacked his arm- flesh, not metal. The little grin that flickered on his lips made your stomach tumble.

"So what does this mean?" You asked quietly. "Us. The... kissing."

He went still. Then sat up, brushing his hair back with one hand.

"It means," he said slowly, "that I want more."

More?

More of you? More kissing? More sleepless nights lying next to each other on a porch swing, tangled up in feelings too big to name?

You swallowed. "Okay."

His eyes searched yours. "Okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah. But you have to stop the staring problem, especially at strangers, I agree with Sam on that one."

"No promises."

______________________________________________________________

You didn't talk about it for a few days. Not directly, anyway.

But everything shifted.

He cooked breakfast before you got up- black coffee, toast, eggs that were slightly overcooked but made with obvious care. You found him waiting on the couch every evening with a blanket folded beside him like an invitation. He started brushing your hand every time you passed him something. Not an accident. Not anymore.

You tried not to let your heart explode about it.

Didn't work.

Especially not when he started calling you 'Doll' without a trace of irony.

Or when he found an old record player in the attic, fixed it, and played your favorite 60s vinyl like it was nothing.

Or when he got jealous over a guy in town who complimented your outfit and sulked for the next hour.

______________________________________________________________

It came to a head one evening during a thunderstorm.

You were barefoot, twirling in the kitchen while "Stupid Cupid" played on the record player- loud and cheeky, your voice warbling off-key along with it.

"Stupid Cupid, you're a real mean guy-"

"Jesus Christ," Bucky muttered behind you, towel around his shoulders, still damp from fixing the gutters in the rain. "You still know all the words?"

You spun, grinning. "I was born in the wrong decade."

"Clearly."

He crossed the kitchen slowly. Red Henley sticking to his chest. Hair dripping onto his forehead. You didn't realize you stopped breathing until he was right in front of you, blue eyes bright, towel abandoned.

"You like this song because it reminds you of me, huh?"

You swallowed. "Maybe."

His hand brushed your waist. "You like me, doll?"

You nodded, heart pounding. "Maybe."

"Then shut up and dance with me."

You didn't think. You just fell into him.

He swayed with you under the soft crackle of vinyl, your feet slipping against his boots, your laughter dying against the fabric of his shirt.

"I'm getting you soaked," he said into your hair.

"Can confirm," he mumbled.

He choked on a laugh. "It wasn't a question- god, you're a menace."

"Your menace," you whispered.

He froze. Pulled back. Looked at you. And then he kissed you. Slow, deep, reverent.

It didn't feel like the one you shared on the porch. This one felt like a promise.

______________________________________________________________

Later, after changing into dry clothes and curling up beside him on the couch, you whispered the question that had been living under your tongue for days.

"Do I scare you?"

He blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"I mean... you never let people in. You barely let Sam in. And now you're-" you gestured between you. "Letting me in. Doesn't that terrify you?"

He exhaled. Then reached for your hand, metal fingers wrapping around yours.

"It does," he said. "But not because of you. Because I don't want to ruin it."

You stared at him. All of him. The scars, the war, the tenderness.

"You couldn't ruin this if you tried."

He looked away. "I've ruined things before."

You tilted his face toward you with your fingertips.

"Then don't run," you whispered. "When it gets hard. When I yell because you left dishes in the sink. When I forget to say goodnight. Just... stay."

His jaw flexed. "You'd want me to stay? Even when I'm a mess?"

You smiled. "Especially then."

______________________________________________________________

That night, you fell asleep with your head on his chest, listening to the storm fade into silence and his heartbeat slow to something steady. Something safe.

"Stupid Cupid," you whispered one last time into the dark.

And Bucky- half asleep, fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm- mumbled back, "Yeah... but I'm glad he chose to pick on you."

[kaleldobrev]

Old Man

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Summary: Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (13x), Sexual Innuendos, Dean talking bad about himself, Frat guys giving Y/N the disrespect she doesn’t deserve Authors Note: Me and Jensen have a 17-year age gap – what’s your age gap? | This came out A LOT longer than I expected | I don’t know how to write frat guys xD | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You and Dean pulled up in front of a gas station; needing to stop for gas and maybe a few snacks before the two of you continued your almost four-hour long journey back to the Bunker. You and Dean had just spent the weekend in Lawrence, due to the very rare occurrence that there were no cases. You had told Dean that even though you’d been living at the Bunker with him and Sam for the past couple of years, you had never once been to Lawrence even though you could have easily made a day trip out of it. With that being said, Dean was more than happy to take you and show you around, reminiscing about some of the things that he remembered doing all those years ago back when he was four; back before everything. But that’s not all the trip was, you had done some other things too; like visiting the Biodiversity Institute and Natural History Museum – which was considered to be one of the best museums in the entire state of Kansas, along with Grinter Farms – who prided themselves on their sunflower photo-ops. You enjoyed both places immensely, and were happy that Dean did too, even if he wasn’t initially keen on going to either place at first.

“I’m gonna grab us some snacks while you do the pump.” You said, grabbing your wallet from the glove compartment. Once you closed it and before you exited the car, you looked over at Dean, who was currently giving you the most serious look on his face. “What?”

“You already know what I’m going to say Sweetheart.” His tone sounding just as serious as his facial expression had looked. 

“Pie.” You said in unison.

“Cherry or apple?” You asked, the two of you getting out of the car at the same time.

“Like you have to ask.” Dean stated, opening up the fuel cap.

“Just making sure Dean. I mean, I don’t want to come out with apple when you really wanted cherry.” Your comment earned a slight chuckle from him.

“I’ll be getting some cherry pie later, don’t you worry.” He winked.

“I don’t think that applies to me anymore.” You smirked.

“We can always pretend.” He started fueling Baby just then. 

“Now that’s a roleplay idea I can get behind.” You winked at him before making your way into the store.

As soon as you walked into the store to grab some snacks for the two of you – one of which needed to be pie; a car pulled up the next pump over with a group of about four men who all appeared to be from the University of Kansas solely based on their Jayhawks apparel. “I don’t know dude. I’m pretty sure that chick was into me.” One of the men said, causing the one that he was talking to, to roll his eyes.

“No dude. She was into me. She was giving me the old fuck me eyes. Did you not see that? Or were you too busy looking at her ass?” He laughed. It was the other guy’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Can you blame me? You could bounce a quarter off that thing.” The young man replied.

“Hell yeah you could!” The other one agreed, giving each other a high five. 

There was a part of Dean that found their conversation funny because he had remembered when he was like that; but it hadn’t been for some time. Yes, there were times when he was still like that, but it was solely reserved for one woman: and that woman was you.

“Check out that piece of ass in the store there.” Another one of the men who hadn’t talked before was talking now. His comment caused Dean to turn in their direction and then back into the store. There was no other person that they could be talking about but you, as you were the only person in there besides the clerk behind the counter; and Dean was pretty sure they weren’t talking about the balding clerk.

“Bet she’s a good fuck.” One of the men said. Oh you have no idea. Dean thought to himself. 

“I’ll bet you thirty bucks that I can convince her to have sex with me.” The first guy said, the one that had noticed you in the first place.

“Dude, there’s no fucking way she’d have sex with you.” The next guy said. “Look at her! She’s way out of your league. Plus, even if you could pull her, where are the two of you gonna do it uh? The dirty gas station bathroom?” 

“Sure why not? I bet she wouldn’t mind it at all.” He winked. His comment caused Dean to chuckle a little to himself, knowing how wrong that guy was. You and Dean have had sex in a variety of different places, but never a gas station bathroom. “Dean, as much as I love you, I’m not fucking in a gas station bathroom. That’s honestly my only limitation.” You once told him. “So, Waffle House bathroom is okay then?” He joked back, causing you to give him a playful smack on the arm from his remark. 

“Dude, she’s not gonna give you the time of day. She needs a real man. And that ain’t you.” The man started walking around to the other side of the pump and started making his way toward the store. You ain’t a real man dude. Dean thought to himself. None of them were what he would call a man, only boys pretending to be.

“Watch and learn boys!” The guy said using his most charismatic voice. Dean wasn’t worried at all; he knew that you would never give the guy the time of day. You two had been together for the last couple of years, and the group of quote on quote men weren’t remotely your type in the slightest. Dean had seen pictures of your previous exes or have worked cases with them before. All your previous exes besides about one were all hunters; not varsity jock looking guys, and that’s what those guys were.

“Hey kid, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean finally chimed in. At first, he wasn’t even going to say anything. He had almost wanted to see the boy come back out the store with the look of utter embarrassment on his face when you had rejected him; which he knew was going to happen. But the jealous side of him won in that moment. He knew that you were more than capable of handling yourself – you were one of the best hunters he’d ever seen or worked with. He’d seen you get hit on plenty of times either when you two went to the bar together or while working a case; but those men never seemed like threats to him. But this time, this time felt different for him.

“I’m sorry?” The guy questioned.

“I said, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean said, his voice a bit more stern than usual.

“What’s it to you?” The guy asked, giving a slight snort.

“She’s going to reject you buddy. Trust me.” Dean finished filling the car up and put the pump back in its place. “Just trying to save you the embarrassment in front of your buddies here.”

“Oh yeah? Why do you say that?” The guy turned to look at you. You were currently standing at the counter laughing, probably at something the clerk had just said with two apple pie containers in your hands. Although Dean couldn’t hear your laugh, the sound of it echoed in his brain. God, he loved the sound of your laugh.

“That piece of ass” Dean began to say, hating using the words that they had used to describe you, “is my girlfriend.” Dean smirked. He had hoped that his usual tactic would work like it had done in the past. In the past, whenever Dean was with a woman; regardless if she was his girlfriend or not, the minute he said the word girlfriend to another guy that was hitting on his girlfriend, date, etc. the guy would usually back off, not wanting to get into any trouble. But his usual tactic didn’t work, it had simply just made the guy laugh.

“Your girlfriend?” The man laughed again. “Yeah, okay Old Man.” 

“Old, Old Man?” Dean was caught off guard. No one had ever really called him an old man before; the only one who ever did it was Claire, but she was the exception, because she was basically family to him.

“Yeah. What are you? Like 50?” The guy behind him chimed in.

Dean turned around. “50? You think I’m 50? I’m 42 dude.” Yet more laughter from the men.

“Close enough.” The man that was close to the store said. At that moment Dean had saw you wave goodbye to the clerk and started to head out toward the door. The man looked at you, and then eyed his buddies, making his way toward Dean. “Listen, tell her that if she wants someone that can keep it up without the use of meds and doesn’t go to bed before 6, to give me a call.” The guy said, giving Dean’s shoulder a slight pat before going into the car with his other three buddies.

Dean started to take out his gun just as the guy in the driver’s seat started the engine. Before he could fully take out his gun you were standing next to him, two boxes of pie in your hands and a slight look of worry on your face. “Can I shoot them?” He asked you. 

“Not in public.” You responded, handing him one of the boxes. “What did they say to you?” You were curious, and you had every right to be. Even though you were accustomed to Dean pulling out his gun, you were confused as to why he had wanted to pull it out in that moment, especially since you were pretty sure that the men in the car weren’t any kind of monsters.

“Nothing.” Dean was quick to respond, but his response sounded angry, almost hurt.

“It didn’t look like nothing. Especially since you asked if you could shoot them.” Dean handed you back the box of pie that you had just given him, causing you to give him an even more worried look.

“Can we just leave?” His voice was panicked now, maybe with a small hint of embarrassment.

“Yeah.” Was all you said as the two of you got into Baby.

There was a strong silence between the two of you, and it wasn’t the comfortable kind like you were used to. That was one of the things that you had loved most about Dean; that you and him didn’t constantly need to fill the silence with talking. It was something that you enjoyed because your past boyfriends always needed to have some kind of conversation going because they hated the silence. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Always.” You turned your attention to Dean.

“Am I…Am I old?” He asked. His eyes flicked in your direction and then back onto the road.

“Old?” You asked, not sure if you had heard him right. Him asking if he was old was something that had caught you off guard.

“Yeah. Am I old?” He repeated again.

“Did those guys back there say you were old Dean?” This conversation topic was something that Dean would have never brought up, not unless someone had specifically said something to him. The last time he had this conversation with you was because Claire had jokingly called him an Old Man.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Dean stated. You were positive that’s what it was.

“No. You’re not old Dean. I don’t even know why you would think that.” You knew why he would think that; you were pretty sure that the men back at the gas station had said something to him about it. But you didn’t know why they would have said something to him.

“Those guys back at the gas station called me…Old Man.” His voice sounded slightly defeated, like he was embarrassed even though he had no reason to be. “I caught those assholes looking at you, making comments.” He turned to face you for a slight moment before looking back at the road, his knuckles started to turn white as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “They were trying to make a bet about who would be able to pick you up. When I confronted them about it, telling them that you were my girlfriend, that’s when they laughed and called me an old man.”

“Dean –” You began to say, but he cut you off before you could finish.

“Sweetheart, I know you could have handled that yourself. You have a black belt in three different martial arts and you don’t take any kind of shit from anyone. Hell, a part of me had wanted to see you embarrass the guy because I know for a fact that he isn’t your type but…he was your age.” He was your age. 

“Well, you’re not old. It’s not like you’re 90 Dean. You’re 42. That’s still young.” You stated, putting your hand on his thigh, a small gesture that you knew he loved. You had hoped that your comment would make him feel slightly better.

“I’m not young Sweetheart, you are. I got like 15 years on you.” His response made your face drop.

“That’s never been a problem for you before. I mean, it’s not like I’m 17 Dean, I’m three years shy of 30.” When you first met Dean, it was roughly five years ago when you were 22 and he was 37. Initially when you had first met him, you had figured that the two of you would be nothing more than just friends due to the semi-massive age difference that there was between the two of you, despite the fact that you did find him attractive. For the first couple of years that you knew him, you didn’t try to pursue anything; and neither did he, although the two of you had similar feelings. Dean had figured that you wouldn’t want to be with someone his age, and you thought that he didn’t want to be with someone your age. It wasn’t until Cas said something and both of you almost dying on a hunt that caused you two to realize that maybe you should give it a shot – and you’ve been together ever since.

“Exactly. You’re three years shy of 30. I’m far, far past that. You know what I was doing at 30? Trying to stop the Apocalypse. When I was 30, you were still in high school. You weren’t even on my radar back then.” 

“Would have been pretty good jailbait though.” You joked.

“Not funny.” He responded.

“I’m not laughing.” You said back.

“Can I ask you another question?” His knuckles were still white against the steering wheel. 

“Of course.” What else could you possibly say?

“Why me? Why out of all the guys you could possibly be with, that are your own age, that you actively choose to be with me? I mean, I know I drink too much, I have way, way too many screws loose, I’ve been to Hell, Purgatory, been possessed more times than I can count, I have major trust issues, PTSD.” He looked over at you again. “The list goes on and on. I’m all kinds of fucked up Sweetheart.” Your heart sank at Dean’s comments. You hated more than anything when he talked bad about himself, because there was no reason for him to do that.��

“Pull over.” Was all you said.

Dean looked at you with a confused expression. “What?”

“Did I stutter? I said pull over.” Your voice was stern now, but it made Dean pull over on the side of the road.

“Dean, the fact that you even have to ask me why I’m with you shows me that you don’t actually realize or understand the reasons why I love you. You’re right, I could be with someone my own age. But you know what? I don’t want to. I’ve dated people my age, and they honestly suck. Hunters or not, men my age or even a year or two older have no fucking clue what they want in life. The only thing they’re positive about is wanting to fuck anything that has a pulse and gaslight women.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “My parents used to tell me, ‘not all men,’ and I knew that. You may have a slight case of alcoholism –”

“A slight case?” Dean interrupted, raising an eyebrow. He thought you saying that he only had a slight case of alcoholism was a tad too generous.

You pointed a finger at him. “Don’t interrupt me.” Dean put up his hands in defeat. “As I was saying. You may have a slight case of alcoholism, are insanely prone to nightmares, get angry more often than you probably should, enjoy murder every now and then, have been to Hell and Purgatory and back, but wanna know something? I’ll take all of that, gladly! Because you are honestly the best man I could ever ask for. Yes, you have some flaws, but who doesn’t? I mean look at me for example.” You went into your jacket and pulled out your hunting knife. “I’m someone who brings a hunting knife wherever they go like it’s a security blanket. No normal person does that Dean.”

“As you should. You need to be prepared at a moments notice.” He agreed.

“Exactly! No sane person would agree with me.” You said, putting back your hunting knife.

“Y/N, are you saying that part of the reason you’re with me is because I’m not sane?” He raised an eyebrow. He’s been called crazy or insane more times than he could count, so this wasn’t particularly newsworthy for him.

“I was thinking more…cautious.” You shrugged. “I mean…No, cautious isn’t the right word. You are cautious but…” You were really trying to come up with the right word to tell Dean, and you could feel it on the tip of your tongue. “What I’m trying to say is, any other guy would be freaked the fuck out if they saw me walking around with a hunting knife in my jacket. You? You couldn’t give two fucks. And you wanna know something else? I’ve worked with a lot of hunters over the years before I met up with you and Sam, who just looked at me and laughed because of my age, thinking that I don’t know the difference between rock salt and holy water.” You took one of his hands in yours intertwining your fingers. “You, not including Sam of course, accepted me as someone that actually knows a thing or two about hunting despite my age. You treated me like your equal. Hunter or not.”

You treated me like your equal. Your words rang in Dean’s mind. “Of course I treat you like my equal Sweetheart. What man wouldn’t? ‘Sides those other hunters and the Jayhawks spirit squad back there.” He chuckled, and you let out a small laugh too.

“Exactly. You’re a feminist icon.” You smiled.

“A feminist icon uh? Who knew?” Dean finally smiled.

“In all seriousness, I could give a rat’s ass about your age. You treat me right and my parents love you. What else could I possibly ask for?” You gave his hand a slight squeeze as you shot him another smile, but a softer one this time.

“Still amazed that your parents love me.” He said, starting to lean in closer to you.

“You treat their daughter right. That’s all they care about.” You confessed. When you had first told your parents about Dean, one of the first things they asked is if he was treating you right, they never asked about his age. And when they had met him, they still never commented on that fact, even when he wasn’t in the room.

He caressed your face. “I really am lucky to have you.” He smiled and leaned in fully to kiss you. “I love you so much.”

You smiled. “I love you more.”

He let out a slight chuckle. “Show off.”

“Always.” You responded, leaning in to kiss him again.

[reilemon]

🍒My Everything🍒

♡︎ synopsis: You didn't plan on celebrating your birthday during undercover mission, but Xavier still wanted to surprise you. A little twist on the 21 Days memory.

♡︎ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎��｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎ cw: birthday sex, fingering, oral (both male and female receiving), creampie, multiple orgasms

♡︎ word count: 3.4k

♡︎ a/n: I call myself Zayne girlie yet here I am posting my fourth Xavier fic. Anyways, Sylus is next.

♡︎ requested by @sadfragilegirl ♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this! divider by @cafekitsune

The undercover mission with Xavier has been going smoothly so far. You two put up a convincing act of a young couple in love in front of others, and actually got along well behind closed doors. You didn't want to tell him this, but you were genuinely surprised at how good of a homemaker he is. When you heard about the assignment, you were excited that it's him who's going to be living with you, but at the same time anxious. Xavier is a reliable work partner, but what would he be like as a roommate? So far, you had no complaints and actually were looking forward to coming home back to the apartment you and Xavier temporarily lived in for around three weeks.

As you mindlessly stroll around a grocery store, you reminisce about one more cause of anxiety about the mission - your crush on your coworker and neighbor. You're not sure when it started, but it doesn't matter because you made it your own mission to bury those feelings and hope they disintegrate. For a while you considered acting on it and taking the first step, but then you realized you had a lot to lose if it doesn't work out. And you tried to convince yourself that it was just a small crush, because who wouldn't want someone hot and reliable? Right?

A weary sigh leaves your lips and you turn a corner - Party Supplies. Oh. Right, it's your birthday today. You didn't say anything to Xavier because you didn't want to make him feel obligated to buy you a gift or make something today. You two are on a mission after all, and you can get to celebrate it later when it's over.

You pass the party supplies aisle and head towards the check out. You wonder what kind of concoction Xavier cooked today.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

Even though you settled on not celebrating your birthday today, you still wanted to treat Xavier, so you bought a cherry pie from a pastry shop that always smells so good and makes your mouth water every time on the way back from 'work'.

As you fiddle with your keys at the doorstep, you catch a whiff of something burning. Probably from the inside. Another sigh leaves your lips. Xavier burnt something again, didn't he?

Light gray smoke greets you as soon as you open the door, your eyes taking a moment to adjust and then you see Xavier frantically fanning a kitchen towel over the counter.

You can clearly see the panic in Xavier's eyes over the slowly dissipating smoke when he notices you coming in. "Ah - ! Welcome home!"

You can't help but laugh a little at the scene, but also be confused a little at his behavior. He's usually calm even when he causes a kitchen fire. "So what are we having for dinner?" You tease.

Xavier's shoulders slump in defeat and puts away the kitchen towel. He turns to you and finally looks at you properly, with a defeated smile "A neighbor made you one of your favorite dishes." He nudges his head towards the dining table. Your gaze follows his and you gasp at how beautifully the table was set, with the meal and your favorite flowers waiting for you.

"Xavier, what - "

"Oh, what's this?"

He approached you to take the bag with the groceries while your attention was on the table.

"Oh, I got us a cherry pie."

He only nods and goes back to the kitchen to unload everything.

You sneak towards the cremated object, "So, if we already had dinner, what was this supposed to be?"

"Uh, nothing. I was just experimenting." Xavier absentmindedly answers as he finishes putting everything away.

After he refuses your offer to help with airing out the apartment, you then excuse yourself to the bathroom to take a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothes.

When you exit the bathroom, the smell of what you assume to be burnt dessert is almost completely gone, and now you can see everything properly. You walk back into the dining area and your eyes land on Xavier waiting for you by the table. You gasp in delight when you see what's in his hands - a cute handmade paper crown in your favorite colors.

"Happy birthday." Xavier says softly and steps towards you, placing the crown on your head. It sits so perfectly that you think he might've taken your measurements.

You look up at him, still in disbelief "How did you - "

"Know when it's your birthday? I told you I looked at your profile." He chuckles at the silly question and turns to pull back your chair, offering you to take a seat.

While eating, you found out that what he burnt was supposed to be a birthday cake he thought you would like, but while it was baking he used that time to set the table and make the crown. He didn't want to make it earlier in case you found it. And then the neighbor came to drop off the meal and of course had to linger and chat and also invite herself over tomorrow.

"So, the groceries I bought today - "

"I didn't need any of that, I just wanted to buy myself more time."

You got used to Xavier's weird grocery shopping lists, that you didn't even question why you were buying ketchup, pesto sauce or sausages. You were so touched by the amount of effort and thoughtfulness he put into your birthday dinner; you were smiling the whole time. That crush is not going away anytime soon.

But you can tell that Xavier was almost like a deflated balloon, hesitantly answering your questions as you put two and two together.

You reach across the table, placing your hand over his. "I love everything you've done today." You reassure him in a comforting voice, "And it kinda worked out that the cake got burned, because then the pie would go to waste."

He nods, and you hope you made him feel a little better. Then, he takes your hand and places a soft peck on top of it, and you could feel your cheeks burning instantly. You hope he doesn't notice it.

He does.

After dinner, Xavier shoos you away from the kitchen, not letting you do any of the house chores on your day. So you go to the living room to unwind and wait for him to join you.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

"Sorry, I had to take a shower." Xavier finally appears and takes a seat next to you on the sofa. He's wearing sweats (those gray sweatpants!!) and a loose tshirt, his hair still a little damp from washing away the smoke.

"It's okay, I entertained myself." You throw the other half of your blanket over his lap.

"Did you pick out a movie?"

You nod and start playing the movie on the tv. Since you can't go out together as much thanks to the mission, you found ways to pass the time inside your 'new home'. One of them is watching old movies Xavier used to watch years ago.

And about five minutes into the movie, you feel fluffy gray hair tickling you cheek and nose as his head softly drops on your shoulder. You turn your head and of course, Xavier is already dozing off. You smile softly at him - it's only fair to let him rest, so you try to slowly get up and let him lie down on the soft pillows.

With eyes still closed, he lets you snuggle him into the pillows and the blanket, but then his lips form a playful smirk and in one swift motion, he pulls you under the blanket with him, into his arms.

"You can watch the movie like this, right?" He asks as sleepiness overtakes him again, with the crown, barely on your head, poking his cheek.

Your body is stiff against his, and your voice doesn't help hiding how flustered you are "Um, you don't want to go to your room to take a nap?"

"Nope." He mumbles before dozing off.

You adjust to make yourself more comfortable, resting your head on his chest. The movie is rolling, but it doesn't have your attention. All you can focus on is how relaxing Xavier's presence is, with his weird slow heartbeat and soft breathing. His one hand is holding you close by the waist, while the other one found its way on top of yours that's resting on his chest.

All the nervousness about being so close to him slowly melts away, and you drift off to sleep.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

When your eyes flutter open, Xavier's hand is in full focus as he tenderly caresses your cheek. The moonlight is the only source of light in the room now, and you wonder how long you slept. You prop yourself up a bit to look up at Xavier, but the crown you forgot you still had on slides off over your face, earning an amused laugh from him.

He takes it off for you and sets it on a nearby coffee table. Then he goes back to caressing your cheek.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks.

"Ye - Ow!" Numbness in your arm that was under you makes you grit your teeth and shift on the sofa in search for relief.

"Here." His arms effortlessly move you on top of him, your upper body completely resting on top of his, his legs encasing yours. "Better?" He asks as he grazes soothing circles on the numb arm.

Well you're not sure if it is better because your heart is beating like crazy now that you're on top of him, your faces a breath away. You did cuddle a little before, but you were never this close. So close you're sure he can feel your heartbeat. So you just nod, not trusting your voice.

You two share a moment in silence, gazing at each other’s features, Xavier's fingers still not leaving your face.

"It's a pity your birthday was during an undercover mission. I'll make it up to you when we get back."

You shake your head "This is one of my favorite birthdays actually." He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to elaborate and hoping you're not just humoring him. "I mean, I had a lovely home and a handsome husband waiting for me. He got me beautiful flowers and made sure I had my favorite meal."

A tone of uncertainty covers your voice "Who should I thank for that?"

When met with a puzzled look you elaborate "Should I thank you as my fake husband playing his role, or as my coworker -"

The fingers on your cheek cover your lips, cutting you off. "Just thank me, Xavier." The digits gingerly graze your bottom lip.

You speak softly “Thank you, Xavier.” Butterflies dance in your belly as you mull over the next question. "And -" You swallow thickly before continuing "What am I to you, Xavier?"

He doesn't say anything, instead he timidly pulls you closer by the back of your head, closing what little distance you had between your faces, his soft lips giving yours a chaste kiss. And when you don't pull away, your hand cupping his cheek, he pulls into a deep, hungry kiss, your bodies pressed hard, feeling every twitch of the muscle and pulse of your veins under your skin - and it's impossible to ignore growing bulge pressing your lower belly.

Xavier curses under his breath "Sorry, I - !" his words get lost in his throat when your hand grazes over his length over the clothes, your lips latching back onto his.

He groans and bites your bottom lip when you give it a few more strokes, feeling out his shape.

Fuck, it's thick.

Growing impatient, you tug at the waistband of the sinful gray sweats, and Xavier lifts his hips and pulls them down just enough to free his rock hard dick. You break away from the kiss to not so subtly look down and even under the low lights you can clearly see it. The sight of it makes you unconsciously rub your thighs and your mouth water.

You might've stared a little too long because a chuckle from the man under you pulls you out from your trance. But he doesn't tease you, maybe because it's your birthday, instead he pulls you back into another breathtaking kiss, while your hand wraps around his length, slowly stroking it.

But you need more - and in the next moment you're sliding down, adjusting yourself between his legs.

A few strokes to the base of his cock and your tongue on the leaking tip elicits a moan from Xavier's lips, and you discover that it's your new favorite sound. So you do what you need to do to hear more of it. Your swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting precum and the tender skin, before you take in more of his length, and greedily you take more and more before your nose is pressed on his pelvis, short hairs of his happy trail tickling you. You don't care how your jaw is barely holding on around his girth, his moans is what keeps you going and panties already drenched. All restrain from Xavier dissipates with every lick of your tongue and clenching of your throat around the tip.

"Fuck, you're doing so good."

His hips start moving faster than your rhythm, his hand on your head holding you in place. Under the hand that's holding you for balance, you can feel his thigh muscles tremble, and you can feel his cock throb in your mouth.

"I'm gonna cum, princess." He gives you the warning, and loosens his grip on your head, but you take it all in, needing to taste him. And in few shallow thrusts, you're tasting and swallowing his cum, not letting a drop go to waste.

You barely catch your breath before Xavier lifts you up and locks his lips with yours, tongue licking your lips and tongue, tasting himself. Then he switches the positions with you, and now you're on your back, stripped of your pants and underwear, Xavier's lips locked with yours and his middle finger sliding between your wet folds. You moan into the kiss as the finger slides into your entrance, quickly followed by a second one. Your hips start moving to meet the pace, the digits hitting all the right spots and your release already building up. Then his thumb presses your clit that was begging for attention, eliciting a yelp from you making Xavier smile against your lips before continuing kissing you. In a few more pumps of his fingers against your sweet spot, you're a panting mess as you cum around them.

When you come down from your high, he brings up those soaked fingers to his lips and licks them, the sight making you blush. His dick twitches in his underwear as he gets a taste of your essence. He needs more.

Before you can even protest about how you're wet enough, he pushes your legs further up against your torso, his face already between them, his breath fanning against your pussy spreading goosebumps all over your skin. The only thing that stopped him from latching onto your pretty pussy is his need to take in the sight of it for the first time.

You cover your face with your hands, too self-conscious about the close up he's getting, even if there's no lights in here. "Xavier..." You whine and move your hips as much as you can under his grasp.

He chuckles at your cute reaction and whispers how perfect you are, then he finally presses his tongue flat against your glistening folds, and your embarrassment melts away. One hand moves from the back of your thigh under your shirt, fondling your breast and playing with your hard nipple until you're squirming from over-sensitivity and he moves to the other one. His lips latch onto your sensitive nub, swirling his tongue around it, sucking and lapping at it, while his other hand finds its way back into your entrance, two fingers easily slipping in and finding the spots that make you moan and buck your hips.

"Just like that - " You breathe, raking your fingers through his hair and holding onto it, while your other hand grabs onto the arm rest behind you, anchoring yourself as Xavier's tongue and fingers stimulate you at just the right pace and you cry out when another orgasm courses through your body.

Xavier soothingly massages your breast and peppers your inner thighs with kisses as you catch your breath.

You hear him ask against your plush thigh "One more?"

Your eyes open and meet his half lidded gaze. You shake your head and grab his wrist "Just fuck me, please."

He was already on edge of another orgasm from just eating you out, and your breathy plea made him so dangerously closer. He positions himself on top of you and pulling down his underwear that now has a big wet spot from his leaking tip. You watch as he positions his cock against your pussy until you hear his soft voice

"Look me in the eyes, honey."

And you lock your gaze with his, eyes barely staying open as the swollen tip slides inside. With languid thrusts, his cock is buried to the hilt and now Xavier needs to anchor himself - he rests on his elbow, burying his face in the crook of your neck, licking and nipping sensitive skin. His other hand finds yours and holds it tight, interlocking fingers and resting it next to your head.

His thrust are deep and hard, his pelvis grazing your clit, making your cunt throb and squeeze around him, making his movements falter. With a strained voice he breathes against your neck "Gonna cum on my cock?"

You nod as you clench around him more when you hear his voice and see his face as he comes up to lock eyes with you and you grab him by the back of his neck, pulling him into a sloppy open mouthed kiss.

You squeeze his hand and lock your legs around his hips as they roll at the right angle.

"I'm so close, honey." He rasps.

And you are seconds away from your third orgasm, your pussy already spasming. "Need you - haah - inside -!"

You open your mouth in a silent cry his dick throbs in your already pulsing creaming cunt, filling it with hot cum. The two of you moan and grunt, erratically moving your hips, riding out each other's high.

With shaky breaths, you slowly calm down and open your eyes.

The two of you can't help but laugh a little when you see each other's blissed out faces. Xavier gives the hand he's still holding a kiss. Your other hand presses on his back to press you completely against him, needing to feel his whole weight on you.

"I'm not crushing you?" he asks as his face is nuzzled against your neck.

You gently stroke his now messy hair. "No let's stay like this for a while."

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

After cleaning up the mess on the sofa and showering, you're back in the dining room with the cherry pie on the table. Xavier put the candles on it and the princess crown back on your head. You're about to sit on Xavier's lap and then light the candles but then you remember something.

"Shoot, I almost forgot!"

Confused, Xavier watches you as you hurry out in the dining room. Your phone and the lighter are here, so he can't guess what you would need.

You come back with a giddy smile on your face as you hold something behind your back.

"Something for me?" he asks, amused at your expression.

"Yes, but it doesn't look that good because I had to make it quickly." You then reveal a handmade prince crown.

Xavier's eyes widen "When did you -?"

"I guess you forgot to clean up the living room after making mine, so I just scrambled something while you were showering."

Left speechless at your sweet gesture, his eyes switch between gazing at you and the crown.

You feel a little embarrassed at your craftsmanship because it looks poorly made compared to the one he made for you. "Okay, you looked at it enough. I'll make you a better one later."

He chuckles as you place it on his head and sit on his lap. He kisses your hand and then your lips "Thank you, I love it."

After lighting the candles, you close your eyes and make a wish.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Gossip Girl masterlist

Requests are currently open!

Key:

Fluff: ♡ Angst: ♤ Smut: ♧ Headcanons: ◇ May contain triggering content: ☆ Omegaverse: αβΩ

~

Serena van der Woodsen

Gingerbread Disaster ♡

Cherry Pits and Picnic Blankets ♡

Hallway Rendezvous ♧

Sharing Is Caring ♧♡

Under the Weather ♤♡

Telling the Gossip Girl characters "I wish you were gay so we could makeout" while drunk ◇

Strawberry Coated Kisses ♧

Safe and Protected ♤♡ αβΩ

Off Limits ♧

Heating Up ♧ αβΩ

Morning Glory ♡

Cuddling Chaos ♡

~

Blair Waldorf

Happy Birthday, B ♧

Sharing Is Caring ♧♡

Under the Weather ♤♡

Drunken Accidents ♡

Orange Peels ♡

Telling the Gossip Girl characters "I wish you were gay so we could makeout" while drunk ◇

Morning Routine ♧

Easy As Pie ♤♡

Late For Dinner ♧

Safe and Protected ♤♡ αβΩ

Off Limits ♧

Bouquets and Butterflies ♡

Special Day ♡

No Pickles ♡

Blair Waldorf dating a chubby gn reader ◇

Forever and Always ♡

Cuddling Chaos ♡

~

Nate Archibald

First Time ♡♧

Sharing Is Caring ♧♡

Telling the Gossip Girl characters "I wish you were gay so we could makeout" while drunk ◇

Safe and Protected ♤♡ αβΩ

Off Limits ♧

Cuddling Chaos ♡

~

Chuck Bass

Sharing Is Caring ♧♡

Telling the Gossip Girl characters "I wish you were gay so we could makeout" while drunk ◇

Safe and Protected ♤♡ αβΩ

Off Limits ♧

Eager Transaction ♧

Cuddling Chaos ♡

~

Dan Humphrey

Telling the Gossip Girl characters "I wish you were gay so we could makeout" while drunk ◇

~

Jenny Humphrey

Under the Weather ♤♡

The Right Person ♡♧

Uno ♡

Left Stranded ♤♡

~

Vanessa Abrams

Coffees and Camcorders ♡

~

Eric van der Woodsen

Uno ♡

Meet the Family ♤♡

~

Georgina Sparks

I Love You ♤♡

~

[mysterymachine67]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x M!Reader

Summary: You two have the bunker to yourself, so you decide to surprise Dean for Valentine’s Day.

NSFW. Minors DNI.

A small Valentine’s Day special 🤭

Dean’s room was filled treats of his liking. Including you. There was a box that was shaped like a heart filled with chocolates, a cherry pie that you made because why the hell not? And a few other things. Hell, you even decorated his room a little.

He was supposed to be back from a store run in a few. That gave you time to fix or freshen things up that needed to be.

When he got back, the bunker was quiet. Way too quiet for his liking. “Baby?” Dean called out, voice echoing. But there was no response. Only the quiet creek of the floor when he began to move his feet. He damn near dropped the bags on the floor and sprinted toward his room when he heard nothing. Maybe you were asleep. His thoughts ran and ran but suddenly came to a stop once he was at his room door. Before turning the doorknob he swallowed, bearing himself for what’s possible to come.

But when he did all he was met with was you, sitting at the edge of his bed while drinking a can of soda, dressed in clothes of your liking. Dean let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and his face softened. “You scared me,” he chuckled nervously. Walking in and setting down the bags on the floor; kicking the door shut with his foot.

As Dean got closer, you stood up. Setting down the soda you had, then making your way toward him. “‘M sorry, sweetheart,” You apologized, then pressed a kiss to his lips. When you pulled away you spoke again, watching as his eyes darted around the room. “I can make it up to you, and besides, it’s Valentine’s Day, baby.”

Dean smiled, looking back at you once he finished looking around the room. He kissed you again, pressing his lips against yours before pulling back. “I’ll be looking forward to that. Plus, love what you did with the place. And the pie? You spoil me.” He said, a big smile on his face; pleased of what you did for him. Once you placed one of your hands on the side of his face, and the other down on his hip, he practically melted.

Dean’s mouth touched yours again. Only this time more passionate and rough. Things escalated, his hands gripped your flesh while yours roamed, then you both moved to the bed.

♡︎

Dean’s moans were loud. Probably way too loud but you weren’t complaining, nor was anyone home so it didn’t matter. Your cock pushed against his sweet spot with every deep thrust. His moans and quiet whines were one of the many things that kept you from stopping. He felt so good around you. All tight ‘n warm just for you. Only you.

Your cock throbbed—needing to feel more of him but you knew he could only take so much. Though with how stubborn he is, he’d argue otherwise. Your hands gripped his thighs tight. Possibly tight enough to leave bruises. It’ll be just another reminder of this night. You’re sure he noticed how loud he was being when he put a hand to his mouth. His other gripping the sheets beneath him. “Uh-uh, non of that, let me hear you, Dean.” You spoke, and just the sound of his name rolling off of your tongue send shivers throughout his body. Before Dean released his hand he groaned and his legs tightened around you. Clenching and pushing you further into him.

Soon enough you both felt the incoming, familiar feeling of needing to cum. In which you helped him out by bringing your hand to his cock. You started pumping your hand, watching as he lifted his hips while letting out a whimper. And when he finally came it was with a shudder. Cum spurted from his tip and landed on him. You helped him through the aftershocks, and though overstimulation made its way to him, you kept going. Chasing your own release.

Small protests left his mouth and his hips jerked back. But soon you filled his hole with your cum. Painting his walls white while a moan fell from your tongue. All that was now heard was heavy breathing and panting. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” You breathed out, a smile playing on your face.

Once things were all cleaned, you both laid in bed. Intertwined with each other while watching shitty romance and horror movies, and eating the snacks you got him.

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience: ~Beware the physical exam!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: Physical exams come around and Kyoya commits an unexpected act of kindness. ➼ what to expect: “Don't play dumb with me y/n it doesn't suit you" ➼ warnings: slight angst, brief hints of body dysmorphia ➼ Part Two | Part Four

As you were sat beneath the cherry blossoms of the gardens for the flower viewing reception you were starting to think that if Kyoya hadn't been born into a powerful family he would've made one hell of a telemarketer.

You shake your head smiling as you listen to him shamelessly sell photobooks to today's guests. “Well, now we know how the club makes extra money.” Hikaru and Kaoru commented as they pulled themselves out of the 'brotherly love' act they had been putting on.

“But I have to wonder-”

“-when did he take pictures of us?”

The true answer to that was he didn't, one perk of your role in the host club is that you have plenty of spare time so Kyoya asked you to take some pictures. Although it was a strange request you are always open to a little side hustle.

The twins soon adverted their attention to Haruhi as they bombarded her with questions about class, leaving Tamaki to lose his mind in Jealousy of not being in a class with her.

“Say, Mommy dear?”

Kyoya’s attention is gained by Tamaki, sulking with his knees drawn up to his chest bear the trunk of a large, looming tree.

“What is it now… Daddy?” you can detect the hint of amusement in Kyoya’s tone, smiling as you move to join him.

“I have a new theory. I mean, it’s just my hypothesis, but it seems that by being in the same class, Hikaru and Kaoru are able to spend more time with Haruhi than I get to here at the club! This gives them the chance to get close to her and if that happens-!”

“Tamaki… you’re only just now realizing this?” You grin teasingly. Tamaki yells in anguish and you chuckle despite yourself.

Suddenly, Kyoya pulls out a board of Pie charts of time spent with Haruhi between the hosts. Where on earth does he get these from?

“According to my research, in a single day, the twins spend roughly 9 hours of class time with Haruhi. Meanwhile, your contact with her is limited to a couple hours of club activities. In other words, your involvement in Haruhi’s life each day amounts to no more than a mere 3%-”

“AHHHH I DON’T WANNA HEAR IT, I DON’T WANNA HEAR IT!” Tamaki screams, hands covering his ears to block out the truth.

“Listen, Haruhi. I want you to stop hanging out with those shady twins from now on!”

“Who’re you calling shady!?”

“Yeah, take a good look at yourself, Boss!”

“Yes… that’s it! Alright, then! We can’t go on hiding the fact that you’re a girl from everyone in the school any longer! All Daddy wants is for you to go back to being the girl you used to be! For you to surround yourself girl friends and start leading wholesome lives~!”

“Who’re you calling Daddy-?”

“So do it, change back now, change back now!” Tamaki shakes Haruhi desperately, who can't do anything but remain stunned. "You guys do realise that physical exams are the day after tomorrow? She's gonna get found out anyway"

They freeze, clearly not having thought over the possibility before. "That's right...I forgot about that" Kyoya speaks up. You new about it too well, you hated physical exams.

"So that means… there’s no doubt.” Haruhi realizes.

“They’re gonna know you’re a girl.” you affirm when she pauses.

♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡

“He must be having a great daydream!”

You, Honey and the twins looked on as Tamaki immersed himself in a daydream.

“He’s kind of creeping me out…” you grimace, watching his mouth hang open in a dizzy daydream.

“Envious? This is all part of my strategy. While you’ve wasted time, blinded by your jealousy, I’ve foreseen the outcome of this charade.” Tamaki smirks

“Jealousy?” you scoff, what he thought you were jealous of you had no idea. Kyoya places his hand on your shoulder “Pay him no mind.”

“Ah~ this anime is obviously a romantic school comedy! Haruhi and I are the main characters, so that means we are love-interests.” Tamaki places his hand under his chin, practically sparkling.

“Yeah, then what are we?” Hikaru and Kaoru’s faces are extremely unamused.

“You boys… are the homosexual supporting cast.”

Kyoya and you exchange glances as if to question whether you were included in this. You simply shrugged at him, unsure of the answer.

"Hey, listen, Boss.”

“I don’t think you get it.”

“If word gets out that Haru-chan is really a girl, then she won’t be able to be in the host club anymore.”

He freezes, looking defeated at the realization. “But if Haruhi started wearing girls’ clothes, I bet she’d be even cuter than she is now.” Honey added.

“She dressed like a regular girl when she was in middle school, right? She must have been pretty popular with all the boys.” Hikaru thought aloud, although it was obvious that it was just to taunt Tamaki.

“Yeah. According my investigative reports, someone would declare their undying love to her at least once a month.” Kyoya flips through his notebook.

“Oh, I see. So the Boss wouldn’t even be able to get close to her.” Kaoru points out. “But we’d be able to because we’re in class with her all day long.” Hikaru finishes quickly.

You lean over to Kyoya and whisper "One of these days we need to talk about all these investigative reports you've been doing" he shrugs "it's none of your business or concern"

"Technically, it's none of your business either" Kyoya smirked, closing his notebook with a clap. "And why should I feel the need to share any of this information with you anyway"

You laugh under your breath "One day Kyoya we are going to be living together, I would find better hiding spots if I were you" you half-heartedly threaten.

The door opens a crack, Haruhi pokes her head in the room.

“Hey, guys. Sorry I’m so late-”

“Don’t you worry, Haruhi. We’re determined to keep your secret, no one will find out that you’re really a girl during tomorrow’s physical exams! So please, promise you’ll stay our beloved secret princess!”

Haruhi blinks. “Sure.”

“You know, I think both of us would be a little peeved if we had to watch all the guys flirt with her.” Hikaru turns to Kaoru, who resonates, “Then that settles it.” Kaoru affirms.

“Listen up, squad members! At tomorrow’s physical exams, position yourselves in formation A, and then, wait for your orders.” Tamaki points at, yet another, whiteboard that’s mysteriously appeared out of thin air. The twins salute him, and Honey marvels at his leadership.

Anxiety strikes straight to your heart, fidgeting as you wave your hands "Count me out of this one I'm afraid, I won't be here tomorrow"

Kyoya shot you a pointed look that screams unconvinced but he seems to not question it directly "You don't have anything scheduled?" he flips through his notes as the colour drains from your face as you realise what he's looking at. "You have my schedule?" He shrugs "its a standard part of my investigative reports"

You don't know why you though you would have been exempt from his findings. He kept tabs on everyone at school why would it be any different for you?

"I...have....a last minute doctors appointment! Yes! Haven't been feeling well lately, should probably get it checked out" You scratch the back of your neck in hopes he'll buy it.

"Wouldn't that be more reason to go to your physical exam?" you know he doesn't mean anything by it but you could strangle kyoya and his curious self.

Your lips press into a thin line "Yes I suppose it would be" you gritted your teeth"

♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡

“We will begin conducting physical examinations shortly, all students please proceed to the clinic in your respective school building.”

The hosts file out of their classrooms and down the hall with the rest of the students in the direction of the clinic. Haruhi clearly confused at the stark difference between the Ouran Academy physical exam and a public school's physical exam.

Or at least you could tell from down the corridor, waiting for the coast to be clear before sneaking to the library. Once all the students pile into the clinic you finally step out from behind the pillar you were hidden behind.

"Going somewhere?" You practically walk straight into Kyoya's chest "I- K-Kyoya?" His head falls to the side "Don't play dumb with me y/n it doesn't suit you"

You sigh, looking to your feet "Why are you so desperate to get out of the physical exam?" his gaze was intense and almost menacing. "that's none of your business"

"It is my business” you could not understand why he was being so difficult about this. “Are you sick?”

The question caught you off guard “What? No” Kyoya seems to grow increasingly tired of your dodging "Then what is it then? Because while you're in Japan you're meant to be my responsibility, so if you're avoiding doctors I'm concerned"

You know that he means well, but you couldn't help but feel a little peeved off at his prying and the way that he spoke about you. you know that technically speaking he was correct, the agreement between both of your father's was that you would come to japan at the start of highschool to familiarise yourself with the customs and the ootori family on the condition that Kyoya and his father ensured your wellbeing and protection. But it still didn't feel good to hear.

"There's nothing wrong with me, physically speaking at least. I just, I get uncomfortable around doctors, and revealing more skin than normal in a public setting. I just don't want to do it"

Kyoya wanted to sigh in relief that you weren't actually sick or injured, however, the concern didn't leave his body. "You're uncomfortable around doctors?" You chuckle out a bitter laugh "Ironic isn't it, I'm arranged to marry into a family that owns hospitals yet I can't be around doctors"

You shook your head "I dont even know why I'm telling you this, it's fine Kyoya, I'll just figure it out" he sighs, going to say something but you're already down the hallway before you get the chance, a man in a labcoat bumping into you on the way out of the clinic, bumbling out an apology.

As you wandered back into the clinic you had to admit that what you did not expect was to see Tamaki in all his shirtlessness attempting to impersonate Haruhi.

"Wait that's Tamaki"

"There's no denying it thats definitely Tamaki"

"Is he cosplaying as Haruhi?"

"What's going on is he trying to be funny?"

The twins burst out laughing, making it clear that they had set Tamaki up "You jerks you said there was no way the girls would be able to tell it was me!" he attempted to strangle them "It's pay back for trying to tell us we were homosexual supporting cast"

Tamaki crawled back to where the real Haruhi was hiding to face her wrath, screaming from him soon following as he ran out.

You approach the changing room in his wake in hopes of checking on Haruhi "Are you okay? Had I known they were going to do that I would have tried to stop them"

"Tamaki lives in his own care-free little world" you nod "It was a stupid idea I know, but he means well, even then it doesn't forgive some of his more less thought through ideas"

You nearly jerk back when you feel a tap on your shoulder, it's Kyoya. "Are you two ready? I went ahead and set up a separate room, a special clinic, and I have a doctor standing by, sworn to secrecy, y/n you might as well go with her"

"It turns out the doctors here today are all on staff at one of Kyoya-senpai's family's hospitals" The twins shrugged "It would have been nice if he had said something to us earlier."

"I had to get my revenge too. I'm sorry, I just don't think I'm supporting cast, homosexual or otherwise"

You paused for a moment, not expecting such an act from Kyoya. Sure the clinic was set up to protect Haruhi's secret, but ensuring you don't have to go to such a public clinic and that you had a friend with you so that you're not alone with a doctor? it was surprisingly well thought through.

Of course if you ever brought him up on it he would deny it, because that was how he was. Either way you weren't going to forget it quickly, you just couldn't figure out why, this goes beyond his obligations.

"Is there something wrong"

"Check it out. Tamaki is eroding away"

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It was as you were in the changing room of the special clinic that the guy in the lab coat from earlier snuck in "Excuse me?" Haruhi spoke up. He grabbed the shoulders of the nearest person which unfortunately for you was yourself "No it's not what you think! Please, just be quiet"

Tamaki coming out of seemingly nowhere manages to get him with a flying kick.

"One. Good looks that attract the public eye.” the twins appear in his wake, giving a deadly stare you don’t think that you’ve ever witnessed this attitude from them.

“Two. More wealth than you can imagine.” You can feel Kyoya’s dark aura radiating off of him, looking up at him behind you as he speaks, wrapping his blazer around you.

“Three. Chivalry that will never be able to overlook-

”-the hideous wickedness of this world.“ Both Mori and Honey are also deadly serious. Your breath catches in your throat.

"That’s what makes up the Ouran Host Club.” Tamaki announces, standing front and center.

“We’re here. Watch out.” He, the twins, and Honey chorus.

"Please don't hurt me! Spare my life!"

I’m a doctor, I have a small emergency medical clinic that I run in the next town over. My name is Yabu.” the man begins solemnly, suddenly feeling the urge to proclaim his life story.

“Did he say his name was Yabu?” Hikaru seems more calm now, having neutralized the threat.

“That’s crazy, what a terrible name for a doctor.”

“Unless you’re a quack!”

“I’m here because I was hoping to see my daughter. My wife left me last month and took my daughter with her but I know that she attends school here.” Yabu’s head is hanging in shame.

“I don’t mean to pry or anything but why did your wife and daughter leave you?”

Yabu explains with great detail and questionable impressions about the moment his wife and daughter left him and his clinic because of his poor behavior.

“And that was it. They left me forever. I know I’m terrible at managing our money and I can’t say no to anybody. I don’t blame them for being tired of constantly living in debt. But I wanted to see my daughter one more time, so I came here. After being pelted by rain and wandering the streets I finally made it to your school. Once I entered, I was mistaken for a doctor here students.”

“Well of course, you’re wearing a lab coat.” Hikaru points out. “Anyone would mistake you.” Kaoru adds.

“And then it happened…”

“When I tried to ask her about my daughter, the girl started screaming, and before I knew it, there were all kinds of people chasing me!” Yabu sobs loudly.

Tamaki kneels down in front of him, a river a tears streaming down his face, “That’s so tragic!” he sobs.

Kyoya sighs tiredly, “Dr. Yabu, I think you may have the wrong place. Are you looking for Ouran Public High School?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Yabu sniffles as he acknowledges Kyoya briefly.

“I figured that might be the case. This is Ouran Academy, a private institution."

“Your daughter doesn’t go here.” you shake your head gently to finish his assessment.

Yabu’s face drains and he goes pale.

“Man, that’s pretty sad, you don’t even know what school your daughter goes to?” Hikaru scoffs. “I’d bet your relationship is messed up because you don’t pay attention to her, not because of some stupid debt.” Kaoru snickers.

“Wow, Kyo-Chan, I’m impressed that you figure out he had the wrong school!” Honey marvels.

“Well, there’s no way the daughter of such a small time doctor, would ever be able to get into Ouran Academy.” Kyoya shrugs like he hasn’t just said something incredibly offensive. “Pleasant as ever.” you grumble.

Tamaki stands, suddenly solemn, “Kyoya, would you please find a map of all the public schools in this area? I’d like to help this man find his daughter.”

His tone is sincere and caring, and you smile fondly, as does Kyoya.

“Whatever you say.” Kyoya easily obeys to Tamaki’s whim, as anyone would.

♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡

"I'm sure that after that interaction you're not anymore sold on doctors" Kyoya tried to make light of it all after everything had calmed down and sent the doctor on his way. You shook your head "No I can't say it has been much help"

The two of you watch out the window as Yabu wandered away from Ouran academy. "Kyoya?" he hummed for you to go on. "Thank you"

He shrugged "I already had a clinic set up for Haruhi all I had to do was talk with the doctor" he dismissed. You shake your head "It wasn't just that. You know it isn't, but don't worry, I won't tell anyone" You comment half jokingly, walking away to check on the host club.

Kyoya watched you as you walk away. You knew him better than he thought, when did that happen?

Things are starting to change.

Next time on patience 'Attack of the Lady Manager'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor

[withleeknow]

seasons of you.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff or at least i hope so lmao, not v edited and literally no one is surprised lol i sound like a broken record atp just adding that into every post word count: 0.7k note: inspired by a highly fucked up thing that @matchannie said to me yesterday lmao it has not left my brain since you said it you absolute monster

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

minho falls in love with you four times a year.

minho falls in love with you in the spring, over blooming cherry blossoms and vibrant daffodils that greet you on your weekly sunset walk. over the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his own without soft fluffy gloves getting in the way, now that it's finally warm enough to retire that extra layer of protection for the season. over the sun coming out of hibernation and filling your days with golden light, falling upon your face and casting you in a magical hue. over the remnants of winter that still leave behind a palpable chill in the air early in the morning or late in the night, that has you reaching out for the comfort of his warmth. over your delighted smile when he brings home a bouquet of tulips after a long day at work. over your glassy eyes, reddened nose and flushed cheeks as he takes care of you when the seasonal allergies kick in.

minho falls in love with you in the summer, over picnics in the park where you both lay on blue gingham picnic blankets, your head on his chest, as you watch the clouds overhead drift peacefully. over watermelon gelatos passed between teasing lips, the confectionary melting too quickly for your liking under the blazing sunlight. over spontaneous drives to the beach even though neither of you can swim, but you go just for fun, just to build sand sculptures in the shape of your cat babies and stand on the edge of the water to splash at each other. over long naps on the couch on days where you're too lazy to venture into the outside heat, preferring to stay cuddled up together under the air conditioner with niki playing in the background.

minho falls in love with you in fall, over shared slices of pumpkin pie as you watch the leaves turn yellow and red right outside your window. over the adorable way you hide your face behind your hands on nights where he puts on a horror movie because he insists on honoring the halloween spirit. over your off-key rendition of taylor swift's all too well (the 10-minute version) for most of the season because you adamantly claim that it's autumn's official anthem. over weekends spent attached at the hip, baking sugar cookies for hours on end. over your crestfallen pout as you take note of how the days keep getting shorter and shorter, already missing warm sunny weeks with all your heart.

minho falls in love with you in winter, over matching scarves and beanies, even though he often has to carry them for you because you have a bad habit of forgetting them before you go out. over the first snow of the season because they say that if you witness the first snowfall with the person you love, then you will stay together for a long, long time. over sweet cuddles in bed as a bad christmas movie plays on tv, and you fall asleep on his shoulder about half an hour into the movie despite being the one to select the movie in the first place. over your return from a shopping spree with your girlfriends with nothing for yourself but everything for soondoongdori, from christmas themed clothes to treats and toys.

but then again, maybe it's not entirely accurate to say that minho falls in love you merely four times a year. if he wants to be precise, then he would say that he falls for you anew every morning he wakes up and sees you asleep in his arms like a delicate miracle granted by a star he once used to wish upon. if he wants to get technical, then he falls in love with you with every smile that you send his way, which is a terribly sappy thing for him to admit but it doesn't make the statement any less true.

minho loves you every day of every week, of every month, of every year. he's loved you before he even met you, when you were just a romanticized idea in his head and hadn't yet walked into his life like the angel he was always meant to find. he loves you every minute of every hour; there isn't a second where you're not on his mind, not a single beat of his heart that doesn't spell out your name. he loves you throughout the seasons and a million times in between.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki @astronomicallyyy @alm334 @lashaemorow

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.04.2024]

[cameronsbabydoll]

GET TO KNOW CHERRY!PIE!READER ʚɞ ꪆৎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖

cherry!pie!reader is a trailer park princess with a cherry cola smile and heartbreak written all over her. she grew up on elvis records and the sound of her mama crying in the kitchen. her house always smelled like cigarette smoke and cheap strawberry shampoo, and she used to sit on the porch swing in her jelly sandals, pretending she was someone’s wife already — someone loved and kissed and taken care of.

she’s southern sugar with a mean streak, baby. calls everyone honey or darlin’ and bats her lashes like it’s a weapon. she’s always got sticky lipgloss on, usually cherry-flavored, and her cheeks are flushed like she’s either embarrassed or just finished cryin’. or both. she wears red — red nails, red lips, red ribbons in her hair. everything she owns is just a little worn down or secondhand, but she makes it look expensive with the way she carries herself.

she grew up in a broken home but still believes in fairytales. she’s got big dreams and a bad habit of loving people who don’t know how to stay. cries during old country songs and writes love letters she never sends. she still keeps her daddy’s lighter even though he’s long gone, and she wears her mama’s old perfume like armor. she’s soft, but she’s learned how to bite back.

she walks like she’s always headed to trouble. she talks sweet, but there’s something sad in her eyes — like she’s been through too much for someone who still sleeps with a teddy bear and hums lullabies under her breath. she loves hard. she breaks harder. and she’ll always choose love, even if it ruins her.

she’s the girl with the cherry earrings, the bite mark on her neck, the lipstick-stained love letter folded up in her bible.

she’s a mess in the most endearing way possible. she’s the girl who won’t let you leave without giving you a piece of candy or a hug, but she’ll leave her heart wide open for people who’ll hurt it. she’s that kind of girl. doesn’t know when to stop loving, even when it’s clear the other person isn’t. she wears her emotions like they’re her best accessory — she’s quick to cry, but she’s also quick to forgive.

growing up cherry!pie!reader’s home was anything but stable. her father, an abusive figure, was more of a shadow than a parent — someone who was supposed to protect but instead caused her to shrink into herself. he’d been gone before she was old enough to understand, but his absence left a mark on her that never really healed. when he left, her mother turned to drugs to numb the pain, dragging a parade of unsavory men through their trailer home. the kind of men who used her mom, who saw cherry as little more than a pawn in their game. in those early years, the lines between love, lust, and pain were blurred beyond recognition.

cherry!pie!reader learned early that love wasn't something that came from family; it came from attention — the kind of attention she could get from older men who seemed to show her a level of care that she never saw at home. but that attention? it was often manipulative. these men were always too good to be true, but she didn’t know better. she was too young, too starved for affection to see through their charm until it was too late. many times, she gave her heart away too quickly, trusting the wrong people, only to be used and tossed aside like a dirty secret.

the cycle of giving and losing love wore her down, but she kept searching for that one person who would look at her the way she’d always wanted — someone who would see through her brokenness and offer her real affection, not the temporary kind.

cherry!pie!reader’s need for love is real but tangled up in all of her past hurts. on the outside, she might seem sweet and carefree, the girl who dances barefoot in the rain and sings along to old elvis songs. but deep down, she’s scared of repeating the same mistakes. she’s terrified of being abandoned again, terrified of falling for someone who’ll leave her when she least expects it.

yet, despite all of this, she’s still someone who yearns for real, pure love. she craves the kind of innocent affection that most people take for granted — the kind of love she’s seen in old movies, the kind that’s simple, soft, and unconditional. her heart wants to be loved right, even if it doesn’t know how to ask for it.

cherry!pie!reader finds herself constantly seeking older men, not because she’s a “gold digger” or desperate, but because in her mind, the older men are the ones who offer stability, even if it’s an illusion. they’re the ones who don’t seem to want something from her — at least not in the way the men from her past did. but the truth is, she’s often attracted to the wrong type of older men — the ones who mirror the ones who took advantage of her in the past, or the ones who look at her like she’s just another pretty face to play with.

but even as she repeats these cycles, there’s always a part of her that knows this isn’t what she truly needs. the older men may give her attention, maybe even buy her things, but that’s not what her heart craves. she wants someone to care for her as a person, not as an object to be possessed. but it's hard for her to separate the truth from the comfort — it feels like she’s always searching for something real while also staying stuck in the pattern of being used.

beneath all the layers of pain and heartbreak, cherry wants what most people in her situation would shy away from: a love that is pure and simple. a love like the kind she saw in those old movies with marilyn monroe, audrey hepburn, and frank sinatra — a love that's built on respect and mutual care. she dreams of the quiet, gentle moments where her heart is fully seen and cherished, not just used. she wants someone who will hold her hand and look at her like she’s the only person in the world, someone who will listen to her heartaches without judgment, and take care of her without expecting anything in return.

the thought of a hopeless love, one that doesn't come with strings attached, makes her ache. but she doesn't think she deserves it. not after everything that's happened. in the deepest parts of her heart, she wishes for a knight in shining armor to come and show her what real love is — even though she’s afraid of what might happen if she lets someone in.

cherry!pie!reader’s past is a delicate thing. while she puts on a front of being carefree, fun-loving, and spontaneous, it’s a front that covers up the scars of her past. she’s constantly torn between wanting love and being terrified of it. her relationships, especially with older men, are marked by this conflict. she wants to be loved properly, but part of her is drawn to the dangerous patterns of her past — it feels safe to her, even though she knows it's not. she’ll give her heart away easily, but if you’re not careful, it can feel like a constant battle of pushing people away while secretly hoping they’ll stay.

the thing is, she’s a lover at heart. she does have that innocent longing for something pure. someone who understands her, sees through all her walls, and isn’t scared of her mess. cherry’s broken, but she’s beautifully broken. she just doesn’t know how to fix herself.

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 9.

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content. It's a kinky writing challenge, so expect anything at this point, (nothing freaky, don't worry) but it's a surprise calendar so I won't spoil it! (Also, English is not my native language) Contains brief reference to Dec.1 (Sunshine)

Advent calendar includes: headcanons, snippets, one shots, imagines, blurbs etc.

Words: 2,690 (I tried to keep it short but ended up with a longer version since I wanted to do this idea of sweet loving Dean switching back and forth to soft dom!Dean justice)

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: In my headcanon Dean’s a switch and a super soft dom, always making sure you feel comfortable. And mainly playing the dom part because he had noticed how you'd always bite your bottom lip whenever he’s using his deep and authoritative voice with others or how you'd swallow thickly when he kicks into action on hunts, and it dawns on him that it actually turns you on. Dunno whether this is a popular headcanon but guess that's just my take on him, I hope you'll enjoy it!

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

9th Dec. - Whip Stroke

“Are those the same cuffs we’re using on our hunts? Nasty.” you jab with a little playful smile on your lips while you watch Dean smirk and chuckle, rifling through his duffle bag to pull out the familiar pair of handcuffs.

“Yep, that’s the exact pair. But don’t worry, no ghost slime or vamp blood on ‘em.” He assures with a grin, as he makes his way back to the bed.

He kneels down just behind your naked back, the handcuffs grasped in his fingers while he gently tugs at your hands. “You remember the safe word, baby?” He asks, as he leans towards you, a calm and gentle tone in his words when he begins to bring your wrists together behind your back. You feel your excitement kick in, his strong hands coaxing your slender ones to follow his lead with such tenderness - in a way like no one rarely ever gets to witness him despite you.

Your head turns sideways to glance back at him, searching for his eyes to give him a reassuring smile of yours. “Yep, Cherry Pie.” you chuckle lightly. And to prove your point, you drop slightly forward, your naked chest automatically sinking further into the mattress while he pulls your arms behind your back together. He carefully places the cuffs around your wrists, locking them with a quiet click, before giving them a gentle and tentative tug, always checking to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable

“Too tight?” He asks, his tone calm and gentle. “No, it’s a green from my side.” You hum, referring to the traffic light system you’d always use when you'd do something more intense.

Dean lets out a silent sigh of relief, but quickly covers it up with a cocky grin, “Now, remember that time your drunk ass told me you’d want me to tame you like a little brat…? You up for it?” For a moment you swallow thickly, your breath caught in your throat. Wait- shit- He actually remembers that? “I got us something… in case you’re still u-”

“Yes,” you cut him short, the word slipping your lips thanks to your excitement sky rocking now. “Is it another gift wrapped in toilet paper?” You quickly add, trying to distract from your flustered expression. Dean’s smirk widens at your eager response and he moves off the bed to get something from the nightstand’s drawer, “Nah, this one didn’t need packing.” Moments later, he kneels back on the bed behind you, his hands moving to gently caress your skin again. You angle your shoulders, peering back up at him with the side of your face flush against the mattress, your breath increasing as you spot the new toy in his hand. Held up high, letting you see it in its full glory, was a medium-sized, black leather riding crop.

Goddamn. A shiver runs through your body, your heart suddenly racing and the heat pooling between your legs. He begins to slowly run the leather tail of the crop across your bare skin, allowing you to get used to the new sensation. Your breath hitches when it ever so lightly brushes over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake and sending another cold shiver down your spine.

“Damn…” you breath out hoarsely, slightly muffled by the mattress. And you suddenly feel your cheeks flush a bit pink at the thought of your following words, “You- … you gonna whip me in shape?”

He chuckles in response, the vibrations of his laughter rippling against your skin. “Oh definitely – can’t tame my girl otherwise, now can I.” He says, before he begins to lightly nudge your legs with the end of the crop. “Lift your hips.” He instructs, his voice calm and gentle yet authoritative.

You wiggle yourself off the mattress in order to lift your hips, your chest still firmly pushed into the blanket as it was a bit difficult to hold your balance with your wrists cuffed behind your back.

Dean notices you swaying slightly and his free hand quickly goes to stabilize you by holding your hip upright. “Good girl.” He murmurs in response, a tone of praise in his voice. He then begins to slowly run the end of the crop down your spine, the leather slowly and gently sliding along the bumps under your skin. A soft whimper escapes your lips at the sensation while the leather tail continues to tease and caress your skin, causing chills to run down your spine and straight to your core.

Without a word, he suddenly smacks the leather down against your ass, the impact stinging but in a way that makes you shiver from pleasure and excitement. You involuntarily wince at the sudden whip, muffling the pathetic noise with the mattress as you bury your face in the blanket.

“Shit- sorry babe,” he apologizes quickly while his hand goes to caress the spot where the leather had hit. He leans to the side to check on your expression, his eyes widened slightly, “You okay?” “Mm-hm”, you confirm, the unmistakable lust carrying your husky voice when the next words slip you, “P-please- please don’t stop- I-” Did you just say that? You bite your lips, your eyes quickly averting his with a hint of embarrassment.

Dean senses your inner conflict and his protectiveness quickly kicks in – you feeling embarrassed in front of him? Nuh-uh, nope, not with me. He thinks for a moment, his free hand gently stroking your ass. Then, a faint grin spreads across his face when it clicks in his head and he realizes what you want but don’t dare to voice.

“Whimper for me…” He suddenly instructs, his voice going low and deep, just the way he knew secretly turned you on. He had noticed it plenty of times before when you were on hunts, never commenting on it, but your subtle reactions never went unnoticed by him.

You freeze, unsure whether you heard him correctly, but your teeth were already pulling at your lip again at that tone of his. Dean notices your hesitation, so he decides to step up his game. He slides the crop up from the back of your thighs, to your ass and then to your lower back.

“I want you to make pretty and needy sounds for me, sunshine.” He murmurs, his voice a low and gentle tone. “I want you to beg while I tame you.” He lightly smacks the leather against the back of your thigh which makes you wince softly against the blanket. “Whimper, and I’ll reward you, little brat.” He promises, his voice gentle yet commanding, trying his best to play the role you secretly long for.

A shiver runs through your body at his words and lord - that firm tone of his does things to you, you would never admit loudly. Slowly, you feel your inhibitions evaporate. And instead lust and desire takes its place.

Leaned onto one shoulder, with your cuffed wrists still behind your back, you slightly tilt your body and lock eyes with him. His expression is a mixture of a knowing glint in his green eyes and a firm look that tells you he won’t stop until you’ll finally let go of that last shred of misplaced shame. A small, tentative smile appears on your face before you put on a desperate and whining expression with a soft small whimper.

He chuckles as he witnesses you following his instructions and slowly giving in to your secret desires, his smirk growing on his lips.

“Good girl…” he praises, then brings the leather back down against your skin, a bit rougher this time, causing a thwack to echo through the room.

“Ah-Mmnnnh!” A louder whine escapes you, not caring any more to stifle them.

He leans forwards so that his mouth is right by your ear, his breathing heavier than usual. “That was better… much better sweetheart.” He places a kiss on your jawline, before the end of the crop’s suddenly sliding against your side. “Do you wanna know what that little display earned you…?” he asks, his hot breath tickling your skin and making your own breath hitch briefly.

He then pushes his hips forwards, his chest flush against your back. “Can you feel that?” He asks, his voice a low tone. “Can you feel just how hard you make me, sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah, God you’re really hard…” You say, your breath shaking slightly when you feel his cock twitching against the fabric of his pants, grinding against you.

He chuckles at your response, “Yeah… that's all because of you, sunshine…” He bites his bottom lip, secretly begging you to never feel embarrassed again for something that brings you pleasure. After a moment, he pulls back again, his heart rate rising as well now. “Turn over for me, sweetheart.” He instructs, his tone still demanding, determined to get you more hot.

You do as told and roll over, your wrists buried beneath your back as you settle down again. Then he slowly runs the end of the leather down your breasts, making your breath increase and a soft moan leave your lips. Dean has to bite back a groan at your reaction, before he scoots closer to you, sitting on his knees between your legs. One hand on your thigh and the other holding onto the leather crop. “You’re in for a treat, my good girl.”

He runs the end of the riding crop up the inside of your leg. “Just relax… I wanna see how well you can listen…”

You nod and lower your head back down into the mattress, while your legs shiver under the touch of the riding crop, both in anticipation and desperation. He slowly runs the leather up your leg, and onto your stomach, making you squirm. He chuckles when he sees you raise your head to glance towards it, trying to guess the next smack. “Ah, ah, ah. Eyes on me…” You let out a frustrated whine while you reluctantly tare your gaze from the leather crop and back to him. Dean grins, amused by your reaction, but quickly continues in his dominant persona, trying not to break character for you. “That’s it… just focus on me, little brat…”

He then flicks the riding crop in the air before gently moving it down towards your inner thigh. He licks his lips when you let your head fall back into the mattress obediently and his eyes lock onto your dripping wet folds. You feel the end of the leather move up your thigh, before he places it over the top of your covered clit. Your legs tremble and your hips subtly buck, desperate for more friction, the teasing killing you at this point. Dean ignores your eagerness and slowly drags the end of the leather over your clit, his breath now short and quick with his own need. “Are you being a good girl…? Or you still need some tamin’ by good ol’ Winchester?”

“Mm-hm” you whimper shakily, your mind a haze by now but Dean knows the answer was clearly for the latter.

He chuckles when he hears your needy sound, finally allowing yourself to let go. “That’s what I thought…”

Your thighs twitch involuntarily when you feel his fingertip brushing against your slick folds, teasing your entrance. You whimper and your cuffed hands behind your back twist in a desperate effort to clutch the sheets. “God - So wet already for me…” he murmurs under his breath, his voice a deep groan.

“Guess I’ma have to scold you a lil’ more, hmm…” He hums, the riding crop being dragged up the other side of your inner thigh now. A shiver runs up your legs, the leather feeling like sparks against your skin. He then brings the crop down on your inner thigh, not hard enough to leave a mark, but also hard enough to make it sting.

“Ah-hnnn,” Your entire body twitches and you wince from the stinging sensation. You quickly bite your lips, your eyes rolling back and your head pressed into the mattress.

Dean’s persona falters briefly at your intense reaction. “Jesus…” He whispers. “You good, sunshine..?” He asks, his voice gentle and reassuring. “Color?”

“Green,” you pant softly, your eyes briefly connecting before you drop your head back down.

He smiles warmly when he hears you reply, relieved at your answer. You’re enjoying this.

“Good. Stay still…” He orders, his voice low and firm again. The crop comes down again with a thwat – harder than the last time. You hiss but once again bite back the louder reaction, your leg twitching at the stinging pain mixed with pleasure and need.

He smiles that signature cheshire smile at the sight of you, dripping wet, whimpering, wrists behind your back and the fact that he's the reason for this secret kink of yours. He suddenly notices how his pants grow tighter by the second and a dark stain spreads on the fabric around his crotch. “Just keep being a good girl for me… and you’ll get a really big reward.”

Dean quickly undoes his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers in one, hasty movement. You let out a low moan, your eyes locked on his thick erected cock now freed and twitching from need. He leans over you, his expression suddenly soft and vulnerable. “I love you…” He mumbles against your ear, his words barely a whisper, but suddenly feeling the need to let you know, especially now that he’s acting all rough and dominant for you.

You tilt your head slightly to nuzzle against the side of his face, your voice a soft murmur against his ear, “I love you, too.” You drop your voice lower before you add a little sheepish, “And thank you.” His heart swells when you nuzzle against him, his arms wrapped around you, pulling your body up and against his where your chin comes to a rest on his shoulder. “Thank you for trustin’ me with your secret fantasies…”

He then gently rolls you over onto your stomach again and lays down over you, his front pressing against your back. “Now… I’ve still got some tamin’ to do, don’t I?” he chuckles with a teasing smirk, at which a snort-chuckle slips your own lips and you mutter, “I’ll be a real brat if you don’t.”

“That so? Mmmh… my little vixen, huh.” He hums quietly, massaging and slightly squeezing you. He then lets the leather crop come down on your butt, another loud thwat echoing through the bedroom.

“Ahh-hnng” you whimper softly and you feel your pussy twitch from need.

He smiles at your whimper, before letting the crop come down again, a bit harder this time.

A louder whimper escapes you this time, your hips twitching involuntarily from the increased burning sensation, “I- I’ll be obedient” you suddenly wine, pleading now.

He chuckles again, his voice still gruff as he’s playing along. “Of course you’ll be… and I’ll reward you for that.” He pats your reddening skin with his other hand, “You’re such a good girl for me…” his hand slides across your butt and down your inner thighs, feeling again how much you were dripping already. He groans at the sight of you so ready and his fingers scoop up some of it to coat his hardened cock with your juice.

You pant heavily by now, your butt wiggling slightly in an attempt to get closer to him, until he gives you a harder pat on the ass. “Now don’t move that cute ass of yours, ‘kay?” He leans over you to place a kiss on your favourite spot on your neck, rewarding himself with a soft, pleased hum of yours. “I- I’ll be good…”

His free hand goes back to caressing your red ass-cheek again while you can feel the tip of the leather crop press against your inner thigh, gently nudging your legs further apart. He then chuckles cheekily, knowing how much you enjoy him playing this role. So, he purposely lowers his voice even more to imitate his gruff, intimidating hunter-mode-tone while he swiftly slaps your inner thigh.

“Buckle up sunshine, you’re gonna get tamed now.”

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[mahg-stuff]

Hi. Can I request a big daddy elvis (late 70s) in which he and female reader are having an argument and he says something really mean so she heads into the bedroom and cries. He goes into the bedroom to apologize and then make out. Smut, detailed if you can and also some aftercare. Thanks

Tysm for the request! Enjoy it lovee! ♡

Kiss'n make it better

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Word count: 6.4k (quick) Summary: Bde grows stuffy as he witnesses you playing a card game with the guys, but not only that, you are in your delicate bed attire while you do it. Pairing: (1976)bd!elvis x afab!reader Warnings: 18+!, smut, p in v, elvis finally fully takes the reader, cherry cream pie (if you know what I mean...), kissing whilst bodily fluids are present on the mouth, tasting of bodily fluids, playing around with spit?oral fixation?, mention of elvis’ medications/pill use & dr. nick (im sorry), elvis’ standards for his women, toxicity, once again elvis being volatile, use of the word daddy, & of course fluff + baby talk!!

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AN: Hello there! I was off and on while writing this since I was eager to let it out soon bc I felt I’d left the anon hanging for too long so, certain areas may seem rushed/lack context but I did my best with the details! I hope it’s not a bother, but overall I enjoyed writing this little piece. Anywho, my dear anon I hope you are pleased with this! And to the rest of you loves, enjoy! ♡ (keep the requests coming!!😚)

- pls excuse any errors, your girl got tired half way through cleaning it up 🥹💋

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Elvis was, as of now, getting his day-by-day measurements of meds from Dr. Nick within the master bathroom in his room. In the meantime, you held up in his bed, twiddling your thumbs as you waited, you both had just woken up. He would always make sure to do it in a different room, given that you had eventually told him that you didn't enjoy seeing everything they put in him. When you witnessed firsthand how much his body had to ingest, you expressed your concern, but he waved you off, saying everything was always under control.

At some point, you stopped showing concern upfront to him because it had resulted in the first argument between the two of you, however, you'd unconsciously always be pinching away at your arm's flesh as you worried about him. You were still relatively new to his lifestyle, but you were gradually adapting.

Things were taking quite a while, so you began wandering around his room. You'd only been together for a few months now, so you were still trying to settle in. Elvis asked you to move in right away, and you soon found out he didn't like being left alone. As you moved around the room, you were still in your night slip. It was a look that he found especially appealing. You tip-toed barefoot to the door, peeking outside, and then back over to the closed bathroom door in the bedroom. 

You heard them mumbling inside and decided, Why not go downstairs? 

Making your entrance to the living room and taking in more glances of the house you hadn't paid much attention to before, your eyes shot up towards the voices in the kitchen. As you peered into the kitchen, you saw two of his guys sitting there chatting with some cards in their hands. They took notice of your presence and glanced over at you, their eyes lingering on your attire. Going quite unnoticed by you. 

One clears his throat.

"Hey there, y/n, ya need anythin'?" 

You shrug, not really knowing what you need or want, but feeling a bit restless. 

"No, just bored waiting on El," you reply absentmindedly. 

One of the guys chuckles and nudges the other, whispering something to him. You catch a snippet of their conversation and wonder if they're talking about you.

"What's so funny?" you ask, tilting your head in confusion. 

The guys exchange glances before one of them speaks up, struggling to find the right words. 

"Oh, nothin', just...you know...we were just talkin' 'bout how...um...how fashionable you look today." 

You give them a skeptical look, not fully convinced by their compliment. 

"Really? They're just my pajamas, the first thing I found in the closet last night," you admit with a sheepish shrug as you look down at your delicate garments. 

They both burst into laughter, causing you to giggle along. The guys exchange knowing glances, struggling to contain their amusement at your naivety. Being new in Elvis' life and feeling a bit clueless around the guys sometimes—I mean, you'd never been surrounded by so many men before, so it was uncommon for you to catch their brash ways.

 

One of the guys begins talking, "Since you're bored, why don't ya join us? We're playin’ a card game." 

You happily agree and take a seat at the table. They explain the rules to you as one of them shuffles the deck of cards. The game soon progresses, and the guys bring out their competitive sides, teasing each other and making playful taunts. Even though they might’ve been acting a little abruptly, it was clear that they were enjoying themselves. Amidst the banter, one of the guys turns to you with a mischievous grin. 

"Hey, watch out, I wouldn't want ya to get too confused with all these cards. It might be a bit too much for a girl to handle," he says snarkily. 

You titter and shake your head, clearly letting the comment go over and past your head. 

"I can handle." 

You say it humbly.

***

Elvis, grumbling his way downstairs to look where you'd wandered off, stops at the bottom of the stairway as he hears his precious girl's laughter from the kitchen. He stalks quietly towards the doorframe of the kitchen, there he sees you sitting pretty with his men. He scans your body until he gets to your bare, wriggling sooties that are dangled just above the ground in the chair. Elvis clenches his fists, feeling his irritation rise at the sight of you playing with the guys.

As he watches, he can't help but notice the unkempt yet alluring exterior you possess. Your tousled hair and streaked makeup from the night before only seem to enhance your beauty, giving you a tempting appeal that could captivate those around you. He had set certain expectations for you, and seeing you in this compromising situation with the guys confirms that you were not fulfilling them. He storms in, his footsteps echoing through the room as he confronts the scene before him. 

"Darlin', you know bedder than to be gallivantin' 'round in your night attire with these fellas." He narrows his eyes, his southern accent thickening as he speaks.

Your head quickly turned to that familiar gruff voice, his appearance matching the roughness in his tone. There he stood, portly and only in a silk robe, a region of dark hair trailing down his navel from the open slit and his luscious sideburns framing his face. His noir hair, slightly disheveled from a restless night, completed the picture of a man who demanded attentiveness. As you caught his gaze, you could see a mix of disappointment and fret in his eyes. You instinctively straightened up, feeling a twinge of shame creeping into your conscience for some reason as you looked down at your attire and then back at him. 

"Well, I thought it'd be okay. I mean, I do live here now. Shouldn't I be comfortable, El?" You voiced cunningly, not purposefully trying to provoke him but unable to resist the urge to justify yourself. 

But there was an inimitable standard he held you to, one that required impeccability and grace. 

"Goddammit!" He started. 

"No man's woman should be 'round men in such whorey showin' garments. 'Specially not mah women!" 

You blinked in surprise, taken aback by his strong reaction. The atmosphere in the room suddenly grew tense, and you could feel the weight of his disapproval pressing down on you. 

His pride was unexpected for you. 

As you searched for words to respond, his intense gaze never wavered, making you feel insecure and exposed. 

"W-Well, the guys think otherwise!" You spoke aloud as your throat tightened. Well, at least you thought they didn't find your attire whorey—a word Elvis had introduced to you when he saw an outfit you picked out while shopping with him. 

Elvis glared over at them, and they both quickly stood up from their positions, some cards falling off the table as they did so. 

"That right?" 

"N-No Ep, 'course not." They stood there longer than they should have. 

"The hell y'all still doin' standin' here, for?! Go on an' do sumn then." Elvis spoke sternly as he pointed, his robe falling more open with his motion. 

The guys hastily scampered away, not wanting to further incur Elvis' anger. You look at Elvis, noticing his neglected appearance and glazed eyes. Nervous, you place your cards down, your eyebrows puckering in disarray. 

"What was that, Elvis?" you ask softly, but your voice is filled with slight perplexity. 

"They didn't do anything." You squeaked. 

"Didn't do anyhtin'." He scoffed under his breath. He shook his head and met your gaze again. 

"Matter uh fact, the hell were you thinkin' wonderin' off?" His words were a bit slurred. 

"Know all yur attention should be on me, 'n only me." Elvis' words hung in the air, heavy with a mix of fury and vulnerability. 

You could sense an ache behind his harsh tone, and it struck a chord within you. 

"Elvis." You delicately said his name, the concern evident in your voice.

But before you could continue, he raised his voice again, his drooping eyes glaring. 

"Kept mah eyes off ya for just uh moment, den I find you playin' bimbo wit' 'em fellas." 

Your heart sank as Elvis' words echoed in the room. 

This wasn't your Elvis. 

Your bottom lip quivered as you stood up from your seat, covering your face with one hand as you moved to leave the room. 

"The hell are ya goin'." He says this as he tries to stop you, but you pull away forcefully and hastily walk upstairs. 

Elvis hears your faint sniffle from the hallway, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut. He paced around, mumbling words to himself as he held his forehead, trying to make sense of what just happened. 

It was clear that his head wasn't in the right place. 

***

As Elvis continued to pace, he barely grasps the impact of his words and considers the hurt he may have caused. 

"Baby," he muffles to himself as he looks around. 

He rubs his eyes and begins to walk towards the staircase. 

"Baby." He muffled again, as if he were whispering a plea into the empty space. 

He reaches the top step and hesitates, unsure of whether to knock on the closed bedroom door or barge right in. 

"B-Baby, a-a-ah wannas come in," he says gently in his gruff voice. 

"W-Wanna come in." Elvis stands in front of the door, his voice quivering with desperation. 

His babyish tone reveals the depth of his regret. Your ears perk up on the other side of the door, straining to catch every word. You can sense the turmoil in his voice, the vulnerability, and the longing.

It's a side of him you were weak for, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

Slowly, you rise from the bed, your footsteps barely audible as you make your way to the door. With a shaken hand, you turn the knob and open the door, revealing Elvis standing there, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear. He takes in your appearance—your tear stained cheeks, red, fuzzy nose, and the slight puffiness of your eyes. His face softens with concern, and without a word, he pulls you into a tight embrace. Your face buried into his exposed, hairy, warm torso through the opening of his robe. 

Feverishly, he brings his large palms up to either side of your face and pulls your face upwards. Taking in your babyfaced features. Your damp lashes flutter as you meet his gaze. 

"A-Ah made my little 'un cry." he mumbles as he grazes the pad of his thumb under your eye. 

"Y-Ya know ah ain't meant what I said back dere," he continues, his voice filled with veracity. 

"M-My temper… mah words came out wrong. A-Ah, wudnit wha I meant—", he trails off just before he wavers off, trying to focus his eyesight all of a sudden. 

As his eyelids droop, a gentle sigh escapes his lips. You can see the drowsiness etched across his weathered face, the lines deepening in the dim light of the room. 

It always tortured you when you saw him like this. 

You noticed it was one of the many effects the pills had on him, before starting him up, they'd slow him down first. 

Even with his abrupt weariness, you recognize that sincerity in his voice and the sorryness in his slumped eyes. You reached out and took his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it, offering a silent reassurance that you understood what he was trying to get out. 

You cared deeply for him, so forgiving him always came in a hurry for you.

***

As you both stood there, the grogginess began to fade, and his eyes soon became more and more focused. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. He gave your cheek a gentle squeeze. His gaze lingered on your face as he continued to graze his thumb gently on your cheek. 

"Let me m-make it up t-ta mah sweet girl, hmm." He says it so softly with that drawl of his.

As you listen to his soft voice, filled with tenderness and warmth, it becomes evident that he was speaking to you with the same affection one would reserve for a baby. One of his traits you had gotten used to and valued thoroughly. Your cheeks fill with warmth. He holds you by the waist, turning you over, and fully enters the bedroom with you. Shutting the door, he then leads you to the bed, helping you sit down on the edge. Elvis sits down beside you, and you feel the bed sink from his weight. 

He turns your face over to him, and he places a hand on your cheek. He begins caressing your face ever so lightly, as if you were made of spun glass. 

"Kiss'n make it better." He mumbles pouty-lippedly as his thumb runs over your lips. 

You stare into his hollow eyes, nodding, as he begins to push his thumb into your small mouth. Politely opening your mouth for him, the taste of his skin lingers on your tongue as his thumb explores the contours of your mouth. You both hold each other's gaze, and you lightly suckle on it, watching his eyes light up at your action. He gently brings his thumb out, a string of saliva dribbling down your lip. Elvis smudges your saliva all around your soft pout, making your lips appear glossy, then brings his thumb up to his lips to suck off your slobber. As you both continue your intimate encounter, the air around you seems to grow heavier. His fingers then work their way down your torso, tracing your dainty body. With a famished mutter, he slides his hand beneath your slip, teasingly grazing over your soft, small chest, giving one of your nipples a tug. You can't help but whimper at his action.

And want grows between you, feeling a surge of heat run from your face down to your toes. 

"C'mere, let ol’ daddy kiss ya," he leans in, capturing your lips in a fervent, persistent kiss. 

The taste of him fills your palate as he slips his tongue inside your pretty mouth. You find yourself feeling fuzzy in the rush of the moment, willingly giving into his actions. His large hands begin gripping your small waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. His supple kisses had always been tender and gentle, but this one was different. It left you almost breathless. His touch was heavy, and you found yourself slipping in the heat of the moment. Your slip rises upwards at his action, revealing the pair of tiny matching ruffled shorts. 

He breaks the kiss for a moment, his pillowy lips glistening. His eyes lock onto yours—a look of want. Elvis' hefty hand goes down to your upper thigh, and he grazes the fabric of your shorts. 

"Take 'em off, 'ittle." He rasps quietly, the bass of his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

Your breath hitches with a half-laugh. "Kay." You gently get off the bed and look over at him as he keenly stares at you with his still-glazed-over eyes. 

A look you may never get used to. 

You began pulling down at the hem of your waistband until the fabric hit the ground, being completely bare underneath. 

While the length of your slip fell just enough to cover your most delicate parts, he whispered, "Lemme see her." 

His voice is playful as he motions for you to come closer.

You take a step toward him. He reaches out and gently tugs at your hip, his thumb rubbing your hipbone, sending a muzzy feeling to your belly. With his other hand, he reaches over to the hem of the fabric, pulling it up—he throbs between his legs.

From his view, he could see all of you. Your narrow hips and thighs and the smallest patch of curls that covered your pussy. The little crease in the middle—so sweet, you were puffy, and sticky just from his kisses. You looked over at his garb—his robe now fully undone from all his movement, also nothing underneath. You took in as the section of his body hair went from his pudgy chest to his soft belly, which hung just barely over his waistline, and then turned into thick curls at his mound. His corpulent and hard, leaky cock presently standing tall just for you against his paunch. You gazed at the ridge of his pretty, purplish, rosy tip weep as it peeked from his foreskin.

Suddenly, you jolted as you felt his thumb at your swollen clit, a splotchy pink filling your cheeks. His touch was gentle yet firm, his fingers perfectly caressing your sensitive nub. You couldn't help but whimper, the lovely sound escaping your pursed lips as your hips instinctively bucked against his digit. 

"Ain't nothin' more purdy than seein' you all pink 'n warmed up. Could spend all day thumbin' away at that ‘dorable clit uh yours." He babbled as he applied more pressure and quickened the pace of his movements. 

Making you even more rosy. 

You could feel the heat building between your legs, the ache for release becoming almost unbearable. Every swipe of his thumb seemed to bring you closer to the edge, pushing you towards the brink of ecstasy. Your back began to arch as you leaned into his touch, but just as you were almost there, he pulled his thumb away. You let out a frustrated whimper, desperately wanting him to continue, then you went to cup yourself until he swiftly stopped you. 

"Dun cha get greedy on me now," he whispered, his voice coated with directness and a hint of humor. 

You couldn't help but pout, your need for satisfaction overwhelmed your senses. You ached. He had never stopped on the brink of your release like this before. His hand left your trembling body, resulting in you feeling empty and yearning for more. You watched as he brought his thumb to his lips, tasting the remnants of your sweet desire, a sly smile playing on his lips. The rosiness in your cheeks seems to grow darker with his action.

"Ah can't have ya fallin' apart jus yet," he murmured, his voice low. 

You looked at him doe-eyed as you clamped your legs, standing there. 

"Little 'un." Elvis whispered as he reached out for a hand. 

"Idenit time for ya to blossom," he continued as he pulled you closer, his warm breath hitting your cheek. "'ittle flower of yours needs ta bloom." Elvis gave you a nod as he spoke and guided you. 

"Bloom," you repeated as you held his strong gaze, and he began helping you lay on the bed. 

"Mhm, correct baby." He cooed as he helped you lie down. 

When you finally understood what he had said, your heart seemed to race. Staring up at the mirror above you on the ceiling, you took in as you laid delicately on his silk bedding. You began recalling the past nights and days of glancing up at yourself while Elvis rutted against your tummy when he cuddled you until he came, or when he'd only do little more than barely let the tip of his cock pierce your tiny hole—but never more than that. 

Now, he indicated that he wanted to take things further. You were both a little afraid and excited by it. Even so, you were genuinely more willing than ever. It made you rub your legs together thinking about it. You would constantly pester him for more, but he would tell you that it wasn't the right moment and that he knew when it would be. Thinking of his words from earlier, you thought maybe this would be his way of making it better after he'd lashed out. Maybe, he wanted to make it up to you by fully fulfilling your needs. You beamed at the thought.

Lost in your little mind, you were interrupted as you felt the bed sink next to you.

There he lay, still in his loose, silky garb, fully open, his hairy manliness laying solid against his belly while his balls were perfectly nestled below his shaft. You looked over at him as he began lying on his side to face you. His jawline was soft and his cheeks full, adding to the suppleness of his overall appearance. His overgrown sideburns adding to his rugged allure. The word ‘mesmerizing’ repeating in your head.

"Rest on yur side f'me, baby." You began turning over for him, but before you could, he stopped you—he saw the mild unease in your eyes. 

His hand cradled the side of your cheek as your eyes stared into his. However, he couldn't help but smile, thinking your muddled face looked adorable. 

"Hers dudden needs to be afraid." He whispered softly and patted your head now. 

With each light pat on your head, his warmth enveloped you, making you feel comforted in his presence. You smiled back at him softly, it sort of surprised you when he caught it. 

"H-Her knows." You whispered back in the same way he spoke to you. 

It was really rubbing off on you, for sure.

He leaned in, placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, and then motioned for you to rest on your side. Such a baby, you thought as you gave his chubby face one last glance. As you shifted onto your side, he scooted in closer, so he was spooning you, his round stomach pressing into you. You felt the hardness of his length up against your lower back, feeling the warmth radiating off as it throbbed against the thin fabric of your slip. You couldn't deny the growing ache between your legs, yearning for his touch and for him to take control. 

Elvis began lifting the hem of your garment, exposing your bare, pretty, round backside to him. His hand rested on the curve of your hip, his touch both firm and gentle. A shiver ran down your spine as his palm traced delicate patterns on your skin, sending those funny feelings through your body. You felt him move your leg a bit, so your pussy lips were peeking out between your thighs from his view. You felt him pulsing along your rear now, slick already forming at your petals. You couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself to him completely. You heard him snicker behind you, bringing a blush to your cheeks. Elvis grabbed his thick shaft in one hand and brought it between your thighs, your slick and his precum mixing into one as he rubbed the ridge of his cock along your lips. 

Eagerly, you try to slide down, so his tip pushes up towards your entrance. 

"Careful, too big for yuh to take so fast," he warns as you bare down on his leaky tip. 

You move back unconsciously, and the head of cock grazes at your swollen clit causing you to shudder. 

Trying again, you huff, "Won't fit." 

Elvis is quite amused by this, and he tittered as he leaned into your neck for a quick peck. 

You feel his warm breath against your skin as he whispers, "Baby, needa take time t'stretch ya out properly." 

He trails his fingers along your inner thighs, teasingly rubbing circles on your sensitive heat. Your body reacts, flushing with chills and impatience. You can feel yourself clenching at nothing. Elvis raises the leg you weren’t resting on with his other arm, and you blush at how vulnerable you seem in the pose. He moves the hand he was massaging you with toward your mouth. You understood what he meant, of course. Carefully, you used your hand to hold the back of his large one as you carefully spit into it. You watch as Elvis gruffly giggles at your compliance as you gaze up at the mirror, his eyes peeking over you as he watches his hand lower back down.

Bringing his hand back down to your throbbing core, now slick with both your juices and saliva. His fingers glide along your folds, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. As his thumb brushes against your clit, a shudder runs through your body, aching for more. You arch your back, silently begging for his touch to become more demanding, more intense. His finger begins to pry at your snug cunt, slipping inside with ease from all your wetness. You feel him begin to inch a second finger inside of you, stretching you further and filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, his fingers deeper than you were used to. He would only nag at your hole in the past. You whimper as he starts to move his fingers in and out—a slow and deliberate rhythm. Your hips instinctively press down on his hand, seeking more friction and more of his lengthy fingers. You can't help but squeal, the sound escaping your lips as he curls his fingers inside you, hitting a sweet spot that makes your whole body shiver. You try closing your legs, but he still holds one up. He feels your leg shift and hears your cute squeal. Elvis lets go, letting your leg rest down, with a snicker as he looks over at you with a mischievous grin. Soothing his palm up and down against your thigh, he leaned to kiss your upper arm. 

"Ya kay, 'ittle?" he whispered in his southern drawl. 

You nod, unable to form words, as the sensations overwhelm you. 

Slowly, he removes his fingers from inside you, leaving you aching for more. But before you have a chance to say anything, Elvis is already positioning himself between your legs from behind. He catches a glimpse of your sweet little gaping hole that was dripping with want. He begins rubbing the ridge of his cock along your pussy, you feel his chest vibrate behind you from a low groan. His tip begins to ease in as he coos in your ear slowly. Without delay, he plunges inside you halfway, his lip curling at your tightness. You wail as he bucks his hips further, and you try to get away due to the harsh feeling of the big stretch. He carefully moves the arm he was resting on to go under your waist to hold you from your firm stomach as he hitches up the rest of your babydoll. Pulling you towards him, his gut pressing into you more. 

Taking a glance at your clenched fists and shut eyes, he grumbles, "S'okay baby, breathe." 

You gulp down and gasp, "'S't-too much." 

"Needa bit more little 'un." He croons and brings his empty hand to swipe at your clit from the front in order to break you in with more ease. 

With a final buck of his hips, he fills your sweet cunt completely, taking him all in. You cry out at the forceful pinch, your hand gripping at his hand that held you from your tummy. Elvis grunts loudly when you clench at his cock. 

"M-Mah god, baby, let loose f'me. You'll break me off wit' all tha squeezin'." He blurts out, his voice strained with pleasure and urgency.

Your body trembles against his, and he continues to swipe at your tender nub, wanting to bring any type of pleasure to you right now. Elvis glanced up at your face, a tear dribbling down from the corner of yours. He leaned in, kissing it away. Gently opening your glossy eyes, you look up towards the mirror, taking in the way you were both at last bound. His robe was still hanging loosely on his body, and his hair was tousled as he pressed his face into your nape. As you gripped him with your hand, you felt him grab hold of it and start pulling it down to your heat. Placing it between your thighs, where you and him connected, you traced his weighty balls over with your small hand. Indicating he was practically balls deep inside your dear little hole. 

"Yuh feel him inside ya." He whispered airily into your nape, the bass of his voice rumbling against your back. 

You blushed at his words, feeling a mixture of shyness and alertness. You nodded, unable to find the words to respond, as you focused on the sensation of him filling you completely. His hand remained on yours, guiding your movements as you continued to explore the intimate connection between your bodies. Your digits now covered by both yours and his fluids. Elvis let his hand loose and moved it over to your waist, both of his arms now holding you in a spoon position. As the initial sting began to fade and pleasure took its place, you began moving, slowly your movements against him became more confident. Each motion became braver as desire continued to build between you both. Your whimpers got louder, and you felt the hairs on your nape stand as you heard a little huff come from Elvis behind you. His grip on your waist tightens slightly, his breath warm against your skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. Pulling himself out slightly and then bucking into you again, causing you to let out a high-pitched moan as you experienced the overwhelming sensation for the first time. A dance of pain and pleasure intertwined within you. You were sure a trickle of blood had stained the satin sheets beneath you both as you felt the warm wetness building between you two. You were too busy taking in the feeling of his hardness inside you, he noticed as he peeked up at the mirror and saw you lying there with your small mouth gaping and your hand buried between your thighs where he had left it. 

"Touch yuh'self sweetheart." He grunted into your ear as he strained himself from moving his hips too harshly, his grip on your waist still firmly in his arms.

You complied, your fingers danced over your sensitive folds, slick with arousal, and maybe more, until they found your swollen clit. As you began to rub circles around it, your moans grew louder and more dire, echoing through the room. The mirror gave you a clear view of your own flushed face, your eyes filled with desire and vulnerability. The way he watched you, his dark eyes smoldering with lust, only fueled the fire burning within you. Every movement caused the robe to sway gently, revealing hints of his luscious curves beneath. As your fingers continued their rhythmic dance upon your clit, you couldn't help but imagine his hands—those strong and skilled hands—taking over. The thought of his touch, his fingers tracing the same patterns you were now creating, made your toes wriggle. Your breath hitched as you quivered as the warm, fuzzy feeling in your lower abdomen became more and more unbearable. His thrusts became more vigorous, matching the intensity building within you. The room was filled with the symphony of your moans mingling with his low grunts. As he maintained his relentless pace, you surrendered yourself completely to what your body was feeling. The tension in your body coiled tighter and tighter until, finally, with one strong thrust, you unraveled into a state of euphoria on his cock. Your body trembled with sheer bliss as he continued to move inside you, he watched as your pretty face contorted and your blush deepened. 

"O-Oh god." You whined loudly, tightening around him, and the throbbing of his girthy cock became even more pronounced. 

His grip on your hips tightened as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, looking for his own release. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you moan prettily but uncontrollably. He glared over at you, bringing one hand up to grasp your jaw, his thumb once again finding its way into your mouth.

"N-Not so loud baby. Ain't want no 'un else hearin' ya gone like this, only me." He spoke between each heavy breath, sounding imposing. 

You nodded, unable to say any words. 

His thumb pressed against your tongue, silencing your moans as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. The room was filled with the sound of skin pushing against skin, blending with your muffled cries of pleasure. You felt your ears grow hotter as his grunts turned into gruff whines, it made you wonder how such a man could make such pretty sounds. He pressed into you harder, the suppleness of his hair-filled belly now squished into your lower back. Elvis' grip on you toughens under you, his fingers digging into the skin of your tummy as he pulls you closer, seeking an even deeper connection. His other hand now filled with your drool. Watching as his lip was now curled, you couldn't tear your gaze away from his beautiful expression slipping into that o-face of his through the mirror. With one final thrust, he let out a garish whine, emptying himself inside of your now-tamed pussy, filling you completely with his essence. You couldn't help but muffle a sob and bite down on his thumb as you felt his scorching seed paint your walls. 

He was still so far buried inside you as he let out heavy sighs. Elvis slowly began to withdraw his upper body from you, looking down at the slight space between his belly and your back, shifting his hips slowly to pull out, the base of his cock streaked with your pure blood. He paused as he felt your tongue pushing at his thumb and looked over, your eyes were watery. 

He withdrew his large hand, you turned your head over to him, the position putting a little discomfort on your neck as he was still spooning you. You were in awe of his blushed face and matted, lush hair sticking to his forehead from all his sweat. Bringing the hand you still held between your thighs over to hold the side of his face, your eyes widened as you focused on the redness of your blood on your digits, which had now smudged a bit on his cheek. Elvis took in your expression and glanced over at your small hand against his cheek, he snickered. Grabbing ahold of it, he brought it over to his mouth, giving it a soft kiss and even a subtle lick. Your purity now smudged along his soft lips. 

"A fine 'ittle flower 'as bloomed," he mumbled as he leaned his face into you. 

Your heart raced as his lips pushed against yours gently. The taste of his kiss, a mixture of your blood and his own essence, sent warmth down your spine. He steadily pulled away, enjoying the fact that your lips were stained right along with his. 

It left you brain-scattered and your hind eyes in a fuzzy state.

You were brought back when you felt him pulling his practically flaccid cock out of you. You winced as a dull ache shot through your body. Quickly sensing soreness, but a satisfied, weak smile tugged at the corners of your lips, knowing he'd finally gone completely with you. You stiffened as the warmth of his spew slowly oozed out of your snug, bruised hole. 

Elvis' view was a delight, he thought, watching as the scarlet milky mess glazed your puffed-up pussy lips, running down your inner thigh. Slumbering on your back now, your babydoll still pushed up but remained covering your small chest. 

But before you could turn to fully face him, you panicked as he stood up from the bed abruptly. 

"E-Elvis," you sputtered out, even reaching your hand out for him. 

He ignored your plea as he hurriedly walked towards the bathroom. His footsteps echoed in the silence, and you suddenly felt anxious. Moments later, he emerged with a damp towel in his hand. As he approached you, he saw the look on your face as you laid on your back. 

"Hey, what's wit' da worried eyes baby," he asked gently while gently leaning over at you. 

You still felt the pang of fret in your chest as Elvis leaned over you, his concern evident in his eyes. 

"I-I just got scared. Thought you w-were leaving," you admitted, your voice shaky. 

Elvis' expression softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair off your face. 

"Aww, don' worry, sweetheart. Am here now, ain't goin' anywhere," he reassured you, his voice smooth and reassuring in his drawl. 

His touch was comforting, and you felt yourself relax under his calm presence. 

As his hand lingered on your cheek, he spoke again. "Ah's needs ta clean my little girl now, kay." 

You nodded as Elvis stood in front of you while you lay splayed on the bed. He softly lifted your legs and began to gently wipe away the sticky residue, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His sunken eyes met yours briefly, a glimmer of tenderness, before he focused back on cleaning you up. You flinched as he swiped at your tender bud, and he couldn't help but grin. Finishing up, he tossed the used rag aside. Elvis had always been thorough in his caretaking when it came to you. As he gently began tugging your delicate top down to cover you, he paused and scrunched it up, revealing your small, supple chest and your soft pink meek nipples. 

Leaning down to give both of your petite mounds delicate kisses, "Almost forgot 'bout 'em sweet lil' things," he muffled as he kissed your warm skin. 

You found yourself giggling as you ran a hand through his tousled-up hair. One of the things he had made you become—a giggler. 

He stood back up and fixed your babydoll fully now as he smiled at you.

"All done, my little 'un," he whispered softly, his voice filled with pride and adoration. 

Collapsing beside you, his hand tenderly stroked your hair, whispering, "We'll get tha rest uh us cleaned up later." 

He then continued as you moved over to fully face him, his robe now imperfectly tied. "Needa hold ya darlin’, ah know how emotional you puny things can be after experiencin' this kinda thing." 

You snuggled closer to him with a giggle, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort in his embrace. The tubbiness of him being all the more cozy. As you both basked in each other, you felt the palm of his hand smooth down at your lower abdomen. 

"Yuh sore?" His voice held that babyish tone. 

"Bits," you mumbled as your cheek rested against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. 

His hand continued to caress your belly, his touch gentle. “Love her lots,” he suddenly blurted and leaned in to give your forehead a kiss. 

You gazed up at him, leaning in to kiss the fullness between his neck and chin. “Loves daddy lots too,” you whispered as you followed up with another kiss before you snuggled into him again. 

• Master List

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₊ ⊹ Get added to Taglist for future stories here.

[moonstruckme]

Well hello lovely Mae!! Happiest of birthdays omg and a new theme? Killing it, absolutely incredible ✨ I'm having to anon because when I made my side acct, I connected with my main 😅 so this is longlivedelusion!

7k?? Actually insane. Biggest congrats to you on that, not that I'm surprised since your writing is amaaazing. So to celebrate, I'll try requesting?? Hopefully I do this right loll

Craving a bit of an apple pie with Rem or Sirius (or both!) and #21 (the sake one, I think that's the right number)🥰 feel like Sirius especially would love to travel a bit outside the UK, so interested to see how you'd approach~

Omg hi my love!! Thank you so much. I have to admit I was a bit intimidated by this request because I've never had sake but I tried haha <3

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 418 words

It’s suspicious enough that Sirius decides to make tea, but your confusion only worsens when he comes back into the sitting room carrying three small cups you’ve never seen before. 

“Did we get new cups?” you wonder aloud. 

Remus nearly stands up in his hurry to take two from him, tsking. “Don’t burn yourself, love.” 

“We did get new cups,” Sirius says, sitting back in his spot beside you and blowing into his cup with a smug look. “And something new to drink.” 

You take yours cautiously. It’s steaming, but the liquid inside doesn’t look like tea. You smell it cautiously. “This feels like a scheme.” 

Remus hums his agreement. Sirius shrugs coyly. 

You decide to humor him. “What new something did you get us to drink?”

He grins at you. “So glad you’ve asked, my loveliest girl. Tonight, we’re drinking sake.” 

“Definitely a scheme,” says Remus. 

You take a small sip of your drink. It’s sweeter than you expected. Fruity, with a bit of sharpness. 

Sirius kicks his feet up on the coffee table. “I just think we could all use a bit of cultural enrichment. Sake is Japanese. You know what else is in Japan? A rich cultural history and stunning natural landscapes.” 

“Are you quoting a magazine or something?” you ask. 

“I’ve been doing some light research.” 

Remus laughs. “If you want to go to Japan, you only have say so.” 

“Fine.” Sirius sighs, but the sound is laden with fondness. “I’d have liked to get through my presentation, but yeah. I think we should go to Japan.” 

“I’d like that,” you say. He looks at you, delighted, and you can’t help but smile. “I’ve always wanted to see the cherry blossoms.” 

“We’d have to save up for a little while,” Remus cautions you both. “I’m sure we want to have enough money to do everything we’ll want to, but yeah. I’d love to go, too.” 

“Really?” Sirius’ voice pitches. He leans over to kiss Remus, then you. “Thank you, my loves.” 

“You don’t need to give us a presentation to ask for things.” Remus rolls his eyes lovingly, taking a drink from his cup. “Or buy new cups.” 

“I wanted them anyway,” Sirius replies. “Actually, the sake was only the first part of the plan. I didn’t think you would agree so easily.” 

You raise your eyebrows at him. “What was the rest?” 

“Well, actually, our booking at the karaoke place isn’t refundable…” 

Remus groans. 

[ssweetleaf]

cherry pie.

pairing— dilf!steve harrington x fem babysitter!reader

w/c— 4.5k

♡ summary— turns out your little crush on mr harrington isn’t so one-sided after all, and after many unsuccessful dates, he starts to realise that no one is as good to him as you are.

♡ includes— SMUT 18+, age gap (unspecified, but reader is early 20s, steve is early 40s), heavy on the daddy kink i’m sorry, hung!steve, oral (m receiving), praise, nipple play?, breeding kink, smut goes 0-100 real quick sorry, unprotected p in v (wear protection in real life please), steve’s hairy chest makes an appearance bc i’m feral for it, terrible TERRIBLE ending bc it’s me and you should expect it by now!!!

a/n— pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!!

˖ ࣪⭑

You felt pathetic.

Sat on the couch, aimlessly staring at some black and white re-runs on the television while you waited for him. Mr Harrington— clad in his formal attire, he had mentioned before he left while fumbling to put on his watch that he had a date, one that he was already extremely late for— and shit, you couldn’t help the way your chest ached with jealousy, a lump forming in the back of your throat while you tried your best to keep up your sweetest smile.

“Help yourself to anything, honey- what’s mine is yours, you know that.” he spoke, and you held out his coat for him, helping him slip it up his arms and over those broad fucking shoulders, mulling over his choice of words and that stupid pet name.

Whats mine is yours. What’s mine is yours. What’s mine is yours.

“Thanks hon, I’ll be back a little late tonight- kids need to be in bed by 9 at the latest and remember to call me if you need anything.” You nodded, muttering a small okay, before he pressed a little kiss to your forehead, “alright, see you later.”

So hours later, with both kid’s tucked up into bed all tuckered out, you thought about him— the way he looked, so handsome in his shirt and tie, expensive cologne pressed into his wrists and behind his ears, filling your senses completely when he leaned to press his usual friendly kiss, one that never failed to have your knees buckling underneath you.

But that was all it was. Friendly. You were just the babysitter, too young for him, too inexperienced for him, and your face soured when you thought about what his date might look like. Pretty dress and manicured nails wrapping around the glass that held her too-expensive wine, fluttering her lashes and running her leg against his underneath the table— she was probably a lot closer to his age too.

You sighed, pout prominent on your lips, trying to snap yourself out of whatever you had going on, falling for an older man all while you babysat his kids.

Yeah, so pathetic.

12:3am— the clock ticked away upon the mantle piece, going by so slowly you had started to feel your eyes become heavy, though you were soon snapped out of your little stupor at the sound of the front door closing, footsteps clicking along the hall and keys being thrown on the counter.

You rushed to get up, inwardly scolding yourself for seeming so eager, before making your way out to greet him.

“Hey, honey-” his usual smile wasn’t there, instead a frown etched at the corners of his lips, brows furrowed, the lines on his forehead deepening. “Everything go okay?”

You nodded, but quickly followed up with an answer at the quirk of his brow— he liked when you used your words.

“It went great- I think I really tired them out,” you smiled, pulling at the collar of his coat to take it off him, watching him fix himself some whiskey, the crystal tumbler clacking against the rings on his fingers all while he settled himself on the leather armchair.

You frowned at his lack of conversation— he was usually so chatty, cooing over you for being so sweet to take care of his kids for him, but there he was, silent and mulling over god knows what.

“Mr Harrington?” You inched closer, toeing at the carpet and fiddling with your fingers, not entirely sure how to approach him. “Is everything alright?”

His eyelids fluttered shut, huffing a breath through his nose and you took the time to take a good look at him. His shoulders tense, legs spread wide and the fist that held the whiskey was paling from his constant squeezes.

“I’m fine, doll, really-” he sighed, unoccupied hand scratching along the stubble that littered his pretty jaw. “S’just- m’so tired of these dates.”

Your lips jutted down in a frown, much similar to his, anything that masked the smile that wanted to form— you know it was terrible, but knowing his date went bad, it made a little bit of hope flutter around in the pit of your stomach.

So you sank to your knees, reaching for the laces to his polished shoes, pulling at the string to the bow to loosen it completely.

“Did you wanna talk about it?” You asked, pulling at the heel and putting it to the side to work on the other.

You saw him stutter, eyes glazing over a little bit at the way you knelt in front of him, all doe-eyed and doting on him, pretty lashes fluttering up at him whether you knew it or not.

“I-” he started, swallowing hard when your hands rested against his thighs, both shoes untied and discarded somewhere next to you. “They’re just- none of them are right for me.”

Your fingers kneaded at his tense thighs, trailing back and forth against the fabric of his pressed slacks.

“Shit—” he cupped your face in his big palm, stroking at the pudge of your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “No one is as good to me as you are, honey.”

You beamed up at his cooing, letting a giggle slip from your throat, giddy and inebriated from his little touches.

“I can make you feel good, too, Mr Harrington-” you were bashful when you said it, skin flushed and gaze flitting to the arm of his chair, fingertips still smoothing over the expanse of his thighs. “Let me make you feel good- please.”

Steve groaned, chest rumbling and he pushed his head back— you watched his adam’s apple bob while he swallowed, his neck on display and you pushed your thighs together when you thought about how pretty it would look covered in your lipstick stains.

“Honey— we can’t-” he stumbled over his words, gazing down at you with such a fondness in his eyes and there was something else, too, swirling around in his vision, all dark and honeyed, glistening in the low light of the lamps. “I’m too old for you— it isn’t right.”

“But, daddy—” you whined, his cock throbbed once you said it, rutting up from beneath his slacks and your fingers itched to press against the bulge there. “you said it yourself, no one is as good to you as I am.”

He felt like a teenager again, close to blowing his load already from the way you said that name. Your name for him and him only.

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.

It swirled around in his thoughts over and over, round and round, and he had to press a palm against his cock to ease the throbbing just a little, and he didn’t miss the way your eyes widened, flitting towards his hand.

“Christ, honey— didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth on you.” He suckled his bottom lip between his teeth, gazing down at you, all warm and gooey, melting your insides into mush, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach and throat. “You really want an old man like me?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, pout prominent on your puffy lips.

“You’re not old,” he chuckled at that, “want you so bad- want you to be my daddy.”

˖ ࣪⭑

It didn’t take long for you to get his pants off, he even helped you unbuckle his belt, lifting his hips up so you could bring them down to his thighs— along with his boxers of course, the sight that sprung from the material leaving you dumb and gawking.

He was huge, both in length and thickness. The rumours really were true, Steve Harrington was absolutely well-endowed, the tip a pretty pink, beaded with pre-cum that just started to trickle along his shaft and into the ridges that ran along the length.

Steve chuckled at your wide eyes, knuckles smoothing against your cheek and chin, eyeing at your parted lips and his cock twitched again when he thought about pressing his thumb between them.

“You’re so big.” You managed to choke out, fingers tentatively wrapping around his base— thumb and fingers barely meeting in the middle from the sheer thickness of it.

You squeezed, hard, watching the way his tummy muscles clenched and his tip leaked.

“I know, sweet girl, but you’re gonna take it so well—” he hissed through clenched teeth at the way your fingers felt, “promise.”

You nodded up at him, already cock-drunk and dumb from his coos, pouting prettily while you felt him up, smearing his pearly pre-cum around, lubing him up real good before you got to work.

“Fuckin’ Christ—” he moaned, your puffy lips wrapped snugly around him after pressing a spongy kiss to his tip, suckling him slightly and lathering your tongue against the thick vein that ran upwards, before pulling off with a lewd pop.

The corners of your lips curled, fluttering your lashes and running your tongue from base to tip, kissing up his shaft and pressing the imprint of your lipstick into his flushed skin.

“Doesn’t that feel good, daddy?” You took him down your throat before he could answer, already touching the back and it wasn’t even all of him, earning a groan that rumbled the span of his chest.

“Y-yeah, honey, feels so good—” he cradled your head, fingers tangling in the strands of your hair, “such a daddy’s girl, hm?”

You hummed around his cock in response, thighs squeezing impossibly close from how turned on you were, arousal practically dripping through your underwear and slicking up the fat of your thighs.

“Yeah you are—” he grinned, pushing you down further, choking you entirely and causing you to gag around his hefty length. “Atta girl.”

It was messy, spit trickling down your chin, pooling along your tits and ruining your makeup— your mascara running down your cheeks in long, black lines and clumping up your sticky lashes.

You were crying, too— tears slipping over your brimming waterline, eyes all glassy and cute, swirly little sparkles floating around your irises whenever you looked up at him.

He looked so pretty, skin glistening with perspiration, a few buttons on his shirt undone and showing off the expanse of his handsome chest, the sight of the course dark hair had you drooling on his cock even more.

“So good to me,” he cooed, “all mine.”

You felt your eyes rolling back, clit pulsing furiously at the idea of being his and his only— you just wanted to be filled by him and bounce on his cock like a little bunny, let him fuck you nice and deep so you’d feel him for days.

“Say it, honey—” he pulled at your hair, cock falling from your lips, “say you’re mine.”

“M’all yours, daddy.” You preened, clutching at his thighs, leaving crescent moons in your wake, “only want you.”

“Fuck— come ‘ere,” he helped you stand up, lips curling upwards slightly when you stumbled on your feet, patting at his lap. “On my lap, there we go.”

You settled yourself, knees digging into the sides of the chair either side of him, hands already drawn to his chest and your palms smoothed over it, tugging at the hair there and thumbs grazing slightly over his nipples.

Steve’s big arms enveloped you, wrapping you up in a sort of hug, bringing your cheek down to smoosh against his chest, letting you nuzzle into him.

It was a strange sort of calm— a few minutes wrapped up, somewhat sated though still needy and pining for each other’s affection. It was nice.

You realised it was nice to feel like you were his.

“What do you need, honey?” He muttered, chin pressed against your head, hands trailing along your back and sometimes slipping to the plush of your ass.

“Wanna be yours,” your whine was muffled by the press of his fuzzy chest, “wanna make you feel good— all the time.”

His cock throbbed at the way you spoke, so crude and sweet, honeyed words travelling straight between his legs and causing him to drip.

He was in too deep and it was not good.

“Come on then, doll-” he cooed, smacking a kiss to your flushed cheek and patting at your ass to get your attention. “Show daddy.”

You nodded, fumbling with the buttons on your blouse, huffing out a breath of frustration before letting him take over, watching with bated breaths as is hands pushed your shirt to the floor, smoothing his palms along your tits and kneading at the covered mounds.

“So pretty, baby,” he pulled at the cups of your bra, letting the weight of your breasts spill over the underwire and the cute little bow that sat in between, showing off your nipples and the way they hardened completely from under his gaze. “Can’t believe you’ve been hidin’ these pretty girls from me.”

Both of Steve’s thumbs grazed over your nipples, bringing his forefingers to squeeze and pull at them, tugging them just to make you mewl and feel the wet spot underneath your skirt grow even larger. And you were putty in his hands, melting into his touch, inebriated from the way he spoke to you, touched you, looked at you.

God, he was handsome.

“Daddy—” you whined, clutching at his wrists and grinding against his cock.

“What is it, honey?” His face was so close to yours, eyes fixated on your pretty tits and he made a quick mental note to pay more attention to them later on.

“Wan’ you to fuck me.” So abrupt, pouting over-exaggerated and lashes fluttering— your pussy way too slick and aroused to have anything other than his cock inside, stretching you out and filling you so lovely.

“Such a greedy thing already-” he pulled you in closer, “barely sucked my cock and you’re just so needy, honey.”

“Can’t help it,” you leaned forward, nose against his, tracing the tip over his cheek and along the edge of his gold-rimmed glasses. “So handsome.”

Steve’s head was in a tizzy, twirling around all dumbified at how pliant you were, how sweet and doting— small praises like that were so big for him, making that blotchy raspberry blush creep and wrap around his neck, fluttering down his chest and even speckling the tips of his ears (the colour much akin to the rouge tip of his cock).

“Gimme a kiss, sweet girl.” Voice so smooth despite the stern undertone, gliding from his teeth to the tip of his tongue and bringing you even closer with a hand cupped around the nape of your neck, fiddling with the little, sensitive hairs that adorned the space.

You obeyed of course, completely eager if anything, practically bouncing at the chance to press your mouth to his. You had been waiting for it, so had he, the soft, spongy kisses— one, two, three, in a quick peckpeckpeck, before it turned deeper, mouths locking, feeling yourself sigh and relax against the firmness of his chest, allowing his to work you open as much as he desired.

The crude, slippery feeling of your tongues finally clashing had you reeling— licking into each other’s mouths and suckling on bottom lips, breath hitching in your throat and you resulted to pressing your palms against his cheeks as a way to ground you before you started floating away from his inebriating kiss.

“Want-” kiss. “Want me to take care of you—” kiss. “Don’t you, honey?”

Oh yes. God you wanted it so bad, you had ever since you laid eyes on him the first time you had met him— nervous and picking at your cuticles, standing shy as he opened his front door with that smile of his, full of charm and warmth— a little cocky at your shyness, though still stuck out a hand for you to shake. You distinctly remembered getting a little light-headed at the mere feeling of his big hand enveloping yours.

He chuckled when you nodded, eyes all dizzy and hooded and he sucked your tongue between his kiss-bitten lips.

“Pretty cunt is fuckin’ droolin’ f’me, baby,” he cupped at the heat between your thighs, your skirt bunched up around the fat of your waist and he thumbed at the pearl of your clit over the sopping fabric that covered you. “Does she want daddy’s cock? Bet she does, huh?”

Your eyes were rolling again, and you were surprised any part of you still functioned. You felt so dumb, so cock-drunk, and you wondered how on earth you would act with his fat cock stuffed deep inside you, jamming at your insides and fucking you until you couldn’t think, just feel.

“Please.” It was a simple utterance, barely there, fluttering your lashes while you said it to sway him, to quicken the pace and have him fill you, though the tears that slipped weren’t for show, brimming down your cheeks constantly from how overwhelmed you were feeling.

“Please, what? What d’you want?”

You pouted at him, nosing at his cheek, not budging until he brought a palm down against your ass, spanking it sharply and swiftly, knocking the air from your already weakened lungs.

“Come on, don’t get shy on me now,” he tugged at the waistband of your panties, pulling upwards until the crotch of them slipped between your folds, snug against your clit and making you mewl. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it t’you.”

“W-want you to fill me up— wan’ your cock inside me, please-”

“Atta girl, wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You watched with widened eyes as he gripped at the base of his cock, and still, every time you stared at it, the size of him left you a little breathless, wondering whether he would even fit.

He tugged your underwear to the side, the pink cotton basically see-through and glistening, and he let out a breathy moan at his first glance at your bare pussy. So pretty, so ready for him— wet and slick, clit all engorged and peaking from the hood, begging for some stimulation and you made a similar sound when he tapped his tip against it, pushing it downwards against your hole, collecting your sweet arousal before repeating the action, over and over and over again.

“Don’t get all pouty, gotta make sure you’re ready f’me, honey.”

You wanted to scream at him, holler at the top of your lungs that you were ready— so fucking ready, but you couldn’t, not when his kids were upstairs asleep— you couldn’t afford for them to wake up, you didn’t want the attention to end.

And that was what it come to— selfishly, you wanted all the attention he had to give.

He looked at you, pressed a kiss to your forehead, the glasses that sat upon his bridge slightly askew and you leaned to fix them.

“You think you can take it, baby, or did you want my mouth for a bit?”

A good offer, but you shook your head still, you’d have that later if he was willing, and the mere idea of having him feast upon your pussy had you dripping on the velvety skin of his cock even more than before.

Steve made a humming noise in the back of his throat, before pulling at your thighs, tugging you closer to his chest and having you hover over the length of his cock, just waiting as patient as you could for him to sit you down onto him.

“Be a good girl now— gotta relax f’me.” His hand on your hip helped you sink, the other still wrapped around the base, feeding it slowly into your greedy pussy, watching with a heaving chest at the way your cunt sucked him in, but he could feel the stretch of your walls around him.

“Waitwaitwait—” you gasped out a breath you had been holding, “just need a minute.”

You felt so full, stretched completely, a little less than half of his cock sat inside you and it was still bigger than any you had taken before.

He coddled you, shushing you and pushing a hand up to smooth over your hair.

“Take your time, honey—” he hummed, smacking a wet kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I know it’s a lot to take.”

“You’re huge.” He chuckled at that, though he couldn’t fight the little hitch in his breath when your walls clenched around him, trying hard to adjust.

“I know, I know, but you’re already takin’ it so well.”

The praise had you drip further, the see-through lines of arousal slipping over the rivets on his cock, creating an obscene squelching sound when you lowered yourself a little further.

Just over half now, splitting you open, practically in your guts, you thought at least, and you were sure if you pressed hard enough on the plush of your stomach you would probably feel him there.

“There you go-” he was still cooing at you and you gave him your biggest heart eyes, pout permanently etched onto your lips, and he hoped it wasn’t going anywhere soon. “shit, y’don’t even need any help, takin’ it like a fucking’ champ.”

Almost there, almost all of him was nestled snug inside your cunt, so in a swift movement, you sunk down entirely, a rather less-than-quiet moan simmering from your lips and if it was just the two of you in the house, he would’ve basked in your loudness and pretty whines, but it wasn’t— and the two of you really needed to be quiet.

He pressed a palm over your mouth to stifle your sounds, your lips kissing the divots on the front of his hand, so warm and large, big enough it covered your whole chin and your lashes fluttered at the feeling.

And you started to move, still worked up, and a little sore, but were you really to blame? His cock was massive, stretching and filling places where you didn’t know anyone could reach, and once you started easing yourself up, right to the tip, you sank back down again, a little harsher than the first, whining into his callused skin whilst your eyes rolled back.

With each slow downward thrust of your hips, you could feel the course, dark thatch of hair that trailed from his stomach all the way down to the base of his cock. It was tickling against your clit, much akin to the hair that littered the thickness of those strong thighs of his, rubbing against your ass so deliciously. And his balls, shit— so big, so fucking heavy, full of his cum, the Harrington prodigy stored up inside of them and you throbbed and twitched at the thought of carrying his babies.

Fuck, you were totally down bad.

“What’re you thinkin’ about, honey?” It was almost as if he knew, a smirk heavy and crooked on his lips, his flashy Rolex glistening upon his wrist in the dim light of the lamp while he guided you up and down, up and down, nice and steady, but so, so deep.

You shied away, gaze flitting to the ceiling, and you would’ve stayed like that, waiting for him to drop it, until his palm— once again— came down on your ass in a smack, much heavier than before, much more painful than before, but the sting of it bloomed in your core and had more blood rushing to your clit.

“Come on— when I ask you somethin’ I expect an answer.” He was stern and sharp, though the smirk never left, plucking at the corner of his mouth and mocking you so delectably.

“M’sorry, daddy—” you crooned, hands sliding from his shoulders to the thick muscle of his biceps, the designer fabric of his shirt smooth under your palms. “Was thinking about your cum—”

Your whine was breathy, but you made sure to quiet down, his hips now moving in time with yours, knowing you could take him fully now, though just barely.

“Yeah, you thinkin’ about getting filled? Having all of this cum inside your pretty tummy, huh?” You were glad he had said it for you, far too embarrassed, and way too fucked out to string that sentence together, and the words, when they came from his mouth, sounded much better, you thought. “Want my babies, don’t you, hon?”

You were babbling nonsensical nothings, a sweet concoction of ‘oh yes daddydaddy, please’ fluttering from your puffy lips— nodding at him and clutching at him, his arms, his chest, anywhere you could find, until you settled on his hands, resting your own over his, while they pressed into your hips, guiding you faster now.

It had taken you a little while, but once you were comfortable, you had started to bounce like a little bunny in season, fucking down onto his thick cock, feeling the cut tip of his nudge at your g-spot, the ridges and veins that ran along the shaft so present and eager against your walls— you felt everything, so full, so sated, actually, scratch that, you weren’t sated, not until his cum was deep inside you, not a drop wasted.

“Who would’a thought you’d be bouncin’ on my cock tonight, sweetheart- shit—” sweat was shimmering on his skin, his stomach muscles clenching, not wanting to cum too soon. “So glad it’s you, sweet girl— my girl.”

You nodded, breathless.

“M’your girl, daddy. All f’you.”

Steve was close, closer once you uttered those words, sucking breaths in and bringing you closer, forehead pressed against yours, the sound of the squelchy slapslapslap filling the stuffy room.

“That’s right, that’s right— Christ, m’so close, daddy’s so fuckin’ close.”

And you were too, embarrassingly so, and you made it apparent with your whines, pressing your kisses into his skin, the pace between you growing sloppy, though somehow harder.

“Am too,” you babbled, “can we cum together?”

So sweet, so fucking sweet you were, eyes all big and wet and glistening so prettily, and he thought he would bust at merely gazing at you, but he nodded, his own irises moulding into hearts, quite similar to yours, beating out of his skull like an old Tom and Jerry cartoon.

“Yeah, honey,” he said, “yeah, we can cum together, such a good girl.”

The rope was growing taut, deep in your belly, just begging to snap any time soon, all you were waiting for was one word, one single word to have you unraveling above him—

“Cum,” that was it. “Cum f’me— shit, so good—”

Stars and sparkles all flurried your vision, clouding around Steve and highlighting the way he looked when he came, mouth agape, wanting so badly to close his eyes, but he couldn’t, not when you looked the way you did.

You were a mess, convulsing against his chest, creaming his cock, clenching and twitching around him while you milked him of his sticky cum.

Steve’s lips were on yours in an instant, tongue and lips, sloppy and wet, spit trickling down your chins at the lazy kiss, but too fucked out to care.

And for a while you stayed there, on his lap, slowly kissing while he cradled your head and muttered pretty praises into your ear, though you couldn’t shake a certain thought that swam through the haze that was your brain.

What the fuck happens now?

✰

tagging <3—

@ghostlyfleur @hornyhornyhimbos @crowssixof @lavendermunson @esquivelbianca @ratzztar @justpeachy46 @jackchampionsbbg @hazzaismyreligion @harrington-lover @spikedhe4rt @gabessock

(some blogs i wasn’t able to tag, sorry about that <33)