#i just want to take him to a farmer's market and cut his hair in the bathroom at 2am

[echoes-lighthouse]

Can I bug you on more info on your self ship with Tomura? I love a de-aging quirk plotline and and I just wanna know what happens next. When do you see him again? Do you eventually join the League? What's your opinions on the other Villains??

OH!!!!! You absolutely can!

I've actually been thinking of writing my story with Tomu as a reader-insert fic, I've written the first couple chapters but never gotten further than that.

Basically, Tomura starts following me around after the quirk wears off. Trying to make sense of the memories, trying to figure out what he's feeling. I eventually notice that I'm being followed by someone and I'm like 'hmmm that's probably not good, but I don't quite know what to do about it?'

Before I can make up my mind whether to confront him, he shows up at my door, little bit of a mess, very touch-starved, and tells me that he's Tenko. Tells me his new name and very little else. Still, I'm overjoyed to see him, to know that he's okay.

This adult version of the child that I met, he's quieter and more closed-off, tends to snap when he's feeling vulnerable. He doesn't wear the Quirk-disrupting gloves that I got for Tenko, but at the same time, he doesn't seem at ease with his Quirk, always keeping one finger up when he's touching things to avoid disintegrating them.

He starts hanging out at my apartment: I can tell something is wrong, but he just seems to need a safe space, and I can provide that. We slip into some of the same habits as when he was young: I read out loud while he plays games on a handheld console, I chatter in his direction while I cook. We make new traditions as well: playing games together, both board games and video games. He's hilariously competitive, and he lights up when he's trash-talking me in the middle of a round. I think it's hilarious. We watch TV together. We talk about mundane things and I let him dodge any serious questions.

And then the attack on the school happens, and eventually everything comes out.

Very long story short: nope, I never join the League. I work quietly behind the scenes with love and support until Shigaraki is ready to face the fact that All For One's mission was forced on him: that he was very much mistreated and conditioned from a young age.

Then I help him organize a bit of a coup, the rest of the League of Villains gets involved, they attack and kill All For One, and Shiggy and I head off to Canada with new undercover identities. We stay in touch with some members of the League over a messenger app. We're not especially close but if any of them needed help, my door would be open.

Basically, my selfship with Tomura is Pure Domesticity with a little break in the middle for murdering All For One and then we get back to the pure domesticity but with secret undercover identities.

[apocalypseornaw]

Stretch it Out

Dean Winchester x Reader

When you need help stretching it takes an interesting turn

Warnings: Cursing, NSFW things

One of the many empty rooms in the bunker had been turned into an exercise area of sorts. It'd started off as Sam's brain child for mornings he couldn't go for a run, he'd found a cheap enough treadmill and tossed it in the room. Next came the weight bench, the punching bags and eventually the mats that were used for a mixture from sparring to yoga. It had gotten turned into a pretty decent home gym.

You were alone in the room, Dean had gone on a store run and Sam was in the shower. After the last hunt you'd gotten slammed around pretty good, Cas had healed what he could but turns out even angel mojo couldn't help tight hips. You were trying your best to get them to pop because that was what you desperately needed.

You'd gotten into boxing with Donna and knew what stretches would help, the problem was you needed assistance with it and didn't want to have to drive to Sioux Falls just to get it. You could ask Sam for help but given the position the stretches would put you in, you felt weird asking your best friend to do so and the thought of asking Dean embarrassed you bad enough you'd rather go a few rounds with a rugaru then attempt it.

You finally gave up about the time you heard Dean's voice echo down the hall "Honey I'm home" you laughed as you slipped your feet into the slides you wore around the bunker and headed for the kitchen where he was unloading groceries "I'm assuming that honey I'm home was for me or else things are really weird between you and Sam"

He stopped mid putting milk in the fridge "Sweetheart" the tone of his voice made you crack up "I'm kidding Dean. I'm kidding" he put the milk in the fridge then turned to face you, eyeing your clothes "What's with the active wear?" You looked down at yourself because you were just wearing high-waisted leggings and an old t-shirt you'd cropped off a bit because it'd been way too long to use any of the weights or punching bag while wearing.

"I was stretching out. My hips still aren't feeling quite up to par" he nodded slowly "Did you get them popped or whatever you said they needed?" You shook your head "I can't get into the positions I need to by myself" "Sam couldn't help?" He asked as you grabbed a bag and started putting its contents away.

You shook your head but didn't further elaborate. The two of you had everything put away within a few minutes. You grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and started to walk out the kitchen when Dean stopped you "Hey, let me throw on some sweats and I'll help you stretch"

You knew your eyes widened at that because he chuckled "Oh don't think I can help with stuff like that? I'm only good for the punchy stuff?" You shook your head "No Dean it's not that.." he cut you off "Good. Meet me in the gym in five" "Ok" you finally replied knowing arguing was no use.

---------

About the time Dean walked out the kitchen Sam walked in with his hair still wet from the shower "I should throw this damn water at you for not being five minutes faster" Sam was not ignorant to your feelings for his older brother but had guarded your secret for a while. He grinned slightly "And why is that?"

You groaned "Dean's gonna help me stretch out my hips" in that moment Sam very much looked like he may just chew his bottom lip off in an attempt to not laugh in your face at your dismay. "Oh go ahead!" You finally said and he nearly doubled over "Does he know the positioning of those stretches?" You shook your head and that only made him laugh harder.

He finally regained his composure enough to check his watch "I'm gonna go into town to the farmers market. I'll get some of those apples you like and I'll be gone for a couple hours" "Why?" You questioned but he just patted your shoulder on the way by.

"SAMUEL?" You hollered behind him but only heard his laughter in return. Dean walked up behind you and nearly made you scream when he said "What was that about?" You looked over your shoulder at him and smiled slightly "He's going to the farmers market and refused to get me apples" "You know he will" he replied then tapped your hip "C'mon"

You stood across from Dean nervously chewing on your bottom lip. You both had warmed up enough already so you had no excuse but christ you were freaking out internally. "Ok sweetheart, where do we start?" He asked with a smile that caused your heart to jump "Um Ok. I'm gonna lay down on the mat and I need you to stand over me and I'll bend one knee then fold it over the hip on my opposite side I just need you to apply enough counter pressure"

He raised one eyebrow but nodded nonetheless "Well get into position and I'll do my job" you laid down flat on your back and swallowed hard looking up at him before bending your knee on the left side and tucking it over your right hip. He smirked slightly then leaned over "Just apply pressure until i say stop. I can handle it" he nodded "Oh I know"

---------

You tried that stretch on both hips hoping it would work because it was the position that gave the most room between you and Dean even if just from that position alone you were having to stare at the roof to not be staring into those green eyes that made you forget any and all thoughts. You finally rolled up into a seated position, Dean was sitting across from you on his knees "What now?"

You could feel your cheeks threaten to warm as you damn near stuttered "H-How much do you want to help me?" He watched you for a moment "I want to make sure you're not hurting. Now what do I need to do?" You nodded slowly "Im gonna lay back, I need you to kneel between my legs and put one of my legs on your shoulder then just push it down towards my shoulder applying even pressure until either it loosens up or I say stop"

He motioned towards the mat "Let's do it" good lord could he have picked a worse way to say it? You laid down and when he moved closer you felt your face begin to warm so you bit down on the inside of your cheek as a distraction In hopes it would get get your mind off the position at hand.

However nothing on earth could have distracted from from him gripping your hips firmly to pull you down the mat closer to him, spreading your legs slightly. A small gasp escaped you when your hips bumped into his then he turned just enough to gently grab your left leg and lift it onto his shoulder "Like this sweetheart?"

You knew your voice wouldn't work at the moment so you just nodded.

---------

There was a mantra going through Dean's head which consisted of three words....don't get hard. Damn why hadn't he just stayed in his jeans? That would've offered a thicker layer between your bodies but he hadn't realized how close the stretching required you to be besides the denim probably would've been uncomfortable to you considering you were just wearing thin leggings.

The first stretch hadn't been that bad but he noticed how you wouldn't meet his eyes while he was standing over you. Sam's words from a few days before when he'd been certain you were flirting with the bartender at some backwoods dive the three of you had stopped in ran through his head "Believe me Dean, she could give a damn less about that guy"

Then when you stuttered asking him to do this current position? Maybe he did have a chance. He had to stop a smirk from slipping onto his face when you gasped lightly from him pulling you closer and pulling your leg up on his shoulder. Not like he hadn't imagined you like this a thousand times before....of course then you weren't dressed or in the gym or just stretching.

When you finally looked up to meet his eyes he smiled "like this sweetheart?" And noticed just how wide your eyes were when you nodded.

----------

Your knee was nearly touching your shoulder when you felt the release in your hip and a moan that completely mortified you escaped your lips at the feeling. Dean froze dead in his tracks, your leg still on his shoulder and cut his eyes at you with one eyebrow raised "What was that?"

You covered your face with your hands "I am so sorry Dean. That just felt so damn good" he gently lowered your left leg and you expected him to walk out the room due to the awkwardness but instead he moved to the right side and lifted your leg onto his shoulder "Look at me and I'll see if i can get you to moan again from this side" he teased.

You slowly lowered your hands and he winked at you "Attagirl. We're both adults here no shame in something feeling good besides maybe it boosts my ego knowing you moaned like that and I was technically the cause of it...I mean I've heard some of your excuses for dates in the past..."

"Shut up Dean!" You laughed but he started to push your leg towards your shoulder and damn him he'd been paying attention to the last leg and knew just what angle to use because you quickly felt the release in that side and the fucking moan you let slip out was borderline pornagraphic.

----------

He spoke your name gently and you looked up at him. He was watching you carefully "You good?" You smiled "I'm great" you shifted your hips as much as you could considering one of them was still on his shoulder but froze when you felt something against your inner thigh "Um Dean?"

"Huh?" He asked then must have realized his body had reacted. "Oh fuck darling. I am so damn sorry" he put your leg down quickly and went to stand up but you grabbed his hand "Wait" he wouldn't meet your eyes "I'm sorry sweetheart. It's just you're a beautiful woman, the position we were in...." he groaned lightly before adding "and the noises you were making under me"

"Dean" you tried again and when he finally met your eyes you reached for his shoulders and pulled him into a kiss.

The kiss took Dean off guard. He'd expected you to be pissed at him, hell possibly swing but the shock quickly wore off as he shifted around to push your back down against the mat. You hooked one of your legs around his waist pulling him down with you. He groaned into the kiss when you rolled your hips up to meet his.

He broke away from the kiss to look at you. You were laying under him, eyes wide and pupils blown. Your chest was heaving just slightly and a smile was playing at your lips "Sweetheart what are we doing here?" You raised an eyebrow and glanced down at where your bodies were pressed against each other, thin layers of clothing the only thing separating you "I thought it was kind of clear Dean"

---------

He laughed lightly then leaned down again catching your lips with his once more. He felt your hands slip under his shirt, an unspoken request for more access to him. He pulled back just enough to slip the shirt over his head and throw it somewhere behind him. He smiled when he saw your hands go towards the hem of your shirt and covered them with his own. He glanced up at you for permission and you nodded so he slipped the shirt over your head and tossed it leaving you in just your leggings and sports bra.

"Come here" you whispered pulling him back down to you. He moved from your lips down to your neck biting and sucking the skin, enjoying what sounds he could pull from you. When he kissed down your chest he felt your breathing speed up as he nipped at your breast through the cloth still covering it. "Fuck Dean" you moaned and he could've came then and there from hearing his name come out of you like that. "Let me enjoy this" he teased before pulling the bra off of you.

--------

The moment your chest was completely bared to him Dean leaned down flicking one of your nipples into his mouth with his tongue while his hand worked the other. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, the pleasure you were feeling when he'd barely touched you was dizzying.

He moved from your chest, kissing down your stomach and stopping just shy of the top of your leggings. He glanced up at you through his long lashes and you felt a rush of heat go straight to your core "Can I?" You nodded, lifting your hips to help him get the leggings off.

"Damn baby you're already soaked" he cooed slipping one finger inside of you causing a light gasp to slip free of your lips. He smiled wickedly then added another finger, basking in the way you moaned his name "I wanna see what you look like when you come" he spoke curling his fingers inside of you until he found that spot that made your eyes roll back. When your back arched up off the mat he chuckled "There it is"

He crashed his lips against yours in a rough kiss while he worked you over that edge, feeling you tighten around his fingers. You could feel the tension building in your lower stomach and barely got out the words "Dean I'm gonna.." before it snapped pushing you over that edge and causing your vision to go soft around the edges.

"Soo damn sexy" he whispered moving back down your body. You'd barely had any time to recover before his head was moving between your legs, you felt the first tentative lick and moaned his name loudly which spurred his actions one.

The way his mouth felt on your body had every damn nerve ending on fire. You could feel that tension building again already. You'd never come this close together but the moment his lips locked around your clit sucking roughly you were pushed over that edge yet again. He stayed working you over until you pushed at his shoulders weakly "Too much. Too much"

-----------

He rocked back on his heels, wiping a thumb across his lower lip before sucking on it "Fuck you taste as good as you look" you smiled lazily "Normally I'd love to return the favor and I promise to next time but please will you take off your pants and fuck me?"

"Next time huh?" He asked as he pushed his pants down his hips along with his boxers then kicked them off. You'd always figured Dean was well endowed. Awkward moments with hotel showers had happened but damn he was big and thick. You licked your lips and he grinned running a hand across his cock "Like what ya see sweetheart?"

You rolled your eyes "Would like it better if it was inside me" He smirked "Well who am I to keep a lady waiting" he gripped your hips, snatching you closer to him much the way he had earlier. You could feel the head of his cock teasing your opening and could feel yourself clenching around air in anticipation "Are you sure?" He asked and you nearly whined in frustration "Please?"

He nodded as he pushed into you causing a moan to be pulled from you both once he was fully sheathed he held still to let you adjust to him. He caught your lips in a passionate kiss, tongue flicking against yours allowing you to taste yourself on him. Once the pain of the stretch faded to pressure you moved your hips against his to let him know he could move.

He started to roll his hips into yours causing your back to arch up off the mat with every movement "Fuck Dean, you feel so fucking good" you praised and that seemed to spur his movements. He changed his angle just slightly and when the head of his cock rubbed across that certain spot you could vaguely register your nails digging into his shoulders "Right there baby, please don't stop"

"Wasn't planning on it" he teased. It felt amazing but you knew you both needed a little more "You can fuck me harder Dean. I won't break" you moaned and he leaned his forehead over in the crook of your neck as his thrusts got somehow even deeper and harder. You could feel that tension building again and knew he could feel you clenching harder around him "Go ahead sweetheart. Come for me" He spoke into your skin, one hand slipping between you to rub tight circles onto your clit. You came for the third time with a scream of his name on your lips.

Once you came down from the high slightly you could feel his thrusts begin to falter. You turned your attention to him fully, kissing across his jaw and down his neck as you said "Let me feel you come Dean, please. Fill me up baby" his jaw clenched tightly at your words as his thrusts sped up chasing his own release.

He buried himself inside you with one final thrust and the feeling of him coming inside of you managed to push you over that edge for the fourth time.

He collapsed on top of you, supporting most of his body weight on your lower half so you could breath. "God damn sweetheart. I'm so fucking glad Sam didn't help you stretch" You popped his shoulder "Don't be an ass Dean"

After a moment of you both simply catching your breath he leaned up to be able to look at your face "On a serious note I don't want this to be a one time thing and not just this...I um want us to try to this I mean if you want" you laughed lightly causing him to groan considering he was still inside of you "Are you asking me to be your girlfriend after nearly fucking me stupid in the bunkers home gym?"

He nodded "Yeah?" You pulled him into a kiss before saying "On the condition that you help me make it to the shower before Sam gets back because my legs have no feeling in them after coming that much" you could see the moment the smug smirk began to pull at his face "Oh really?" You rolled your eyes and started to say something back but he chose then to pull out of you which caused another gasp to leave you.

"I can manage to help my girl shower" he added with a wink.

"How's your hips feel?" Dean asked after you both had showered and you were laying in his bed with his arms around you. You laughed "They feel absolutely amazing"

He leaned down to kiss you but right before your lips touched you heard Sam holler "IN THE GYM? REALLY. YOU TWO ARE ANIMALS!"

Dean smirked at you "Any complaints?" "None at all" you replied pulling him into you for the kiss.

[clandestineloki]

Cold Flower (NSFW)

A/N: My public apology for going dormant on Tumblr for nearly 5 months.

tw: jotun!loki dom!loki, sub!cottagegirl!reader, loki’s cock is big but his size kink is bigger, corruption kink, praise kink, manhandling but very cutely if i may say!!, unrealistically fast paced because loki is horny ) >:D

read it on ao3!!

================================================

The grass tickles your ankles as you step through the bushes, careful not to step on any pretty flowers in your path.

Sunset is nearing, and you've only gotten so much as a few ferns. But you don't mind. The forest will bloom when it wants to, and even if you haven't collected any flowers for your work you're having a wonderful time looking around at all the birds and the deer and the butterflies and nature; just getting away from the busy life in the village is enough of a treat.

Stepping through a clear patch, you look around for any deer traps. What deer traps? The ones that have hidden nets that burst out from the ground like flytraps and scoop up any poor being that just happened to be there, leaving them trapped up in the air by a rope tied to a tree.

Now that you think of it, a clear patch in the middle of the forest means one thing: a deer trap has been set off already.

Right above where you stand.

Realizing the danger of being anywhere near a threatened or harmed deer, you’re ready to bolt out of the woods when you look up, and see a net that’s filled with leaves, branches, and stray grass reeds.

And dangling out of the net is a leg— a leg that looks less like a deer’s… and more of a person’s.

You gasp in horror. Someone’s caught in it!

Running around the tree, you find the rope suspending the trap buried in the ground. You rummage for your shears and hastily cut it, grabbing the rope to pull it down with your weight and let the trap sink to the ground slowly.

When it does, you run over, cutting away as much of the net as you can, digging through the leaves until you reach someone covered in an enormous fur cape.

You gingerly pull it back, and stare in awe.

It’s a man, with dark hair and sharp features, no doubt very handsome despite the scratches and cuts he’s sustained. The linen top he’s wearing is littered with twigs.

Softly, you brush away the twigs when you touch his wrist and freeze.

And quite literally, because his skin is as cold as ice.

Almost as if he were a corpse.

“Sir! Sir! Please wake up!”

When Prince Loki’s eyes open and adjust to the glare of the sun— and the silhouette blocking it out— his breath hitches.

Is this Valhalla? Am I… dead?

Surely, he must be. For above him kneels the most beautiful girl, almost shimmering in the golden light, it’s definite that you’re an angel.

“Hello? Sir? Can you hear me?”

An even lovelier voice for a radiant woman. He nods, and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank goodness!” You lean forward, brushing away twigs from his face and cloak. “I thought you had died! I hate those deer traps, they’re dangerous and they're so hard to see! It almost killed you! Are you alright?”

“Yes- Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”

It’s as if he spoke without thinking, eager to hear more from your pretty lips. You catch your breath, kneeling back down, and he sits up to get a better look at the captivating face of his savior.

“How long have you been up there?”

Loki brushes his hand against his cheek. “I'm not quite sure- ah-”

He hisses when his fingers graze a wound on his temple, and he retracts his hand to find a few specks of scarlet.

“Probably not long, I'm still bleeding,” he shows you his hand, and you gasp.

“Oh, no,” you take a closer look at his face. “My house isn't far from here, I can help you clean up and get some rest. You must be exhausted. Are you alright with some porridge and biscuits? They're all I have the ingredients for and the farmers’ market is a bit far so I'm sorry if...”

Loki honestly can’t concentrate on what you're saying. He nods along, but he's rather focused on you.

As he tags along behind you as you retrace your steps to your home, Loki whispers a thanks to whatever Gods led him to be graced by your beauty in this moment, regardless of the circumstance. He had just been hunting for sport, unaware of the trap that had pulled him up into the tree so suddenly and rendered him unconscious.

Now, he's found something— no, someone— better; a much more rewarding, delicious little prey.

“I just realized I haven't introduced myself."

Loki looks up just as you say your name, timidly holding out your hand. He takes it after a moment.

“Loki,” he replies, once he finds it in himself to speak.

“Like the prince?"

He recoils a bit in surprise. “Yes- Yes, like the prince. Uh-"

“How are you feeling?" you ask, dabbing the cloth lightly against his wrist.

“They don't hurt if I don't move."

“Okay. Let me know if it does.”

Loki nods, watching you silently tend to his wounds, before he hisses softly.

You flinch, pulling away. “Oh, I'm sorry-"

“You really don't know who I am?” Loki asks.

A second passes as you look down at him, brows furrowing as you sit down next to him on your bed.

“I can't recall. Sorry, have you ordered flowers from me before?"

“You run a flower shop?”

“Yes, that's why I was in the woods. I was looking for fresh flowers and came across you up in that trap.” You tilt your head. “What were you doing in the forest, anyway?"

“I was... hunting for deer, and the last thing I remember is hearing something above me snap.”

“Hunting… Is that what you do for a living?”

“Well, no. My brother and I do it for sport."

“Oh."

Loki stares at you blankly. “My brother, Prince Thor."

You nod.

Loki chuckles. Your pretty little head hasn't registered it.

He leans in close, brushing his lips against your ear, and whispers very slowly:

“I'm Prince Loki."

And the reaction he gets is the cutest. Your lips part as your eyes widen, to which he grins.

But he doesn't expect you to fling yourself off the side of the bed and onto the ground, bowing down to him.

“Your Highness!” you squeak. “I'm so sorry, I didn't know!! I-”

“Darling, please," he chuckles, shaking his head. “That isn't necessary-"

“I'm so sorry, I'll get some tea, do you want anything from the market? Please, allow me-”

Loki bends down, lifting you off the floor in a princess carry and sets you down on the bed.

“Please, don’t stress yourself. You saved my life.”

He takes your hand, kissing it softly as he smiles up at you.

“Thank you, pretty angel.”

Your eyes widen as you stutter out tiny breaths. Norns, aren’t you the most adorable?

“I don’t think you believe me.” He stands up, pretending to be offended by your silence.

“No!” you cry . “I mean- I do believe you! It’s just- I was surprised, I didn’t think-”

“Didn’t think what? A prince would just be out in the woods for no reason?” He laughs, leaning down to you. Before you can respond, he chuckles again. “That’s alright,” he steps back, “you just need a little… evidence.”

Loki closes his eyes, and lets himself shift into his true form: blue skin, dark green patterns across his biceps. He hears the tiniest gasp of amazement from you as the magic also heals his wounds and cuts (and hopes that he’ll hear more of those cute noises very soon).

When he’s done transforming, he opens his eyes and stares down at you.

Dear Norns.

He knew he was already taller than you in human form, but this was just delightful. You’re much tinier than him, staring up at his stature with those wide doe eyes of yours.

“You are-” you blink a few times in shock. “You are the Jotun prince.”

He smiles even wider. “That’s right.”

“And… I… just saved the Jotun prince.”

He starts laughing, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Clever girl.” He knows he’s downright cruel, teasing you just because you’re so cute. “And do you want anything in return for ‘saving the Jotun prince’?”

“Well, I don’t know-”

Loki walks closer to you, and stands between your legs as he drops his cloak to the floor and leans down, drawling his next words very slowly.

“You deserve something… special. Something downright… pleasurable as a reward for saving my life. Something that you’ll remember for the rest of yours.”

He chuckles darkly when your breath hitches in realization.

He wants to make love to you.

“What?”

He pushes you down on the bed, trapping you in with his large body as he takes your wrists in one of his hands.

“You’ll feel undeniable bliss. I’ll take you over and over and over again until I’m sure you’re truly satisfied, because you’re such a sweet little angel saving my life and cleaning me up and looking so fuckable.”

You mewl, no doubt keening from his dirty words. He cups your chin.

“All you have to do is say yes. You don’t even have to do anything~”

His thumb brushes over your quivering lips, and push into your mouth. Loki grins as you look up at him, nodding slowly.

“Use your words, angel,” he teases, pulling his thumb away from your mouth.

It takes you a few moments to catch your breath. “Okay…”

He wanted to make you beg. He wanted you to say please, please fuck me so he could flip you over like you weighed nothing and take you over and over again like you’d asked but the way you whimpered withered away the last of his patience.

He had to make you his.

Loki captured you into a passionate kiss, muffling every last sound your pretty lips made so that only he could hear. He pulled away only to push you down on the sheets again, forcing his tongue into your mouth as you twitch in his hold, unable to comprehend how dizzy you are from just a kiss.

The two of you pull away for air as his dark green irises watches your eyes glaze over with submission. He grins, unbuttoning his white button-up and tosses it elsewhere.

He grins as you stare at his chest. Your tiny hands reach for him, tracing over the markings and patterns.

Loki hisses, taking your hands in one of his. You whimper as he stares down at you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “Did that hurt?”

“No, no.” His voice softens as he leans in, kissing your nose gently, his other hand pushing your dress up your thighs. He kisses your cheek, then presses his lips against your ear. You shiver at his ice-cold breath.

“It doesn’t, angel. It’s just that if you keep doing that, I won’t be able to resist flipping you over and pounding you into the sheets until you’re dripping with my cum and you can’t think.”

He pushes his knee against your crotch, making you squeak like a pathetic little mouse. Loki grins.

“I will be doing that, mind you,” he teases. “But I simply have to get a taste of your pretty juices first~”

Your skirt bunches up against your twitching hips as Loki stares down at your dripping cunt.

“Oh," Loki chuckles. “You're already wet for me, angel, isn't that adorable~?"

You mewl, bashfully covering your face as he grins at your embarrassment.

“Stop teasing..."

Loki shakes his head, pouting in mockery. “Only if you stop being so cute when you're flustered. But until then…”

He places his hands on your thighs, pulling you closer to him as he lowers his face to your mound.

“... I'll enjoy fucking you until you submit to me.”

Your eyes widen as he licks your folds very slowly, and you whine shakily.

“Prince Loki..."

Loki grins, kissing your pretty cunt wetly and pushing his tongue into your dripping hole. And your helpless whimper of pleasure as he devours your pretty pussy whole is the cutest and most captivating noise he's ever heard.

He draws it out of you again, and again, and again, drinking every bit of your slick, even if poor little you are just getting wetter and wetter.

You're panting now, and Loki is equally as short of breath, only ever breaking away from you to watch your pretty face scrunch up so cutely. Loki licks his lips, nibbling on your thighs and making you squeak and tremble in his icy grip.

“You're such an adorable little angel," Loki grumbles. "Makes me want to eat you up like a little mouse, hmm?”

He holds you down firmly as your moans tickle his ears. The way your little hole squeezes around nothing is just so cute, he just has to stuff you full after he makes you come far too many times than you can handle.

“Aww,” Loki chuckles as you whimper breathily, thighs thumping helplessly against the bed. “Little angel can’t take it anymore?”

He brushes a blue finger against your dripping folds, sinking into your hole for the millionth time making you squeak and sob in sensitivity.

“P-Please…” you mumble, glazed eyes pleading for a moment of rest.

He sighs, forgetting you’re just a pure little thing having her first time, and gently scoops you into his arms to press a few kisses to your cheek and whispering your name.

“Have I thanked you enough already~?” He teases, and you nod, nuzzling into his hold though you shiver lightly.

Loki’s heart skips a beat. He feels you cling to him tighter and he feels your little ass grinding against his cock.

“Well,” he muses, “I believe my kingdom will be overjoyed to find that an angel like yourself saved their prince, hmm?”

“Huh?” you ask, still pleasure-drunk as you settle into his lap, as if you perfectly fit in his hold.

“I said,” Loki chuckles his icy breath tickling your face, “My kingdom would be overjoyed to find a pretty thing like you saved the royal prince, wouldn't they?"

“Mhm..."

“And they'll throw a week-long celebration...” he continues, trailing kisses from your cheek to your shoulder. “All for you~”

“R-Really?” you gasp as he begins sucking on your skin, sure to leave marks after. “A whole week? That's too much-!”

Loki laughs against your shoulder, holding your hips down so he can feel your hips grind against his cock. “Nothing is too much for a perfect little angel like you~"

Loki licks the bite mark he's so carefully placed on your skin, then looks up at your glazed eyes and twitching pout.

“Would you like to come back with me to the palace?"

The look of confusion and bashfulness across your face makes his cock twitch against your bare folds.

“Me?! With you?!"

“Do you abhor the idea of that?”

He knows he's being mean and he knows you don't hate the idea, but Loki just can't resist seeing you so embarrassed and stuttering to apologize.

“No! I didn't mean that! I was just surprised-"

Loki shakes his head with a little chuckle, and brings you closer to his face to kiss the crease between your eyebrows.

“I know, I know. I was just teasing."

“Don't be mean like that!”

Loki laughs darkly when you cross your arms.

In a flash, he’s got you on your hands and knees before your pretty head can even figure out what’s going on.

“And if I do, what are you going to do about it?”

You shiver at the dark growl in his voice.

You're so far deep in this haze all you can see is blue.

“Your highness-!”

Loki presses your chest against the bed, leaving your pretty ass on display, purely his for the taking.

“You’re just a little mouse that can’t hurt anything, hmm? Just so innocent, and weak, and ready to be ravished.”

A cold, thick finger traces your wet folds, and you whimper, burying your face in the sheets as he tickles your hole until you’re shaking with need.

“Maybe I’ll take you back home with me… and make you my wife.”

Loki shoves his finger all the way in, knocking the wind out of you because you swear you can feel him in your tummy.

“Your- Your wife?” You ask, voice higher and breathier.

“Yes~” he mocks your airy voice. “My pretty wife, who won’t have to get her pretty hands dirty ever again, who I’ll take care of, and protect, and fuck every single night.”

Loki curls his finger, reaching that sensitive little part in your cunt that effectively leaves you a mumbling, drooling mess on him.

When he’s gotten you wet enough, he draws his finger back (to his cute little angel’s momentary dismay) and forces your thighs apart with his body, the head of his cock twitching against your folds.

Loki will forever remember the gasp you let out when you feel just how big he is.

“Do you want to be fully mine? Do you want me to fuck this little hole of yours with my cock until you’re screaming for me?”

You whine at his dirty words, slurring something that sounds like a yeah, and he knows he’s got you exactly where he wants you.

“Really?” he chuckles, fingering your little hole one more time to slicken your folds. “Do you think I’ll fit~?”

And with the dirty wet noises that tickle his ears as he sinks all the way in he gets his reply.

“Oh?” Amused, he runs an icy finger up and down your bare back. “She can take it, after all. What a good girl~”

Loki barely gets the praise out before the prettiest whimpers fall out of your mouth like sweet honey, your poor cunt clenching down on him as your voice gets higher and breathier by the minute.

“Please-” you hiccup, turning to look at him with those pretty teary eyes.

His vermillion eyes stare you down cruelly as he grinds his hips down into your ass, making your head fall onto the sheets as you slur out a moan.

His cock feels so heavy inside you and by the way he laughs quietly you know he knows just how big he is compared to you.

And the way he pins you down harder lets you know he loves it.

“Oh, you just feel so good around my cock,” Loki groans, pulling back and thrusting into your leaking little pussy.

Poor you, already sensitive beyond imagination as this handsome blue prince ruins any other man for you with the way his cock stretches you out better than anyone ever will.

Not that anyone else will get the chance to. Loki’s decided it: he will take you home to the palace and make you his wife, and everyone will bow before their new princess.

Loki can't resist you any longer. He beats your poor cunt like the beast he is until you're whimpering and bucking against him helplessly.

“Feels... weird..." you shudder and gasp, tears leaking from your eyes as he sinks deeper into you, his huge cock hitting all the good spots inside you as your pleasure takes over your senses.

“Oh, is she close? Is this perfect little cunt going to come all over me?”

Loki's dirty words make you whimper and nod dumbly.

“Yeah," you sob.

Loki laughs at how blissed out his little saviour is and stops,pulling out slowly and groaning when he hears the sinful squelching as your juices drip onto the sheets. He turns you on your back, pinning your wrists to your sides, and captures your lips in his as he sinks into you once more.

“I missed these pretty lips," he smirks into the kiss, taking you for himself.

“Y-You just kissed me a few minutes ago..." You sigh dazedly, though you love the attention he's giving you.

“Still can't get enough of you. You're just so sweet~" Loki licks your lips, thrusting harder and making you squeak and link your fingers through his.

“Say my name."

“Loki...”

“Gods," he throws his head back, almost moaning at how submissive you sound. “Surrender to me, darling."

His hands snake down to the back of your thighs, lifting them and pressing them to your chest, quickening his pace.

Your eyes scrunch up as you nearly scream in pleasure, wriggling away as if you could escape from him.

“Surrender to me, angel~" he grins, kissing your neck and marking you up. “A pretty angel like you deserves to be pampered like this every day. Imagine that? You'll never have to lift a finger, I'll do all the work, I'll do all the fucking.”

Loki accentuates that last word with a hard thrust into your hole, making your eyes blur over with tears as you mewl helplessly in the Jotun prince’s tight grip.

“Awh, don't cry," he teases, kissing your nose when he gets a sinfully great idea.

He stops his movements, making sure he's buried all the way inside you before he flattens his tongue against your soaked cheek and licks your tears away.

You gasp, stunned for a moment before you keen and twitch helplessly, whining loudly as he does the same to your other cheek.

And your poor little cunt just clenches down again.

Loki growls, his primal instincts taking over because you're his ideal mate and you're nothing like he's ever seen. The sounds in the room get filthier and filthier as he loses control and rams into your poor hole.

“What do you say, angel?" Loki asks, letting go of your wrist before his hand makes its way down to your clit, rubbing the little bud and making you scream and tremble in his arms. “Be my- fuck- be my bride? Be my pretty little princess?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, chest heaving as your eyes flutter shut.

“Are you close?"

“Mhm..."

“Cute little mouse," he chuckles, pressing open mouth kisses to your neck as he rubs your clit. “Let go for me now, angel."

It’s a sight from heaven as you orgasm all over him, soaking his cock with your juices and helplessly thumping your thighs against the bed because Loki won't stop thrusting in and out of you.

Loki growls, pinning you to the bed. He stills, and you gasp at the feeling of his warm, thick cum filling you up. It makes you feel even more full than you already do and it makes you dizzy with even more pleasure.

It becomes too much for your melting brain to handle when he pushes deeper into you and you gasp, attempting to kick him away.

A firm, cold hand grabs your ankle and spreads you wider, and you whine shyly when he grins at you with a cruel glint in his eyes.

“Stay with me, darling," Loki teases, gripping your hips possessively and holding you still on his cock so he can finish filling you up.

It feels like hours before he breathes again, but it's only been seconds for him, already wanting another round with you.

But the prince resists, setting your sore legs down slowly and carefully sliding out of your cunt.

You sigh in exhaustion, but your breaths falters in embarrassment when you feel just how much he pumped into you, dripping out of your twitching folds and onto the bed.

A tiny drop even lands on your ass and Loki chuckles at your wide eyes, leaning down to kiss your lips and whisper a dirty promise that he'll fuck you down there too next time.

“Next time?” you ask, lips parting.

“Yes," he teases. " I've decided it, you're never leaving my side, my guardian angel~”

And he scoops you into his side, letting you rest before he has a few more rounds with your pretty hole— then he'll take you back home to the palace and convince you to stay. He'll show you the library. He'll let you lose yourself in the royal gardens all day if you wish! As long as you return to his chambers each night and let him please you the way you deserve to be.

But he's fallen for you already and the whole kingdom will burn in a blaze of sapphire dust if anything or anyone ever keeps him away from you.

[hsdiaries]

dinner activities

boyfriend!harry x original character

choking, bits of praise, oral f receiving, p in v

I stood at the kitchen sink, washing the fresh produce I had gotten at the farmers market. Strawberries, cherries, apples, mangos. I wanted to make a giant fruit salad for when Harry got home. He had been working late nights in the studio all week, and today was the first night he would actually be home early. I wanted nothing more than to spend time with him, having him hold me. Being his girlfriend with his schedule was often tough, but he was worth every moment of it.

Once I had finished washing all the fruit I moved over to the kitchen island, pulling out our giant wooden cutting board and starting to cut up the fruit. I would pop some in my mouth as I went, enjoying the sweetness against my tongue. As I chopped I heard the front door open, Harry walking in. His hair was tied up in a bun, loose black shirt and grey sweats on his body. He was always so handsome to me this way. I loved a man in a suit, but with Harry, sweats and nothing else was his best outfit.

"Hello darling," he smiled at me, taking off his shoes before walking over to me. I turned and looked at him as he approached, he leaned in, kissing me gently. His lips moved on mine slowly, and though the kiss ended, his lips lingered on mine. I smiled against it, feeling him smile too.

"I've missed you today, Lacey, a lot." He whispered, pulling away and leaning back against the island. I couldn't help but notice how his arm muscles flexed as he held his weight up.

"I've been missing you this entire week if we are being honest." I smiled small, popping a piece of mango in my mouth. He opened his mouth at me causing me to giggle and I grabbed a piece, feeding it to him. He caught my hand as I did, licking the juice of fruit off my fingers.

I narrowed my eyes at him a bit, pulling my hand back, "Behave yourself, Harry Edward."

"I'm afraid I don't know how, Lace." He smirked, a devilish dimple on his left cheek.

I rolled my eyes, pushing away from the island to wash my hands before coming back to cut more fruit. As I did, he slipped behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder.

"Is this dinner?" He asked and I nodded.

"Yeah, I hope that's fine? I can also grill some salmon if you want." I said, chopping up some kiwi had left before it went bad.

"Mmm, no, this is fine darling." He said, his face turning and kissing my neck, slowly at first, the tip of his tongue teasing small licks on my neck, each met after with a kiss.

I inhaled sharply, my grip tightening on the knife as I licked my lips. He knew what he was doing and I knew what he wanted; but I wanted to make him work for it.

"How was the studio?" I said, holding my voice steady, though I could feel my stomach tighten.

He chuckled a bit, "Good actually. I finished two tracks. Just ten more to go."

"You got this baby," I said, as he reached over and grabbed a strawberry. He brought it up to my lips and I took a bite out of it. As I chewed it, I felt him run the strawberry down my neck, the juice spreading across it. His lips soon began sucking down my neck, his tongue licking up the mess he had made.

"Harry, what are you doing." I said, my grip loosening on the knife, my eyes fluttering close slightly.

"Mm, nothing." He breathed against my neck, his voice so low and deep, nipping at my neck gently, "Just enjoying my dinner."

I shook my head a bit, biting my lip, "It's not even ready, you're going to spoil it."

"Mm, I'm just helping with the preparation, that's all." He said, his voice still low. He popped the rest of the strawberry in his mouth, as his other hand began moving down my waistline, around to the front of my stomach. He moved it further down my front, his fingers teasing along my center, causing my legs to squeeze together, the knife dropping from my hand completely.

"Baby..." I whimpered as he began rolling his fingers over my clit.

"Keep making dinner Lacey." He said sternly, there was a lust in his voice and I nodded, swallowing. His dominance was always something that drove me insane, I loved it every bit of it. I swallowed, steadying myself and grabbing the knife. I took a deep breath and kept cutting the fruit, careful not to cut myself as I did.

His hand slid back up to my stomach only to push under the band of my leggings and underwear. His fingers pressed against my bare clit, my head falling back slightly at the feel. I bit my lip, looking back down at the fruit, concentrating on cutting it. As I did, I watched his hand come back to the cut fruit, picking up a piece of kiwi. I felt him move the kiwi over my earlobe, and down to the spot right behind it on my neck.

"Now you're just being plain mean." I said, clearing my throat. He knew these were my weak spots, he knew I would completely give in to anything.

He moved his face close to my ear, chuckling a bit, "I don't know what you mean. I think I'm being quite nice right now." He said, his teeth on my earlobe biting it softly, only for him to begin to suck on it, "And the best part of it is, none of this will taste as delicious as what I know is between your thighs." He said before moving to the spot on my neck, his fingers moving quicker on my clit, causing my to push my ass backwards onto him.

I could feel his hard cock the moment I did, and I decided, he wasn't the only one who could be a tease. I began to roll my hips back onto him, my ass moving up and down his hardening cock. When he bit down on the area behind my ear, I knew I was working him up.

"Bloody hell, Lacey." He said, as he placed his entire hand flat against my middle, pushing me back against him, "Fuck the fruit, come here." He quickly wrapped his hand tight around my neck, the kiwi he was still holding spreading all over my neck but I didn't care. I let go of the knife, bracing myself on the counter.

My head fell back onto his shoulder and soon his lips were on my neck. His tongue cleaning up the mess he made, his teeth dragging along my neck. His other hand moved so he could slip a finger in me, then another.

"Oh..fuck." I moaned out, my hips stilling moving on him; causing his fingers to sink deeper in me as I did. He curled his fingers inside me, pushing against my sweet spot, the spot he only knew the perfect location too.

"So wet for me, darling, god I can't wait to slip inside you, to fill you up." He groaned in my ear, his words causing my nerve endings to ignite everywhere, my body craving to be touched by him. His lips never left my neck, always coming back, and sucking hard on me. Peppering kisses all along the length of it.

"I want you to fuck me, Harry." I moaned out, my grip tightening on the counter, his fingers moving in and out of me as I grind my body on them. I was going to come, it wasn't go to take much to get me there in this position.

He dragged his hand down from my neck, over my breasts, palming at them and further spreading the kiwi over my white tank and I didn't care. He was making me a mess both physically and mentally. His hand kept moving down my body, gripping tightly at my skin, moving down to my middle, pushing my leggings and underwear down. He grabbed on tight to the band so he could push them down, lowering them to my mid-thigh. He brought his hand to my clit, moving quick circles over it, causing my movements on him to stop.

"Har-Harry, oh my god..." I reached back, grabbing onto him for support, "Baby..ba..uh...I'm going to come. Plea—" he didn't stop moving in and out of me, his fingers rolling on my clit so deliciously.

"Come for me darling, come for me and I'll fuck you right after, come for me." He purred in my ear, motivating me. I could feel my core tightening and the more I thought about him slipping his length inside of me the closer I got to my high.

I turned my face to him, our eyes locking and soon our lips were on each others, his tongue finding mine, running along it. This was all I needed, I melted instantly, coming all over his fingers. My legs squeezed shut, my mouth off of his, hanging open, no sound coming from me. He moved his fingers from my clit, still moving his fingers in me as I rode out my high.

"Oh...oh that felt so good babe, oh..." I finally chuckled out, causing him to laugh a bit and kiss my cheek.

"And to think, I'm not even done," he said, removing his fingers from inside me. He placed both his hands on my hips, sliding them up my body, bringing my tank with them, slipping it over my head. He turned me around pushing the fruit and the cutting board to the side lifting me up in the counter. He grabbed the knife, turning around and throwing it in the sink.

He stepped back a bit, licking his lips and taking me in. He reached back, pulling on the collar of his shirt and slipping it over his head. As he did, I unhooked my bra, slipping it off of me and throwing it to the side. I locked eyes with him as he unbuttoned his pants, biting my lip and breaking eye contact to face the fruit. I reached over and grabbed a strawberry, turning back to face him as I bit into it. I ran the fleshy, wet fruit along my lips, running it down my neck. I trailed it over my nipples, watching as he smirked at me. By now he was just as naked as me, and he moved toward me, his lips meeting mine. Kissing me hungrily, sucking in my lower lip, biting it and claiming it as his own.

His lips began to wander down my neck, following the trail I had mapped out for him with the strawberry, his tongue moving over my nipples, sucking on them as his hands held my breasts up to his mouth. He kept trailing a path down my body with his mouth, ending at my middle, his tongue lapping over my folds, taking in all my wetness, before settling on my clit. He rolled his tongue on it, and I instinctively reached down, I pulled on the elastic holding back his long hair, pulling it until his hair was freed. He groaned, because I wasn't gentle and I couldn’t help but chuckle. I wrapped my hand in his hair, my fingers tangling in it, pushing him hard against me. I moved my middle against his tongue, my head falling back, taking in every bit of pleasure I was feeling because of it. I felt greedy, but only for a moment.

"Mmm, oh god I could fuck your mouth all night," I moaned, his chuckle vibrating against me causing me to laugh as well. He pulled away from my middle and I hated how much stronger he was than me that he was able to do this.

He stood up straight, leaning forward and kissing me, "You're a spoiled brat tonight."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "All you have to do is ask." I said, reaching down between us and taking his length in my hand, running up and down it. I stopped only to spit on my hand, to add more slick.

I moved over his tip, running my palm over it like I knew he liked, "I'll never pass up a chance to make you feel good baby, never pass up a chance to remind you how much I love you."

I bit my lip at him and he leaned his forehead down on mine, "God, I love you, Lacey." He pushed down, and kissed me deeply. His hand reaching up and choking me as he did, he pushed my head back moving his lips from mine, locking eyes with me, "I love you so damn much." He said, my hand moving up and down his length, I could feel his veins on his cock pulse, and he bit his lip, letting go of my neck to reach down and remove my hand from his length.

"I don't want to come that way," he said, moving to remove my leggings from me completely. He picked me up in his arms, bringing me back down to the floor and turning me back around, bending me over the kitchen island, "I want to come like this."

He pushed his length into me, giving me no mercy. No moment to adjust. He rocked his hips against me, moving in and out of me. His strokes were long and hard, his fingers digging into my hips as he did.

"God, you feel so fucking good baby, fuck Lacey." He said, his pace picking up. He reached down and lifted my right leg up on the counter, allowing him deeper in me, and I yelled out in pleasure. I squeezed against his length, feeling every bit of him fill me up.

"Fuck, Harry. Oh fuck baby...."

"Is that good for you darling, huh? Tell me how good I feel baby." He groaned, his hand wrapping around my waist, moving up to cup my breast, palming at them as he pulled me against him.

"So fucking good, Har..Harry, oh..." I moaned, turning to look at him, leaning up and kissing him messily. We kissed and moaned against each others lips. I couldn't keep my eyes from rolling back into my head. He felt so damn good, his movements were so aggressive, so sure of what they were doing.

"Oh, Lace...I don't think I can...fu-oh you feel so fucking good. Bloody hell." He groaned, leaning his head down and biting at my shoulder.

His movements were becoming sloppy, he was clinging onto me tighter, as if holding on for dear life.

"I'll come with you baby, keep going please." I said, using my leg to help me move up and down his length. He hissed as I began my movements, helping me move on him, holding my hips.

"Lacey...oh baby. That's it, oh fuck me like that. Oh...fucks sake, I'm going to com—me too, I'm coming Harry...I'm.." I interrupted, as we both came together. I fell back against his body as he fell forward on mine. I chuckled, riding out my high. He laced kisses along my back, bringing small chills along my body. He attempted to pull out and I squeezed against him.

"Fucks sakes woman, you're going to murder me." He said and I giggled, relaxing so he could pull out. We both groaned at the sensation, and he continued to place kisses along my back, "I love you, Lace."

"I love you, too."

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

✮⋆˙ another day of sun; leo valdez x reader blurb

content: leo valdez x reader blurb warning: angst but then fluff but then ig angst again??? this one a rollercoaster fo sho author's note: psssst @ivyy-covered-walls come cry over this one. also...I LOVE IT MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF SO SO GOOD (if yall dont agree, say nothing bc i will cut a bitch frfr) (jkjk i don't promote violence...except when i do)

ba-ba-da-ba, da-ba-da-ba ba-ba-da-ba, da-ba-da-ba

leo knew you were gonna make it big. you were just that kinda girl, one that drew people in and you were just so so full of love that you wanted to spread to others. leo was grateful every time you choose to spread that love over him...but he knew he was running on borrowed time. every time you guys went to the movies or saw a band preforming at a farmers market, he could feel the itch in you to join them. to make it far, to see your name in lights, and to have people waiting hours to catch just a glimpse of you. he knew you were gonna leave - most importantly, leave him behind.

i think about that day i left him at a greyhound station west of santa fé we were seventeen, but he was sweet and it was true still i did what i had to do 'cause i just knew

you never ever wanted to hurt leo, really, you didn't. if you could take him with you, stuffed inside your suitcase, you would in a heartbeat. he was the only boy you'd ever loved and you were certain you'd ever love again. but, when you received the offer to internship in los angeles under some big acting firm...it was kind of hard to say no. and it didn't help that leo was encouraging you to go, a heartbroken but motivating smile on his lips. you clung to him every remaining moment, wanting to cherish your now limited time. leo didn't mind, pressing his lips to any corner of skin he could reach.

summer sunday nights we'd sink into our seats right as they dimmed out all the lights a technicolor world made out of music and machine it called me to be on that screen and live inside each scene

and then the dreaded day came. leo walked you to the train station, carrying your suitcase and backpack like a gentleman. what a boy to leave behind, you thought, your heart clenching and mind urging you to stay, just stay. but he was already pulling you into a goodbye hug, clutching you so firmly to his chest that you worried you'd merge into one person. and then you pressed your lips to leo's, salty tears and muttered apologies being the only separators from time to time. then the train came rushing by, sweeping both of your hair into to crazy directions and slightly pulling the pair towards the train with it's sweeping breeze. leo whispered sweet nothings into your ear, promises to watch every movie and to love you until his heart stops beating. you pressed kisses to his clothed shoulder at every promise, every promise you'd break by stepping onto the train. you waited until the very last moment, the conductor glaring at you as he shouted the very last calls for los angeles. you squeezed leo's hand so hard, you thought you'd crush his bones to dust, shooting up and pressing a kiss so firm and love filled to his cheek. and then you were sweeping away into the train, looking over your shoulder and waving out the window of your seat every moment you could.

and when the train started to move, leo copied, racing to keep up with the train. running to keep you in view for even just a few more moments. you were laughing but leo couldn't hear it anymore through the glass - he worried he'd never hear it again. he ran until the end of the platform, nearly slamming into it as the train continued to rush past, continued to steal his girl away from him. and he stayed there, long after the train was nothing more than a spec in the distance. he would've stayed there forever, waiting for you to come back, but the ticket seller told him to get lost so he could close up for the night.

without a nickel to my name hopped a bus, here i came could be brave or just insane we'll have to see

and years later, leo'd drag piper and jason with him to the movie theaters. he'd been yapping about this movie for months, piper growing suspicious that he had alter motives. but he'd always just smile in a sort of nostalgic way and simple say he liked the actress. and she was beautiful and the kind of girl that drew people in, which was hard to find in people their age! following a deep dive, piper discovered they'd come the same hometown, which she figured to be his true reason. who wouldn't want to see someone like you succeed? but, as they took their seats and piper leaned over to ask for the popcorn, she couldn't help but notice the glistening of tears in his eyes as he stared up at the girl, finally on the big screen. just like she always dreamed. just like he always dreamed for her.

'cause maybe in that sleepy town he'll sit one day, the lights are down he'll see my face and think of how he used to know me

then, as the movie came to end and leo stood up and gave a stand ovation to an empty theater, his clapping came a halt as the credits began to roll. his heart thudded and he caught himself on the seats in front of them, as his knees buckled and gave out on him. there, bold and proudly it read;

to my dear heart, my first supporter and first and final love. i do it all for and because of you. come find me, for i am waiting for you, just like we promised all those years ago waiting for that train. take me home, leo valdez.

[thought--bubble]

The Monster in Your Fairytale

Old South AU Aemond X (Southern Belle Reader)

Warnings after the cut

Modern Aemond Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners by @arcielee

A/N: I'm grouping this with Modern Aemond because i don't want to create anymore masterlists and it isn't canon Aemond haha.

Warnings:: manipulation, dubcon, Breeding kink, smut, virginity loss, attempt at baby trapping.

Aemond Targaryen was sought after in your small rural town. The only single man left of the Targaryens other than his young brother Daeron, who was too young to marry.

The Targaryens were the most well-off family in the area. They came from old money. Their sprawling mansion and vast acreage of land showcased their wealth.

Aemond, being a young Batchelor who stood to inherit a third of his fathers wealth, was viewed as a great prize for many of the young, unmarried woman in your small town. The accident he suffered as a child leaving him with only one eye did nothing to dampen the flames of his popularity. After all, out here money was king.

Yet somehow, even with a plethora of young unmarried women swirling around him. That one beautiful eye set its sights on you

You were your fathers pride and joy. His sunshine he called you. You weren't the smartest girl around, but gosh, were you sweet. If anyone were to ask around, your small rural community, they would say your giggle was contagious and your smile even more so.

Your innocence and your trusting nature are exactly what reeled him in. What a pretty little silly wife you would make him. He imagined you popping out, baby, after silver haired baby laughing and giggling, never a care in the world, and in him, it awoke a hunger, a gnawing need to have you.

So Aemond decided he would do this the right way. Get to know you and make you fall in love with him. Who wouldn't fall in love with him? Every single girl in town wanted him, why wouldn't you?

So he approached you at the local farmers market. A place he would usually never be. The Targaryens had house servants for that kind of thing. Yet he came knowing you would be there, selling your father's wares. A bright smile on your face and that perfectly plump bosom pressing tightly against the fabric of your cheaply made dress.

He looked sharp. A nice pair of trousers with a fitted top, the two highest buttons left open.

"Give her something to gawk at," he thinks to himself as he fixes his shirt. He spots you at your usual table, pointing at various fruits and vegetables, trying to make a sale. Not that making a sale was difficult for you. You could sell someone air with just a smile and a suggestion.

He walks up to your fruit stand cockily, quickly snatching an apple from one of the baskets and tossing it in the air.

"Macintosh. Best you'll find for a long ways" You smile at him with that perfect little smile, your eyes wrinkling around the corners.

"Hmmmm." He gently places the apple back in the basket. "I'm looking for..... something sweeter"

"Oh! Well, we have strawberries! Those are mighty sweet. " You lower your voice to a near whisper." I could even let ya try one if you promise not to tell Daddy." You wink at him and hold up the smallest of strawberries in your delicate hand.

Aemond can feel a stirring in his pants he tries very hard to ignore. "Love to" instead of taking the strawberry from you, he leans forward and bites into it while it is snuggled in tight between your fingers. His lips graze your fingertips, and then you do it. You giggle. That addicting giggle.

What went from a gentle stirring in his trousers had now evolved into a throbbing as he wiped the juices from the strawberry off his chin.

You lean forward towards him. "juicey nough for ya?"

"Hmmmm" Aemond chuckles. "Always like the ones that gush"

"Then perfect! How much do you wanna buy?" You take out one of your tiny baskets ready to fill it with strawberries.

"Fill the basket," he says nonchalantly.

"Oh! That's an awful lot of strawberries, sir. That could get quite pricey. " You giggle again, causing the throbbing in his trousers to intensify.

He smiles at you and laughs while shaking his head, "As if she doesn't know who I am," he thinks to himself.

You fill the basket completely. Pride swells in your chest, knowing you just sold a good chunk of the strawberries you had brought to market, your daddy will be so proud, and the money will help.

You hand him his basket of strawberries and give him your best smile.

"A pretty girl like you should be married at this age..... yet from what I understand you are not." Aemond muses biting into another strawberry.

"Oh, Daddy has turned down all suitors. Doesn't think I'm ready." You blush slightly in embarrassment. Your father loved you. So much in fact that he was afraid that with your simple and caring persona, you would be easily controlled and abused. A thought that terrified him.

Hearing that your father has turned down, all suitors thus far does not deter Aemond in the slightest. He is a Targaryen. Your father would beg for him to court you sooner than he would turn him down.

So the next morning, he does what any good gentleman should do and goes to your father requesting permission to court you and is absolutely shocked when your father declines.

"My sunshine is a special girl," he had said. " She isn't ready for that kind of thing, but I am flattered by your interest"

Aemond leaves the small farmhouse baffled but ultimately decides that your father will not stop him from having what he wants. You are indeed a special girl and you will be his special girl whatever the cost.

So, he returns to the farmers market every week. Sometimes with flowers, other times a small gift, a necklace, a bracelet every time trying to interest you in joining him for a walk.

Each time, you turn him down.

"Daddy wouldn't like that." Your sweet voice invades his senses, but after six weeks of being denied, Aemond has decided he will no longer take no for answer, so he presses on.

"Your father doesn't need to know sweetness. I will not be untoward. I only wish to know you more. All the town talks of your sweet smile, but what of what's behind that smile? That is what I wish to know. " Aemond gives you his best look of caring and gentleness. "I will not lie. My feelings have been hurt by this constant declination of simple friendship"

Aemond has gotten to know you so well. You are sweet to a fault, and the only way he can get you to go against your father's wishes is to make you believe that you are being cruel.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Aemond! I'm not trying to hurt you! Of course I'm not. " Your eyes are glassy as you look at him with sympathy.

"Got her," he thinks to himself.

"I guess one simple friendly walk won't hurt."

So after you pack up your wares for the day, he takes you on a walk. He asks you questions while he pretends to listen to the answers, the buzzing inside his head, making it hard to concentrate.

The walk is exactly as he described it. A friendly walk where you chat and enjoy the scenery, and every week that walk gets just a bit longer and a bit deeper into the woods.

You become more and more comfortable with the man you now consider to be one of your closest friends, and on a warm summer evening, he walks you into the woods the furthest he has walked you yet.

When the two of you stumble upon a meadow, he feigns surprise.

"Well, isn't this beautiful?" He looks down at you, watching you look around the meadow in wide-eyed wonder.

"Oh, Aemond, It's beautiful!" You happily exclaim, throwing your arms around him excitedly.

"Come." He takes your hand and leads you out into the tall grass of the meadow before he drops down to lay in the grass.

You watch him laying for a minute quizzically. "Aemond! What are you doing? You will get your clothes all dirty!" You reach for his hand to yank him up, but instead, he yanks you down on top of him.

"The view is so pretty from here." He looks up at you, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Oh gosh, I'm squishing you!" You attempt to get up, but Aemond sits up quickly, pulling you completely in his lap, your thighs on either side of his hips.

"A little thing like you? Squishing me? Preposterous. " He nuzzles his nose into your chin, eliciting a giggle.

"You're not so big yourself." You grip his waist and squeeze to accentuate your case.

"You'd be surprised, sweetness." He places gentle kisses along your jaw. "At how big I can get," He wraps his arms around your back, pulling your chest flush to his.

"Oh, Aemond......" Your voice is unsteady. "I don't think Daddy would like this"

"He doesn't need to know.." He trails kisses down your neck."Besides, every once in a while, you should do something you like. No matter what others think"

He watches your face contort in thought as you think over his words. His patience growing thinner and thinner. He grips your hips, gently grinding your heat on his lap.

"Indulge me," He whispers, "For just a little while"

You feel a build-up of heat curling up in your lower stomach and find it hard to say no to that eye that looks at you pleading.

"Just a little while longer, sweetness," Aemond pants heavily into the crevice of your neck.

Your hips start to grind against him, putting more pressure on that sweet nerve between your legs.

"Such a bad girl for me," Aemond growls as he nips at your bottom lip, gently pulling at it.

"I'm still a good girl, aren't i?" You worriedly ask. It's so important to you that you are a good girl.

"Mmmm.. yes, of course. " Aemond huffs between labored breathes. He leans back from you slightly to unbutton his trousers.

"Aemond?" You watch as his hands move beneath you, making quick work of the fabric as he pulls his hardened cock out and into his hand.

"Shhhh sweetness." He pumps himself with one hand as he cups your cheek in the other. "I've got you, I'll take care of you"

Aemond pushes up your dress and pushes open the split between your drawers, his breathing getting heavier with each touch. He runs his hand along your slick folds and smiles.

"You're all ready for me, sweetness." He gently bites at your chin, and a rush of warmth swirls in your stomach as he brings his finger to rub at your pearl in quick circles.

"A-Aemond!" You feel completely overwhelmed as that warmth in your stomach seems to be building, Your jaw is slack, and your breathing is forced.

"I've got you. Shhhhh... I've got you, " Aemond whispers to you as he continues to rub on your nub. As the pressure in your stomach continues to build, you can feel Aemonds' other hand on your hip, pushing you down as you feel immense pressure.

"Ah, Aemond!" You squeal the feeling of being split open is intense, and you now know what is happening.

"It's ok, sweetness, it's ok." He continues to rub your nub with his thumb as he pushes you further and further down his shaft.

"Fuck..." Aemond groans and closes his eye. "Oh sweetness, you're so perfect"

"Ahh, ahh." You hiss, the stretching is erotic and uncomfortable at the same time. A fullness that feels good and a stinging that hurts.

"Just a little further... Oh yes, " He groans loudly as your ass is flush against his thighs. "There you are." He pulls your face down towards him and kisses you with a passion you had only read about in stories.

you kiss him back while intermittently panting into his mouth. This sensation, this mix of pain and pleasure, was like nothing you had ever experienced.

He grasps at your hips and guides you to grind against his lap.

"See? You're still a good girl." He pants,"My good girl"

"Your good girl, Your good girl." You chant like a prayer as his movements intensify.

Aemond buries his face in your chest as he maneuvers you on his lap. Like a rag doll he fucks into you taking what he has long desired.

"Cum for me pretty girl" He begs as he grinds you against him faster his thighs shaking with the intensity.

You moan and pant loudly that feeling in your bottom stomach rising like it is going to spill over and when it does and your eyes roll back into your head Aemond loses all control.

He tightly squeezes your hips, bringing you down upon him with force. "Gonna fill you up." He grunts."Make you mine, " he slams you down harder and tilts his head back. "I want you full of me." He loudly makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper.

"Ask me for it," he demands

Your brain is so foggy from your orgasm and the momentum of his thrusts that you stare at him blankly.

"Ask me to fill you." He grunts, and his face contorts. He looks almost like he is in pain. "Please, sweetness,"

"Oh please fill me Aemond Please" You coo.

He pulls you down roughly twice more before spilling into you with a loud groan, laying his back down on the grass as he slowly continues to push himself into you, riding out his orgasm.

Aemond lays back with a smile on his face. Your father would have no choice but to marry you to him now. The shame of being an unwed mother in a town like this would be unbearable, and if somehow he didn't get you pregnant this time?

Well, there was always next time.

To be added to taglist click here

[keravnous]

wanna go where the girls are young and dumb? ; christoph waltz x fem!reader (smut, 18+)

being c. waltz's sugarbaby - the playlist

Your mother dragged you along to southern France for the summertime. Thus, you are forced to spend your spring break with your stepdad.

warnings: stepdad!christoph, lowkey sugardaddy!christoph, age gap (the reader is in her early 20s, christoph is in his 50s), finally putting my native language to good use, daddy kink, light choking, power play, riding/reverse cowgirl, fingering, pet names, name calling, unprotected sex, slight cumplay and breeding, multiple orgasms, viagra (unrealistic effects), controlling/possessive!christoph, bratty!reader, christoph's a little dark in this so heed the warning, he really just wants to wreck you he's been waiting long enough

translations: Liebes - love; Na, sieh mal einer an wer uns heute noch mit ihrer Anwesenheit beehrt - Well, someone's seen fit to grace us with their presence; Oh, das machen wir aber nicht - Oh, we won't do that, won't we

word count: 11,4k

choosing a gif for this was really just playing what's my favourite waltz era

the title is from the song young & dumb by cigarettes after sex

thank you v for not giving up on me <3

"Na, sieh mal einer an, wer uns heute noch mit ihrer Anwesenheit beehrt. Where have you been?", your stepdad's voice is hard enough to cut steel and you freeze dead in your tracks, white heels dangling from your hand. Well, fuck - so much for sneaking back in quietly.

The huge wooden doors to the living room are opened - and you can see Christoph sitting on the sofa facing the lobby, in the shadows of the room, dimly lit by candles. Your feet are pressing against the polished marble, warm skin on cool stone. It's still hot outside, only a small breeze ruffling the leaves of the trees and rolling in through the opened windows, toying gently with the hem of your nearly see-through, white linen dress.

This place could easily be heaven on earth - the old, 18th century countryside bastide with its lush citrus and olive trees, near a cliff at the water and a sleepy, small town nearby - weren't it for the devil himself.

Your vision zeroes in on him - your mother's boyfriend and soon to be husband - and you try your best to glare into the dim abyss of the barely lit living room.

"Why do you care?", you spit, ready to storm upstairs. You just want some peaceful silence, not whatever the fuck he's on about.

And, like he can sense what you are about to do, like he sees the way your calf-muscles twitch, he says softly: "Don't you dare moving an inch, Liebes." His velvety voice drips with acid honey; a threat in candy-wrappers. A frost descends with his voice, making you shiver.

"I am not -"

"Where have you been?", Christoph asks again, voice menacingly calm. He sounds like he knows.

Like he knows, that you have been out to get laid.

You had met a pretty, young man and shared a few flirtatious looks with him at the farmer's market just yesterday. Your French was sufficient to get the necessities across and thus, he was quick to grasp that you wanted to fuck. Sneaking out of the house around 10 you rode your bike to his place, only to find out that what he had to offer in looks - long, dark, and curly hair and eyes like the ocean - he lacked in experience. He had been clumsy and after he tried to finger you for what seemed to be an eternity of aimless thrusting and unpassionate rubbing, you had told him to fuck off and drove back home. You just want to go upstairs, get yourself off, shower and go to sleep.

But you can't just say that, can you? And thus, you blink, unnerved, hissing: "You are not my fucking father."

You wish you could see his face, see his reaction, but it is hidden by flickering shadows. You decide that tonight's not the night to be the pawn in one of his strange games. Thus, you suck in a deep breath, before eventually sighing: "I am going upstairs. Good night."

"Ah ah ah", he scolds and you can see him taking a drag of his cigarette, the tip of it gleaming before he is exhaling smoke that curls into the air, the thick mist illuminated by the flickering glow of the candles, "Is that a way to speak to the man who keeps you in college?"

"I am not having this conversation right now."

"But I will", he raises his eyebrows and you feel glued to the spot, helpless.

Something prevents you from just leaving. You do not know what it is, but you recall a few encounters in which he had a similar effect on you - where he intimidated you into submission. Another shiver crawls up your spine at the thought.

"Step inside here for a moment, please", and as you don't move, his voice turns cold - like you are in real fucking trouble, "I won't be asking you again."

Making a great show out of your reluctant-ness, you groan, rolling your eyes, before you unwillingly drop your shoes onto the marble. Entering the living room, you sigh audibly, throwing your head back a little in exasperation, coming to a halt only a few steps into the room.

Christoph seems bored by your behaviour, deliberately stomps his cigarette out in the antique ashtray before crossing his arms. He's wearing linen, too - in a fruitless attempt to combat the heat - the first few buttons of his shirt opened. You can see the greying chest hair peeking through from where you are standing, dusted on his skin like silver threads.

You are annoyed - annoyed by the pretty young Frenchman who turned out to be an absolute disastrous disappointment, annoyed by being stuck here in the middle of nowhere, annoyed by the heat, annoyed by Christoph looking at you the way he does, annoyed by the way his strict gaze has your stomach tingling.

Annoyed by how pretty he looks in the golden candle light.

The thought hits you like a chair to the head and you sway a little, hands gripping the edges of the armchair in front of you. You swallow, trying to fight the thought. The light toys with his features, has his eyes gleaming and the grey hair on his temples looking like fluid silver.

You can feel his gaze roaming your body, burning and heavy, as his eyes wander up and down - taking in both, your curves, and your underwear visible through the white linen.

"Come closer."

You do not want to. You want to hide behind the chair, safe from the confusing mind games he likes to play.

But you don't. Instead, like a puppet on his strings, you take two steps forward and into the room, standing there uselessly. Disarmed, your only weapon left is your tongue.

"What the fuck do you want?", it comes out rude, brash. Christoph chuckles, unimpressed. For a second, you two just stare each other - a silent battle of authority and obstreperousness.

"Closer", is all he says, with the steadiness of a victory.

"I don't have time for this", your voice breaks, irritated and a little unsteady around the edges. Christoph looks at you, unfazed but something small changes. It's in his eyes, something that grows stern and unrelenting. If your little display of brattiness a few minutes earlier was a joke to him, your behaviour now was an insult.

And thus, a little intimidated by him, you comply, carefully taking a few steps forward until only a couple long strides part the two of you.

It does not seem to satisfy him.

"Closer."

You furrow your brows and close the gap, mere inches between your and his knee. He looks up at you, eyes cold.

"That's it. Sit", you blink dumbly as Christoph pats his thigh, his tone light in an odd, uncanny contrast to the way he looks at you.

Alright, no. Absolutely not.

You aren't sure if he's joking. It must be a sick joke. Maybe he finds it funny: his adult stepdaughter sitting on his lap. You do not move.

You are certain, he will break any second - for Christ's sake, he's an actor - he's just joking. He will break. His lips will curl up any second now --

Looking at his serious face, stern gaze boring deep deep into your soul, you grow certain that he is indeed serious. Very serious.

You gulp. "I am not doing this. This is so fucking inappropriate."

"And I am not discussing this. Sit."

God knows, Christoph isn't - never was - very patient. And you can feel it, too; he oozes with it, the way his gaze grows cold as ice and you nearly stumble over your own feet as your body gives in. He is fucking intimidating, especially when the façade of the European gentleman crumbles, drops, like it does right now - leaves you wondering, what he is capable of. And you do not want to find out. Thus, your brain barely has enough time to fight it or to reason with you, you step closer and sink down on his lap. You legs dangle over his left knee while you avoid his gaze.

Let's get this fucking over with then.

"There you go, that wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

"N-no", you shake your head, feeling the heat of his body radiating through both of your linen clothes. It should feel odd, and maybe it does just a little, sitting on your fucking stepfather's lap like this, but -- it also doesn't feel that bad. It is strangely comforting, with his rich, warm scent now wrapping you in. You have always liked his perfume - a subtle wooden scent, of vetiver and a subtle splash of mint. Sublime, sophisticated.

One of his slender, large hands wraps around your hips, holds you in place, the other gently takes your hand, fingers brushing over yours.

"I -- where's my mother?", you hold onto it like a lifeline.

"Asleep." And there it goes - the lifeline slips out of your hands and you drown in the dark, deep sea that is his presence, all light out of reach as you sink deeper, nothing else remaining but him. Still, you can't help but notice that his voice sounds cold, distant, and you wonder why.

You recall something your mother had told you just days before the flight to southern France. Her voice echoes in your skull as you remember sitting in her spacious living room, picking out a few dresses for her to wear on vacation. "He's not even touching me anymore, honey, I don't know -" - "Ew, Mom! I don't wanna know, my god!"

You wonder, if their little paradise is already crumbling, turning ugly around the edges, and a part of you wishes for it to be true. You want him gone. But there's also a small voice in the back of your head that panics at the thought. You like your life like this - you can't deny the fact that he keeps you afloat financially, that whatever you want or need - you don't even have to ask for it, he just buys it. Like it's nothing. It's comfortable and easy and you would most likely miss it.

No - you are certain you would. Life's never been that easy for you.

It's fucked up, really. You still remember meeting him, and in the beginning, you got along just fine. Blimey, even.

Getting to know him started off well. Your mother had met him at the theatre while he had been working there and despite her being shy around him, he quickly convinced her to Just try it. The first time you had met Christoph in person was at a dinner at your mother's place during Christmas break and he had been so charming, so soft and well-spoken that he had made you feel right at ease, even though you were sitting across someone so familiar with the limelight and the high society of Hollywood.

It had been nice. You found out that he was recently divorced, with children around your age. You told him about college and your future goals. It had been homely and down to earth, just nice.

And thus, you didn't think much of it as last year's spring break rolled around, returning to your childhood and now their part time-shared Los Angeles home, as he was knocking on the door of your old teenage bedroom. "It's just a little something I got you - a special gift for my new stepdaughter, perhaps? The sale's lady said it would be - quite fitting - for a young woman your age." And Christoph had been so so charming that you didn't think much of it, as you unwrapped the large box.

Inside had been a set of lingerie, made of fine, white lace with frills. The soft fabric had felt and looked expensive and you had gasped - the set so pretty that for a short while, you had forgotten how inappropriate it was for him to gift you such things.

As you finally, after returning to your dorm and showing the gift to your roommate ("Girl, that's just creepy."), came to realize just how wrong it was, a sleek beige box awaited you on your bed one night in the dorm as you returned from your classes. Inside had been a Chanel dress, all pale-pink, flowers and bows ("Shit, that one's kind of pretty").

Christoph had kept sending you gifts: jewellery, dresses, lingerie. You dutifully called every single time and thanked him and he usually only chuckled, stating that it was nothing. You know you should have told your mother. It felt off and you knew that it was, too.

But you just didn't.

Unbeknownst to you, he was testing the waters. Every time you'd see him from then on, he would put you through agonizingly long inquiries about what you did on campus, who you were seeing. He would make it painfully obvious that he was checking your credit card billings and whenever there was something out of the ordinary, he would bring it up casually in the following conversation.

You remember going out with some guy from your lecture, meeting at a place you had never been at before. The date had gone horrible and to not lead him on, you had paid for yourself - even though he insisted otherwise. Christoph had enjoyed seeing you squirm, bathed in your shame and uneasiness, as he asked you if the drinks were as horrible as he believed them to be.

That's when the tables kind of turned. You figured that he was just a rich and controlling asshole that had barged into your life, had belittled you and had ruined your fucking peace. Maybe he was an award-winning actor but to you, that didn't matter.

You were fucking glad, that he kept the relationship to you mother out of the public eye. You didn't even want to imagine the media attention. You didn't even want to imagine what he had to say about you - "My stepdaughter? Oh, she's just whoring about, that unthankful little girl, don't you worry about her."

His mellow voice rips you out of your memory. "So, what are we doing about you breaking my rules tonight?"

You nearly burst out a laugh - you are in your twenties; you are allowed to do whatever the fuck you want. His made up, bullshit rules do not apply to you - quite frankly, up until now, they did not even fucking exist to you. He never told you there were any in the first place.

Not that you would have cared, anyways.

"You have no authority over me", you say, but doesn't come out half as cool as you wanted it to. Christoph's lips curls into a smile, gaze wandering over your face. His fingers brush over yours and then he leans in, voice low:

"We both know, that is not what this is about."

Something in your stomach tingles and you want to rip it out with both hands. "What-", you whisper, seriously confused.

"I have seen what little - well, shall we call them movies, darling? - you watch when you're alone", he purrs and then smiles, all dimples and small lines around his eyes, flashes his white teeth at you. A shiver runs down your spine.

You blink dumbly. What? Jesus Christ, please no - oh no. Oh shit.

Mortification burns high on your cheeks; your skin grows warm and red with it. You immediately know what he's talking about and his invasion of your privacy has your head swimming.

"You checked my fucking browser history?", you blurt out.

"Checked", he huffs, seemingly amused, "If you leave your phone laying around unlocked--" Christoph shrugs, gestures helplessly as if he's trying to justify eating ownerless chocolates.

You can feel your gut sinking. "Y-you--", you can't help but wonder how much he's seen, what exactly he's seen. You can't help your mind from wandering there - wandering to what he thought, if he liked what he saw. Stop it, fucking stop it.

"I--?", Christoph smiles smugly, raising an eyebrow.

You wonder if he saw the countless videos of older men fucking younger women, making them beg and cry, teaching them manners. You remember one porn you have watched plenty of times - the one of a greying man tossing a young woman around, ripping her underwear apart, slapping her face and tits and railing her until she was crying, gripping her hair and spitting in her face.

You remember how deep you had plunged your fingers into your tight cunt, squeezing around them at the thought of an eloquent and handsome older man railing you until you couldn't walk, having his way with you for his pleasure, and his alone. Every single time you watched that one porn you came hard, harder than the time before, draining your sheets with your squirt until it ran down your legs. As fucked up as it is, just the memory of it has your pussy aching right in this moment, wetness pooling between your legs.

Shame crawls up your spine at the thought that he knows - that he has seen the frequency of it popping up in your browsing history. Maybe he had even clicked on it, watched it a little, indulged in your secret little fantasy. The thought has your cheeks burning red with humiliation, but there's also something else, something primal clawing at your insides, making your lower stomach tingle.

"This is none of your business", your voice is small and quiet, your eyes avoiding his drilling gaze.

"Oh, but what if it is?", Christoph's eyes gleam mischievously.

"Excuse me?", you blurt out, heart racing in your chest.

"Mh well", he weighs his head from one side to the other a little, as if he's carefully considering a thought, "You know, if you wanted what you saw in those little movies you could've just asked me?"

He says it so nonchalantly, as if he's talking about buying some milk. You blink, completely speechless.

"Do you want to know why? Why you could've just asked me?", and you nod, head swimming a little, "Because I do not want some dirt-poor, hicktown-boy touching what is mine."

Your breath hitches, and he shrugs. "There's no need for you to compensate your fantasies elsewhere any longer, Liebes, hm?", his voice is soft, dark and deep, like soft silk wrapping you in, "I can give you exactly what you crave."

It feels like your brain has just blown a fuse, blinking at him dumbly. His lips tilt up, one of his hands brushing over your knee. "You just have to say it, darling. Just say the word", and you feel like drowning in the grey sky of his eyes, loins tingling, "I can make you feel good, better than the young men can."

You swallow, excitement bubbling up in your stomach, hitching your breath. It's not like you haven't thought about it, about him - the memory buried deep, deep in the darkest corner of your brain.

You should say no. This is not okay, it will hurt your mother. It's not right. It is inappropriate, at best.

But you are also so fucking horny still, your whole body aching for a touch and the way he looks at you - your fucking stepdad who's a full-blown, silvery 30 years older than you - has tingles spreading through your limbs, fire spreading in your loins. Fuck it.

"Y-yes", you whisper instead of doing the right thing - the spirit willing but the flesh weak -,"Yes, please."

And then, he leans in.

Christoph's kiss is soft and firm, and goosebumps roll over your skin at the thought that it doesn't feel foreign or odd, like if it isn't the first time, he kissed you. It feels a lot like coming home, returning to a familiar touch - it's the way he grabs your waist, mostly, like he just knows how to touch you.

His hand brushes over the small of your back, tips gently stroking your warm skin through your dress, before snaking around your waist and pulling you closer - just as his tongue brushes over your lower lip. The other crawls up your leg, grabs the flesh of your thigh, gropes you and feels you up.

You part your lips obediently, letting Christoph's tongue slip past, brushing over yours. He tastes like cigarettes and liquor and you inhale deeply through your nose - his scent wafting around you, rich, and deep, and sophisticated.

One of your hands comes up, cups his cheek, and pulls him closer. You have never been kissed like this before, never with so much verve, so much lust. He kisses like only a man his age does, like he has tasted a hundred women, but decided you tasted best.

The hand on your leg sneaks higher, and you spread your legs needily, allowing it to slip past and between your thighs. Christoph wastes no time, his index-finger pressing against your pussy, gently rubbing it along your panty-clad folds. You are wet already; the fabric damp and you can feel your loins going up in flames as he rubs you through the thin lace.

Christoph eventually breaks the kiss, has you panting against his mouth, his lips curl up in a smug smile. His fingers dance of your cunt, gently circling your clit through your lace string. "Those boys never treat you right, do they?", he is right, he always is, has you gasping quietly, rocking your hips against his digits, "Only I get to touch you, from now on. Do you understand?"

And you nod, mind already a little hazy, nothing more important than the pulling in your stomach and the wetness between your legs. "Yes", you sigh, leaning into his touch.

"Yes --? You will address me properly", his other hand grabs your chin, "That's certainly not hard to do, now, is it?"

You swallow, your cheeks turning red once more as he digs deep into your fantasies. "Yes, Daddy", you say quietly, the word heavy on your tongue, fresh arousal flooding your cunt.

Christoph hums, visibly satisfied, thumb caressing your jaw and a soft gaze wandering over your face, takes you in, before it grows cold again, as he pulls his hands away.

"Let Daddy see what's his, then", and you follow his stern command.

Hooking your legs over his thighs you practically present yourself to him, the soft velvet cushions pressing against your calves as your back sinks against his chest - the soft material of your dress pooling between your spread legs. Christoph's hands roam over your body - from your hips up up up, brush over your stomach and then cup your tits through your flowy linen dress. His grip is firm and he squeezes them a little, making them spill out of your bra.

You gasp, looking down at his hands and watching the way they fondle your tits, pulling the hem of your dress down and hooks the fabric underneath your breasts. Being so lewdly exposed to him, reduced to being a pretty object to admire and to fondle with, has your head swimming, sparks shooting down your thighs.

"I'll show you off, hm, my pretty little girl? What do you think?", he whispers, one of his slender, large hands cupping your left tit and twisting your nipple between his fingers, "Taking you with me everywhere, let everyone see just how beautiful you are." You gasp, nodding frantically at the thought of being his pretty and expensive little arm-candy - all dolled up and looking pretty for him on the red carpet, adorned in shining jewellery and flowing dresses.

"Let's take this off, shall we?", Christoph tugs at the linen dress and helps you out of it, tosses it to the ground carelessly. You can feel his gaze roaming over your body as he looks over your shoulder, feel heat creeping up your cheeks as you suddenly realize that you wearing one of the lingerie sets, he had gifted you a couple of weeks ago.

A low growl leaves his throat, has the hairs on your arms standing up. "Have you been wearing this for him?", he sing-songs catatonically, his index finger hooks underneath the strap of your string, lets it snap back against your skin.

You have, but it makes you feel stupid now. Childish. Like you have done something laughable. Shame bubbles in your stomach and you feel the urgent need to explain yourself to him: "Y-yes, but--"

"Sh, be quiet", Christoph says softly, his hands casually making quick work of your bra, unclasping it, pulling the strings down your arms, and tossing it into the darkness of the room, "It's fine. You didn't know any better, did you, Liebes?"

"N-no, I didn't", you squeal, the cool air brushing over your hardened nipples, making you shiver while his hands run down your body.

"And do you think, it's fair that he gets to see you all dolled-up like this? In something I have bought you?"

Your teeth catch your lower lip as you shake your head. "Right", his thumb brushes over the strap of your lace string, "And why is that?"

You swallow. You know what Christoph wants to hear and you might just be very willing to give it to him. "Because I belong to you", you say quietly, your stomach fluttering after the words left your mouth.

"That's right", his thumb toys with the lace trimming of the string, "You always have, haven't you?"

You blink. "Huh?"

"Don't be stupid, now."

"I -- I don't-", and he tsks at your aimless stuttering.

"My pretty little airhead", Christoph coos, "Why do you think I bagged your mother?", and suddenly - it clicks. Like a heavy lock falling shut.

You remember the first day of rehearsal at the theatre. It had been his first day there and you had driven your mother, who was responsible for the stage designs, to work since she still had a broken thumb from working on the furniture and was pumped up on painkillers. Saying your goodbyes, you had been seeing him standing a few feet away, smiling at the two of you. You had paid it no mind - especially later, since he ended up going out with your mother. But he hadn't been smiling over the situation, he had been smiling at you. You. Not your mom.

The realization hits you like a freight train, leaves you breathless. "I always get what I want."

"Oh", you make dumbly, mouth agape a little, while his fingers dance over your panty-clad pussy.

"You are just a dumb little baby, aren't you?", for a split second his hand leaves you, only to come down rather hard, as he gives your cunt a firm slap, "I think, I might have to fuck some sense into you."

You squeal, a sharp gasp escaping your lips but you can't help it, as you feel fresh wetness pooling between your legs, rocking your hips against the palm of his hand. "Yeah, I thought so", he sounds rather pleased, lips brushing over the shell of your ear, "Nothing more on your dumb little brain than getting off, hm?"

"Y-yes", you croak, flinching as he strikes your aching cunt another time, moaning sweetly, "Daddy - fuck - p-please!"

"I know just how you feel", his other hand grabs your tit roughly, gropes you, pinching your nipple, "You made Daddy jack off to you so often, princess. Can't wait to see if you're really that tight."

And with that, he unceremoniously pulls your string to the side and you sigh, as your plush and hot skin gets exposed to the cool air.

One of his fingers immediately brushes over your slick folds, and you can hear him hum, a low sound that ignites your lust, has you gasping softly.

"Mh, so wet already, aren't you?", you are, you can hear it. You can hear your juices squelching as his finger runs up and down your cunt, circling your hole and giving your clit the slightest bit of stimulation. Your whole body tingles with it, and you look down, watch him exploring your wet pussy. And maybe, just maybe, you have thought about this, too - with your vibrator pressed snugly against your clit and fingers plunged deep in your cunt - maybe, the thought of him had been flashing through your mind, made you cum at least once.

Christoph's lips brush over your neck, goosebumps spreading over your skin, his free hand wrapping around one of yours. "C'mere, let me show you how wet you are for your Daddy, princess."

And you moan quietly, as he guides your hand between your legs, runs your fingers through your folds. You are incredibly wet, wetter than you have ever been and you gasp at the sensation as his hand guides your fingers through your slick. It's thick and watery and warm and your mouth falls agape at just how much there is of it. It drips down your cojoined fingers, that glide along your folds easily, runs over the palm of Christoph's hand and over his wrist.

"I have never seen a cunt wetter than yours", he whispers and you mewl, gaze dropping down between your legs, watching him guiding your fingers over your pussy. The grip on your fingers is firm and his movements come to a halt, as your digits brush right over your clit. Your breath audibly hatches and you mewl, the slightest bit of stimulation already having you begging for more.

Christoph grins against your warm skin, teeth brushing over the soft flesh. He knows that you had had sex before - he has seen the messages you sent to your roommate about the boys from class, about the one with the pretty blonde hair - but he can't help but notice how you turn into puddy in his hands, like you have never been touched before. Like a fucking virgin. It makes his blood boil, dick straining against his trousers, wanting to see you come apart under the touch of his hands. He wants to see you go insane on his cock, until there is nothing else left but him - all your flings from college washed from your mind - a clean slate for him to claim, ruin.

"Are you always that needy? I don't even want to think about how poorly he must've touched you", Christoph mumbles against your neck, tongue darting out, licking a wet stripe over your warm skin before moving his fingers along with yours, rubbing slow and wide circles over your clit, "I bet it was downright pathetic."

Your hips buck and you gasp, eyelids fluttering. "Oh god, yes", you breathe, feeling your own wetness beneath your fingertips, and the lust sparking in your loins like a wildfire, "Yes, it was."

The way Christoph touches you is just so so different from what you experienced earlier - his slender fingers move yours skilfully, rubbing your clit like he just knows how you like it, like he's done it a hundred times before. You sink back against him, and he gently removes your hand from your cunt, places it onto your thigh instead - lips brushing and sucking on the back of your neck. "Let me show you how good I can make you feel, darling", he hums, "Let me show you how a real man can make you feel."

And with that, he unceremoniously pulls the lace of your string apart, riiips it cleanly in two, lets the fabric fall to the floor, before spreading your legs further. His fingers dance over your cunt, gliding through your slick, before two of them dive back in on your clit. Rubbing wide, slow circles he has you gasping within seconds, watching his digits working you with your mouth agape - your hole clenches around nothing, hips bucking.

"Does that feel good, princess?", he sounds so so smug, like he knows that it does. You can feel your loins catching fire, slowly rolling your hips against his fingers.

"Y-yes, fuck yes", you huff, moaning quietly.

Christoph's finger delves deeper and circles your hole, has it fluttering under his touch, before he carefully pushes it in. You gasp, and he chuckles, feels the way your walls clench around him.

"You're so tight, princess", he pushes his finger in completely, curls it a little and you moan as it brushes over the spot that usually has you seeing stars - before he starts to move it slowly, agonizingly even, rubs your walls and feels you squeezing him.

Christoph can't wait to fuck you, to get his dick wet, feels himself growing even harder in his slacks at the thought. He has been thinking about it for so long, that touching you makes him a little dizzy, and it needs a whole lot of willpower not to throw you off his lap and push you into the cushions, ass up, pounding into you until you're a drooling, crying mess.

He really wants - needs - to take it slow, get a taste of every single second, make it last as long as he possibly can. He will make you beg for it, drunk with it; drunk with the way he is going to fuck you until you see stars, until there is nothing left on your mind but him and his dick pounding into you, his hands on your body. He had already made you dependant on him financially, and now, finally, he will own your body and its countless pleasures, too.

Christoph smiles to himself, all crinkled crow's feet, and white teeth, as you roll your hips against his finger, desperately adding some more friction. He loves giving it to you: pulls his finger out of you, only to push two back in, stretching your hole out a little. You are so fucking tight around his digits; he can feel the ring of muscles clutching and straining against his fingers. "No one's ever fucked you real good, Liebes, I can tell."

He shoves his fingers deeply into your cunt, gives you a short moment to assess to the feeling, before moving them slowly, fucking your slick in and out of you. First, your hips tremble and then you squirt, moaning deeply, wetness splashing against the palm of Christoph's hand. Gasping, you watch his other hand crawling between your legs, his index-finger slowly circling your clit.

Pleasure shoots through your body and you moan, goosebumps spreading over your body, your heartbeat rattling with lust. "Fuck", you gasp, head lolling back onto his shoulder.

With his lips ghosting over your strained neck, Christoph gently speeds up, harvests the desperate whines and gasps falling from your lips as he pushes his fingers in and out of you.

You feel like you do not even have to tell him what you want, what you like - it is like he hasn't only dug deep into your browser history, but also your brain - like he just knows which switch to flip, how to touch you and how to rile you up with a deadly precision. It also feels oddly familiar - his touch, his smell, your body pressing against his with lust and a thin layer of sweat - like he has known your body for years, like he had fingered and touched you a hundred times before.

And thus, you do not even have to vocalize it, that you need more, need it harder - he just knows, reads you like an opened book or a fucking road sign. Christoph starts to fuck you quickly, his fingers pushing your cream in and out of you, pussy gushing around his digits. Your hand flies to his wrist, clutches it tightly, as you moan and sigh, desperate of any sort of leverage.

The way he fingers you feels so fucking good and you wish it would never end, but you can already feel your muscles clenching and then his other hand starts to rub your clit hard, two slender fingers circling it quickly and you gasp, mewl.

"D-daddy", you shriek, walls clutching around his fingers rapidly as you feel your orgasm approaching quicker than any time before, "I-- I'm gonna-"

"Go ahead", he sounds amused, and the humiliation that floods you at his tone has your orgasm rolling over you, coming loose around his fingers on his command.

Shudders roll over your body as you cum, pathetic whimpers leaving your mouth while Christoph fucks you through your climax, fingers circling your clit and making you squirt against his digits. You are slowly coming back down to earth, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, before you moan, throwing your head back while you rock down on his long fingers, riding out your orgasm. Your juices squelch around his fingers as he rubs them along your walls, your squirt wet the sofa's cushions beneath. You can feel your slick running down your legs, and you gasp.

"There you go", Christoph coos, lips brushing over your exposed shoulder, his other hand still on your throat, thumb brushing over your jaw, "Doesn't that just feel wonderful, angel?"

You nod, a breathless Yes, Daddy escaping your lips - and you are just so turned on, fire in your loins and fresh wetness pooling between your legs, that you can't help it. You continue to roll your hips onto his fingers despite the last remains of your orgasm still rolling over you, gently and slowly rocking down, meeting the equally gentle thrusts of his fingers. Your cunt squelches as you squirt against the palm of his hand.

Christoph whistles lowly, pulls his fingers out of you - leaving you a whimpering mess - takes a good, long look at them in the dim, golden candle light. They glisten with your juices and he considers shoving them into your mouth for a moment, but the way you roll your hips onto him with your ass rubbing over his bulge, is fucking distracting, has him stalling.

"Oh fuck", you gasp, your head falling back on his shoulder, "Oh god, please, 'stoph, please please -"

"Oho", he chuckles smugly, "Still needy, little girl?"

You are. Your cunt aches, like you haven't just cum and made a mess out of the sofa beneath, but you feel so so empty. You need more. You need -

"N-need your cock, please! Daddy, please--", you roll your hips on his crotch, feeling his hard dick pressing against the soft linen, hot and heavy. He feels big against your wet and aching cunt, leaving stains on his expensive slacks, and you can't fucking wait to feel it inside of you.

Christoph grabs your hips hard, stalling your movement and pressing your slick pussy against his bulge. You can feel his hard cock twitching while you stain and wet the fabric and you moan, needily, while his tongue and lips graze over your shoulder, lapping at the soft skin.

And then, he suddenly buries his teeth in your shoulder - gentle but still hard enough to leave a mark - makes you gasp and sob, before he is licking over the bruised and red skin. Christoph's lips move up up up, over your neck, sucking and kissing. His tongue dances over the shell of your ear, his voice nothing but a deep rumble: "I can't wait to fuck you, darling. Been thinking about it a lot, I just can't get enough of you."

Your breath hitches, and you look over your shoulder, your gaze meeting his unrelenting one. "Please", you say quietly, his grey eyes boring into you, "Do it."

And then Christoph leans in, locks his lips with yours once more, licking into your mouth, while one of his hands wanders down, opens the fly of his pants. He is getting impatient now and you are, too, one of your hands joining his and pulling the hem of his boxers down. He is panting into your mouth, against your lips and your hand wraps around his cock, all hot and hard, gives it a few experimental strokes.

You wonder if he will fuck you like he kisses you; like he is going to swallow you whole, like he is never going to let you go again, with the way his nose digs into your cheek and his hands hold you close while his tongue explores your mouth in between open-mouthed kisses full of panting and groaning, leaving your lips plump and plush. You want him to fuck you like that - until there is nothing left but him.

His dick is bigger than you thought, long and just the right girth and you have trouble closing your hand around it fully. The way you stroke him, despite the angle being a little clumsy with your body in the way, has Christoph groaning into your mouth, licking your tongue, and gripping your waist, his other hand dipping back between your legs.

Your pussy is soaked, and he spreads your slick over the hot, plush skin - so responsive from your previous orgasm, that you gasp and moan against his lips, and he catches your lower lip, gently bites, and nibbles at it. Your hand massages his dick, your thumb occasionally flicking over its tip, smearing the drops of precum pooling beneath your digits. Eventually, Christoph is parting from you, cheeks blushed a little and pupils blown wide, swats your hands away. His voice is deep and dark, nothing but a low and soft whisper, that has the hairs on your body standing up as he addresses you again: "You fucking slut."

And that, that has you moaning. You never thought you'd hear such things from him, but the way his eyes grow dark and his voice rumbles in his chest you are certain, that something primal has kicked in his inner doors and makes itself comfortable. "First, you dress up like a whore for a hicktown-boy and now, all I have to do is to give you a cock and you're gone so quickly you won't even let go of it, eh?"

"It's jus'so big, Daddy, feels so good", you slur, already a little gone, trying to get your hands onto him once more. He tuts at you, shakes his head a little. "You'll get it back, sunshine, don't you worry."

Christoph grabs his dick with one hand - the other arm wraps around your frame and adjusts you in his lap, your naked, shivering body resting against his expensive linen - and presses it against your seeping hot cunt. The feeling alone makes your loins tingle, has you spreading your legs further.

You gasp, needy for him to finally fuck you, finally shove his cock into you. "Please, Daddy--", you whine, rolling your hips against his dick, wetting it with your juices.

"Been teasing me for so long", he sounds unnerved while thinking about it, his cock twitches against your hot cunt, "Did that get you off?"

"N-no", you mewl honestly, because you didn't, you did not know what you were doing to him. You feel guilty, wanting to make it right - to finally be good for him.

"Bet it did", he hums, not listening to you, "I will have to teach you some manners, one day."

Shivers tingle on your arms, run down your body and you nod, the promise of a punishment lingering in the air, your hole clenching around nothing at the mere thought of it. You need him - now. Need him to stuff your cunt, fuck you until you are a drooling mess, not a single thought remaining. "Daddy, please, just-"

"You know, I have kids your age", Christoph is slowly rubbing his cock along your cunt, the tip of it nudging against your clit, making you shiver and whimper. The complete and utter filth that leaves his mouth has you squirming on his lap, his tone - smug and calculating - makes him sound nearly proud that he's bagging someone as young and pretty like you. You can feel some fresh wetness spreading between your folds, warm and sticky, as he rubs his precum through them, eventually presses the thick tip against your waiting hole.

Christoph knows that you usually only let someone fuck you with a condom on, he has seen your contraception laying around in your room but he will make sure that tonight's a little different - he'll claim you, pump you full of his cum and make you remember the way it will mingle with your own juices.

Expecting you to protest as he finally pushes in without one on, he is genuinely surprised as you don't; instead, your hole flutters open, invites him in deeply, accompanied by the sweetest, softest, high-pitched moan he may have ever heard. The second your hot walls close around his dick, squeezing him tightly with your hole stretching around his thick cock, his face comes loose.

You can hear Christoph exhale deeply, a pleased and satisfied sound, his eyes falling shut and face growing soft as he relishes in the feeling of your throbbing, wet cunt. His dick isn't only bigger than you thought, it fucking feels like it, too. The thick head presses snugly against your cervix, while your hole stretches around its base, walls pressed against it, feeling his cock throb.

"Ah, that's it", he sighs quietly, hands gently rubbing your hips.

"'S good?", you slur, already a little out of it but wanting to be good for him, good for your Daddy.

"Better than I have ever dared to dream, darling", one of his hands brushes over your thigh, caresses the warm skin.

You sigh with the praise, hole clenching around the thick base of his cock while it stretches you out. "Y'feel so good, Daddy", you mumble, looking down to where his dick vanishes inside of you, has your cunt spread on it.

"That's my polite little girl", Christoph's hand brushes over your stomach, up up up and cups your right tit, gives it a firm squeeze.

"Why don't you start moving, sunshine? Make sure it will keep feeling good for me, hm?", he suggests, silky voice dripping with honey, and he lets go of a ragged breath as you do. Rolling your hips experimentally once, feeling his cock moving inside of you, and you quiver. It gently prods against your cervix with every moment, making you mewl and gasp.

Starting off slowly, you raise your hips and then move them back down carefully, feeling Christoph's cock stretching you out, rubbing along your walls. His hands brush over your thighs, your waist. "There you go, darling", he croons, lips brushing over your shoulders, "Keep going, make me feel good."

And you really want to - thus, you grow braver, lifting your hips and sinking back down quicker, rolling them on his cock. He groans, throaty and deep, hands digging into your thighs. You start to ride his dick, fucking yourself back onto him quickly, hands darting out to his knees, desperate for any sort of leverage as you lift your hips and sink back down.

Moaning, you throw your head back as your body sacks forward a little, back arched and Christoph gives your exposed ass a firm slap, before his hand snakes around your body, closes in around your throat. "Upright, girl", he scolds, has you gasping and straightening back up immediately. The hand does not vanish, instead, it adds pressure to your delicate neck, pressing your windpipe shut. Your hips stutter and your eyes widen, right before pleasure shoots through your body, hot waves of lust making you squirt against his cock. Your thighs clench, knees darting together. "Keep them open for me, baby girl", he huffs, his free hand darting between your thighs, grabbing your left and forcefully spreading your legs in the process.

Christoph's hand lets go of your throat, now laying gently against your soft skin instead and thus, keeping your upright on his lap, back arched. "Oh", you gasp, so fucking turned on, you might combust on the spot, "Oh, fuck -- Daddy!"

The hand on your thigh gropes you lightly, thumb brushing over your skin gently. You move up and down on his cock, cunt throbbing and walls squeezing him occasionally, while the tip of his dick prods against your cervix. The way Christoph's cock splits you open, rubs along your walls is delicious, has you gasping and whining.

"Mhm, don't you just look pretty, bouncing on your Daddy's cock like that?", the hand around your throat clutches once more and you moan, high pitched and whiny, hips bucking.

The lack of oxygen has your walls clenching around his dick as you rock down on it, hands desperately grabbing the linen of his slacks. The stretch in your back is deliciously painful, the hand on your throat adding to it.

Feeling your orgasm approaching slowly, you speed up a little more, the sounds of your slick skin hitting his cock filling your room, mingling with his groans and your whines. "There you go, sunshine", Christoph's praise is sweet and soft as you speed up a little more, rolling your hips up and down up and down, hands clutching the linen of his slacks, while you fuck yourself back onto his dick. You can feel your heart pounding in your throat, you can taste your arousal on the tip of your tongue, hear your blood singing with it.

With your cunt squeezing him, practically milking his cock as you rock down it, Christoph can't help but wanting more. The hand on your thigh sneaks between your legs, and he feels you shivering in his lap as his index-finger brushes against your clit. Your gasps are sweet and turn into dirty, wanton moans quickly as he starts to circle your clit with it and Jesus fucking Christ - he wishes he could hear it every day, when he wakes up, when he goes to bed, wishes he could just do nothing all day, only play with you, and make you cum over and over and over again. The way you roll your hips and fuck yourself onto his dick becomes more erratic, desperate and a little clumsy and his lips curl up - he just knows you're close.

"That's a good girl", Christoph coos, voice rough and deep, "Cum on my cock. Be a good girl and cum for me."

Adding pressure to your windpipe once more, he presses the hand around your throat down hard. Your hips buck wildly at the sudden lack of oxygen, lust shooting through your veins, while his finger rubs over your clit fast, in rhythm with the thrusts of your hips. You can feel your walls clenching heavily around his dick and then you cum, your orgasm hitting you with such force, that all you can do is gasp loudly. Any sound and thought is wiped from your body as your cunt squeezes his cock, pussy clenching and legs trembling, hips stuttering as you squirt and squirt, your cream gushing against his dick.

Christoph continues to fuck you through it, moaning quietly while you milk his cock, one arm wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place, the other slooowly letting go of your throat. You suck in desperate breaths, your senses slowly returning and you moan, high-pitched and sweetly, as you feel his dick pulsating inside of you.

"Yeah, just like that, sunshine", he groans, while he fucks you through your orgasm, cock twitching inside of you and shooting hot ropes of cum into your hole, painting your walls white, "Such a good girl, taking it all."

Humming with his praise, you spread your legs wide over his lap, letting his dick in a little deeper, welcoming his cum home. His free hand roams your inner thigh, gropes you gently, while he huffs and groans into your ear - the low sound making you shiver. You relish in the feeling of his warm body beneath you, feeling pumped full by his cum and his hands all over you, while your body grows a little sore, your pussy becoming plush and plump.

His dick is still buried inside of you, hard and hot and heavy. You feel so so full, with his cock preventing his cum from leaking out, only a few drops run out of your hole lazily, drip down his balls and onto the sofa. His cock doesn't seem to go noticeably flaccid, having you gasp and moan with the sensation, relishing in the feeling of him filling you up to the brim. You want to ask why he's still hard, but the question becomes obsolete as your gaze flickers to the coffee table. There's a blister of pills there, one cavity empty. The pills are blue.

Christoph's thumb rubs along your chin, catches on your lower lip. "Surprised, angel?", and you nod, only a dumb Uh-huh leaving your throat and he snickers at the sound, pushes his thumb into your mouth. Immediately, like you are fucking programmed to, you start sucking on it, pussy clenching around his hardening cock.

"Oh, my pretty baby, fucked your brains out already? And I am not even done yet", he sounds genuinely amused while his other hand brushes over your inner thigh and your skin and the nerves below are so so responsive to his touch, has you squirming in his lap and on his cock, mewling. It makes him groan, a low sound, vibrating deep in his throat.

"I have been waiting so long for this", he husks, "I didn't want for it to end too quickly, hm?"

You can feel him growing back to full size inside of you, within mere minutes. It feels nice, nice being so full and you are so far gone in that thickly sweet daze that you don't even think once, as you roll your hips lazily - once, twice - while his hands roam over your body, your lower belly, your waist, groping your tits.

Christoph touches you with a righteousness, like you belong to him, like he owns you. Like there's no one else but you.

But you know that's not true. You know that upstairs your mother is fast asleep, and that on her nightstand lays an expensive engagement ring with a huge-ass diamond. If you weren't so fucked out of your mind, you'd care and you'd wonder if this is a one-time thing.

As if he can read your thoughts, he says: "Don't you worry your pretty little head, princess. I won't marry her anymore - it's only you darling, always been."

And you sigh, his sweet talk wrapping you in as he pushes his hips upwards once, buries himself deep into your cunt, hits your cervix. You look over your shoulder, and your gazes meet.

One of his hands comes up, rests on your cheek while he starts to fuck you slowly, softly pants with the way his dick slips in and out of you. "Oh, my sweet baby", Christoph coos while you are hissing quietly as his cock brushes over your overstimulated walls, spreads your tight and aching hole, your hand clutching his wrist.

"Daddy, i-it's too much", you mewl and he pouts at you playfully, shakes his head.

"No, it isn't, is it? You can take it", his thumb caresses your cheek, gives you a sweet peck on the lips, "Be a good girl and take it. You can give me one more."

But you physically can't, and neither does your pussy, walls tightening around him, pushing against his hard dick. "Oh, das machen wir aber nicht, hm?", Christoph scolds, his other hand diving back between your spread legs, two fingers gently circling your clit. You hum, body immediately relaxing, and within a few moments the dull pain of him assaulting your used hole vanishes in thin air, sharp gasps escaping your parted lips, your juices running down your cunt.

"There we are. I knew you could take it", his grin is nothing but devilish, peppers your cheek with soft kisses, "I'm so proud of you, sunshine, hm? Taking it so much better than your mom. I knew you'd be the one."

Stretching your already used cunt further, he nestles back in fully, sighs deeply. "Like you were made for me, angel."

"Yes", you sigh sweetly, because you sure feel like it. Gently, careful even, Christoph continues to circle your clit, pinching and rubbing it. Your body slowly, slowly sinks away from you, growing light and all that is left is the feeling of his hands touching you, his cock buried deep inside of you. Every nerve-ending tingles with it, your brain only focussed on him and the way he feels, the way he smells, the way he sounds. The only thing left is him.

Your body goes limp, arms dangling at your sides as Christoph grabs your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and thrusts you onto his cock - once, twice. Deep thrusts, that make your blood sing.

"O-oh, oh Daddy", you gasp, eyes rolling back. Your body practically goes up in hot, burning flames of lust, sparks tingling in your thighs and your chest and you want him to run his hands all over you and feel you up, but you also don't want him to stop manhandling you like he does - all his pent up energy coming lose, practically giving you taste of how long and cruel his wait had been. If you weren't so fucked out of your mind, everything a little hazy already, you would touch yourself, but you just can't - all you can do is spread your legs wider, mouth agape while you pant and moan, relishing in the delicious feeling of his dick fucking you into oblivion.

Your jaw goes slack with it, head lolling back onto his shoulder as he uses you, hammers you down on his dick like a fleshlight. Christoph's grip on your waist and hips is hard enough to leave bruises and tomorrow morning you will be able to see them, an angry red, count the ways he marked you as his.

The thought of you being nothing more to Christoph than his pretty little cocksleeve - young and attractive - that he can take anywhere and fuck whenever he pleases, makes your head swim. You think about him dragging you along to some award-show, showing you off on the carpet and then bending you over the sink in one of the bathrooms because another actor looked at you for a second too long, fucking you until you can't really walk anymore - only to later sit in the award ceremony and feeling his cum leaking out of you. You think of him taking you out for dinner to a fancy restaurant - maybe even with some of his Hollywood-friends - playing with your pussy at the dinner table, whispering sweet nothings in your ear - just because he can, because who would even dare to stop him? You think about visiting him on set, waiting for him in his hotel room - adorned in the jewellery he has gifted you, nothing on but a revealing set of lingerie - waiting for him to take his stress out on you.

It makes you fucking wet, squirt gushing from your cunt, that runs down your folds and that he pumps back into your wanton hole. "Jesus, fuck", you whine, starting to roll your hips with the way he thrusts you down on his dick, feeling him deep deep inside of your pussy, thick head brushing over and hitting your cervix. Hearing him moan with it nearly makes you lose your mind.

You cry out - overstimulated, but so so horny - with his cum squelching out of you with every single thrust, mingling with your juices and dripping, squirting onto the sofa. There are pleas falling from your lips as you yell out with lust and Christoph's quick to clasp one hand around your mouth, your cries and deep moans muffled by the palm of his hand. Your eyelids flutter as you fuck yourself back against his thrusts, his cock hitting your cervix and pain and lust ignite your body, making you want to curl up and just take take take what he gives you.

You feel like you are on fire, your whole body responding to his touch and his thrusts, every single nerve in your body on high alert, as you feel your orgasm coming closer.

Looking down, you can see how he is still thrusting your body down on his dick and you watch, panting. Seeing just how he is using you, like you are nothing but a delicate toy --

It's what tips you over.

A high-pitched scream escapes your mouth as you cum, muffled by his hand pressing against your mouth - before he pulls away, allows you to suck in a few deep breaths through your opened mouth.

Your body practically convulses on his cock, shakes rattling your frame as your third orgasm rolls over you, creaming and squirting against his dick, making a pretty mess of his linen slacks and the sofa beneath. You have left quite a few nasty stains tonight, and your cheeks will turn red in a few days, when your mother spots them and Christoph lies to her face.

Your cunt squeezes his dick and you can feel it twitch heavily inside of you, once, twice, and then he cums too, shoots hot ropes of cum inside of your pussy once more. You feel so fucking full, like you are about to burst, as you roll your hips against his, cunt gushing around his cock.

"Oh fuck", you moan sweetly, sacking back against him. You can hear him pant, one hand on your waist coming lose and resting gently on your stomach, rubbing loose circles over your warm skin.

"What a good girl, huh", he whispers, coarse and exhausted. His words barely reach you through the thick cloud, everything turns white and a soft numbness embraces you, makes you feel featherlight, like you are flying. Christoph's arms wrap you in gently, pulling your naked form close to his, the soft linen crinkling and pressing against your naked back.

You stay like this for a while, with his large and soft hands caressing your skin - rubbing your stomach and gently stroking your thigh - until your breath becomes deeper again, your limbs start to feel heavier, more connected to your body once more. "Oh God", you sigh, feeling his cock still plugging your hole up. It grows flaccid slowly, a few drops of his cum already leaking out of you.

Christoph's lips dance along your shoulder, your neck, kissing and pressing down onto the warm skin. His hands grip your hips tightly. "Ready?", and he sounds so so playful, like he is really enjoying this - taking some depraved satisfaction from it - and you can't help but nod, readying for him to pull out.

He lifts your hips, watches how his dick slips out of your hole easily, hears you hiss with it, and then it trickles down. Thick drops, streaks of white cum flush from your used cunt, and he's quick to swipe his fingers along your folds - spreads your pussy and his cum, collects it with his fingers.

They enter your vision and without thinking, like you're still far gone - despite the fact that you aren't - he shoves them between your obediently opened, waiting lips. You close them around his fingers, while the remains of his cum drip out of you still, and start to clean them up, sucking on them, tongue swirling around his digits.

"That's a good girl", his praise has your blood singing, and you whine in protest as Christoph pulls his fingers from your mouth, "So, tell me - where do you go the next time you want a good fuck?"

"To you, Daddy", you say softly, earning you a warm chuckle and a pat on the thigh.

***

Your legs are still wobbly as you make your way downstairs in the morning and out onto the terrace. Your mother and Christoph are sitting in the sun, a light breeze rolling around the terrace, making the seam of the table cloth sway gently.

Your mother is silently eating her breakfast while Christoph rustles with his French newspaper. He appears to be interested in the Feuilleton but you notice how his gaze flickers to you as soon as you're approaching the table, remains glued to your figure, small lines forming around his eyes.

"Oh, honey!", your mother gets up, happy that you are awake, and gives you a featherlight kiss on the cheek, "Oh god, you look horrible, darling! Did you sleep unwell?"

Christoph snorts, but your mother ignores it - holds you at arm length, iron grip around your arms as she assesses your timid frame.

"Yeah, 's just the heat", you mutter, freeing yourself from her death grip and sit down, flinching a little. You're so fucking sore, legs still heavy and hole aching, pussy begging for another touch through the slight pain. Christoph deliberately puts down the newspaper, a smug smile toying at the corners of his lips. It grows rather surprised than complacent as he takes you in fully.

You are wearing one of the dresses he had bought you. You also draped a silk scarf around your shoulders, hiding the viciously glowing bitemark he gave you. His face is expressionless as he looks at you, his cold stare boring into you. For a moment you think, he might rat you out - tell your mother that you snuck out last night.

But he doesn't. Instead, he wordlessly pours you a glass of freshly pressed orange juice, hands it over to you. Your fingers brush over his, goosebumps spreading over your skin at the thought that just a couple of hours, they had been in you, fucking you to hell and back.

You can still feel them inside of you, growing wet at the thought, squirming a little in your chair. If it weren't for your mom sitting right next to you, you'd get up and beg him to fuck you. Your pussy aches at the imagery that your brain conjures up; tits bouncing, one leg hooked over his shoulder, the expensive dress pooling around your waist, glasses on the table clinking with each thrust.

Your mother - oblivious to what is happening in front of her - brabbles on about her plans for the day, while Christoph's gaze is chained to yours.

It feels like his eyes are undressing you, a shadow dances over his greyish eyes, turning them into a darkened sky. Your hand grips the glass tightly, thighs rubbing together. You really wish you could just --

"Careful", he says quietly, pointing at your hand clutching your glass so hard your knuckles start to turn white, and you let go of it, like you just burned yourself. The glass nearly topples over on the white table cloth, the juice trickles down the insides of it lazily, silent testimony to an accident prevented. He's right - it might've burst.

Thank you for taking care of me, Daddy. You want to get up and thank him properly, unzip his pants and --

"Don't you think, that'd be nice, honey?", your mother chimes, still busy with her avocado, and pulls you out of your daydream - you on your knees with Christoph rubbing his cock and balls across your face and making you look like a cheap whore, before he slips it between your plush, waiting lips with their red lipstick smudged - you barely manage not to moan aloud, quickly turning your head her way.

"Huh?", you blink dumbly.

"Honey", she scoffs, "I said - Do you wanna go to the beach today?"

You rather wouldn't. Especially not with your mother around, gushing about the man who fucked you senseless last night. You would rather spend the day with him alone.

Thus, your gaze flickers back to Christoph quicker than you can think about it, quicker than you can stop yourself from doing it. He gives you the slightest nod, that goes completely unnoticed by your mother and rearranges his reading glasses.

Thank you for thinking for me, Daddy.

"Sure, why not?", you can hear yourself say. Christoph rustles with his newspaper and somewhere, in the trees, a bird chimes.

[justagirlwholikesadam]

Farmer! Sandor Clegane Headcanon

don't own these pics

Summary: Just a few headcanon of Sandor Clegane as a farmer.

A/N: Thinking about this man as a farmer has me down on my knees. Comment and like below, maybe I can do next farmer Sandor meeting reader. Enjoy-L || Border Credit: @cafekitsune

Warning: SFW, sad childhood, Sandor being himself, dog dad,

Farmer!Sandor always knew he wanted to be a farmer from a young age. He liked working with his hands and moving around. He never wanted a desk job, he couldn't imagine his 6 '6 self sitting on a small computer chair for nine hours a day, five days a week. He had low patience dealing with idiot people, so retail was out of the question, any job that required dealing with people was a no. So far the only thing talking back to him were the animals on the farm and he was content with that. 

Farmer!Sandor isn't much of a people person but he will sometimes invite Tormund, a worker from the market he goes to for groceries once in a while over to watch the game or just for a beer. Sandor only does it because Tormund doesn't shut up about coming over. After two six-packs, Tormund isn't so bad to be around and he doesn’t ask him about his scars. 

Farmer!Sandor gets up right before the rooster crow at dawn. He likes to watch the sunrise while drinking black coffee. He nibbles on some toast or some corn muffins. On Sunday, he makes a big breakfast meal since it's the only day he rest. Eggs, bacon sometimes with ham and grits. 

Farmer!Sandor wears a white beater shirt and his dark coarse chest hair peeks out. It shows off his broad shoulders and his muscular arms, it was all thanks to the hard manual labor he does. He ties his long hair with a black hair band, he keeps a spare around his wrist. He wears old blue jeans that hang low on his hips. Sometimes he wears a flannel shirt, when it gets too hot, he takes it off and wraps it around his hips. He wears these heavy size 12 boots with rubber outsoles on them. 

Farmer!Sandor sweats alot after a long day of work. He uses the flannel to wipe the sweat off his forehead, neck and tone arms. He showers immediately after walking into the house. He leaves the boots outside and goes into the shower to clean the dirt and sweat off of his body. He makes sure he cleans himself, rubbing the body wash thoroughly through his chest hair and his long hair. 

Farmer!Sandor walks out of the shower and looks at himself in the mirror. His burn scars are a bit red from being out in the sun all day. He reminds himself for tomorrow to wear his hat. He grabs face cream from the medicine cabinet to help with the redness. Some days Sandor can't stand the sight of him, that's why he liked being alone in his farmhouse. He dislikes the stares and pointing he got when going into town. 

Farmer!Sandor still has issues about his face, it has gotten much better after going to the doctors. He has even done surgery for his hair to grow a bit, he usually combs his hair over to cover the slightly bald spot. He applies oils on his beard regularly and it helped his beard grow a bit back. His right brow has grown a bit as well, but the burn scars on his cheek and ear are still very visible. 

Farmer!Sandor dresses comfy to get started on dinner. He walks into the kitchen and turns on the radio or sometimes the tv. He's listening to the news while cutting some veggies he has grown from his garden in the backyard. He usually grills his steak in the backyard when he's not tired. Opening a beer, he sits down and eats in silence. Sometimes he eats in front of the tv and watches whatever is playing. He's not picky on what to watch on tv. 

Farmer!Sandor was on the field the next day on the tractor when he heard barking. He turns it off and looks over his shoulders to see it was a dog a few feet away from him. There isn't usually strays around, he makes sure of it since he has some chickens and pigs. He walks towards the dog, its shaggy fur is white and gray. Its ears are floppy and its tongue is hanging out as it pants. 

“You alright, pup?” He asked, not really expecting it to answer but to his surprise. It barks at him, making him smile.

He carefully stretches his hand out when he notices it wasn't going to bite. He pats its head and even scratches behind its ears. Asking if it wants to eat, the dog’s tail starts wagging like crazy. Sandor decides he’ll have lunch early that day. He smiles once more when he notices it’s following him all the way to the house.  He sits outside on the porch swing as he eats his sandwich and drinks a cold glass of ice tea. He watches the dog eat the leftover steak from dinner last night. 

Farmer!Sandor decides to keep the dog after it kept following him everywhere for the past week. When he finds out it’s a girl, he decides to name it after his little sister, Ellie. The dog didn’t seem to mind, it followed him whenever he said it. He liked having company, it was less lonely when he wasn’t working. He lets Ellie sleep on the foot of his bed.

Farmer!Sandor doesn't smoke that much, he really only does it when he has a rough day. He’s sitting on the porch swing with a beer in one hand and the cigarette in the other. Since he’s alone, he does alot of thinking as he watches the sunset. He thinks about his life before he started to farm. He has been thinking about his little sister lately since the dog came around. His little sister was his best friend when he was younger. He had told her about his dream of having a farm. He smiles to himself as he remembers her telling him that he had to have horses for her to ride. He promised her that he would when he was a kid he had even promised her that he would have two horses so they could ride together. 

Farmer!Sandor didn't have a good childhood, his parents were never around and his older brother was a bully. His older brother was the one to burn him when he was a kid. While holding his face on the hot coals, his little sister tried to help him. She hit the older brother on the back with her tiny fist. Furious that she was hitting him, he had smacked her. He hit her so hard that she fell back and slammed her head on the coffee table. Ellie lost a lot of blood on the way to the hospital and did not survive. His older brother was 18 at the time and was sentenced to prison. Parents couldn't handle it and left Sandor, who was placed in foster care. 

Farmer!Sandor gets brought back to reality when he feels Ellie rubbing her head against his knee. He threw the cigarette out and placed the beer on the small table near him. He pats the seat next to him and makes sure that the swing doesn't move as Ellie jumps up next to him. He leans back as she rests her head on his lap. Sandor pats her head softly as he looks over across the field and stares at the half built stable he was building, he was going to get those horses and complete his promise to his sister. 

[stevenose]

gnaw (18+)

day 7/31 of the august writing challenge [link]

today’s word: necklace

contains: jealous!/possessive!steve; steve x reader; reader with breasts and a vagina; no gendered language used; unprotected piv

a/n: this is more so like a headcanon based on a dream i had and also an ask i received hehe

Steve Harrington could not hide his jealousy to save his life. Nor do you want him to.

Nostrils flaring and eyes narrowed in on you, arms crossed tight over his chest. He’ll make some snarky comment - “oh, you wanna fuck him too?” - and you have to pull him aside and tell him to cut the shit. That you were only joking when you told your friends you twirl your hair over the flower guy at the farmer’s market. Can he just give it a rest?

But no, he can’t. He can be somewhat good for you, definitely. He can act like things are okay and like he isn’t equally devastated and pissed at the thought of you with someone else. And this forms in a sort of casual dominance kind of way - picking out an outfit for you later that night, reservations at a nice restaurant. He wants you totally covered up, no skin showing even in the heat of the summer. And he’ll gift you with a gold necklace with an s initial strung on it. “You’re wearing this tonight. Got it?”

And what he really means is, you’re wearing this every goddamn day for the rest of time. Nearly like a collar marking your owner. He makes you dress in front of him, sat down on the edge of the bed, thighs spread. He’s allowed to wear whatever he wants and show as much skin as he wants because he knows how to behave. Which is fair. He is so clearly yours, impossibly enamored with you, that the thought of him even looking at someone else seems ridiculous. He would never.

His cock aches while you’re pulling your pants on, his initial hanging loosely between your tits.

You satiate him because his jealousy is undeniably a turn on for you and you know that pretty much the moment he cums later, his post nut clarity will have him apologizing and explaining to you how he’s scared of losing you. And you’ll tell him he’s got nothing to be sorry for because he’s the best fuck of your life (as well as the love of it).

And dinner is fine. Steve makes casual conversation, smiles sweetly at you, orders you champagne and dessert. He can usually keep himself in check in public because his jealousy can truly be a little embarrassing for him. Except he occasionally keeps mumbling shit under his breath, knocking your legs with his loafers. “What about our waiter, huh? Think he’s bigger than me?” “Should just take you on this table.”

He’s trying to rile you up. There’s a glint in his eye. He wants you to praise him, which you’d be so happy to do if he hadn’t made you wear a fucking cardigan to a restaurant in 90 degree Indiana heat. So to shut him up, you press your foot into his crotch, which he swiftly grabs and squeezes tight. He glares at you, but you shrug. “Thought you wanted me to want you, Steve?”

When he fucks you later, growling how he’s the only one who will ever see you like this, or touch you like this, he makes you keep the necklace on. Shoves the lil charm and chain in your mouth and tells you to bite down on it when you’re too loud while he’s railing you within an inch of your life. His lips marking you up, his hands squeezing and slapping your skin.

“What are you?”

“A slut,” you moan, expecting that to be what he wants. He laughs through gritted teeth.

“Nice try. What are you?”

It’s so hard to think with his cock nearly flush against your cervix. “Your slut.”

“Say. My fucking. Name. Honey.”

“I - I’m S-Steve Harrington’s slut.”

“Uh-huh,” he nods, beads of sweat forming along his hairline. “What else.”

You have to close your eyes because his are so overwhelming, but he grabs your cheeks. “Look at me.”

It makes your stomach flip. You want to hide from him so badly. “M-my cunt bel-belongs to Steve Harrington.”

“Of course it does,” he seethes, a hand coming up to pinch your nipple. “Fuck, I’ll show you.”

[soov-archived]

K𝗔NG’S G𝗔RD𝗘N ── kth.

✶ : 1k, farmer!taehyun & gn!reader, fluff. ⚠ : mentions of food, lowercase intended. ੭ : tyun .. <’3

sundays were your favorite day of the week.

it was on sundays that the town's farmer's market took place, where you could enjoy eating small samples of fruits and organic jams. not only that, but especially talking to mrs. kang and her husband, the kind old couple that ran their family business “kang’s garden”.

the booth where they sold their products was near the outdoor market's entrance. with a wooden sign (probably carved manually), a big plant pot, and multiple boxes, the place invited you merrily.

your shopping list for the week was the longest you've ever had. your family sent you alone to get the fruits and vegetables you'd need, seeing that some old friends were visiting you soon.

spotting the booth from afar, you clutched onto the eco bags you carried, rays of light kissing your face and feet dragging against the tall grass. as you neared the spot, the kang's family dog came running up to you, a red bandana dangling from her neck.

“hey, apple! how is my good girl doing?” you beamed, petting the golden retriever happily. she tilted her head to escape from your affection and lick your hand. a laugh passed through your lips.

while looking up at the booth, the sight of beautifully cultivated vegetables greeted you. accompanied by it, the aroma of fresh chives and parsley filled your lungs up.

you leaned over to try to spot mrs. kang's small frame from behind the counter, but only a tuft of pink fluffy hair came into your view. quickly, a young man stood up with a box of tomatoes, glancing at you with wide eyes.

“oh, hello,” he greeted politely, putting the box aside. “welcome to kang's garden. how may i help you today?”

the man dusted his hands off, fixing his dirty apron and the sleeves of his white button-up shirt that had its collar poking out. he offered you a kind smile, faint dimples on both sides of his cheeks, just like the ones mrs. kang had. you were sure your mouth was hanging open from how effortlessly handsome the new attendant was.

he seemed a bit taken aback by your presence, though in reality, he simply found you as gorgeous as you found him.

“right! um– i need everything in this list,” extending your arm to him, you let his calloused hands carefully pick up the paper.

his eyes traveled to each item mentioned, widening when he noticed how many of them you'd buy. “wow, you'll need lots of things.” he softly chuckled, handing back your page, “but i'm sure i can give you a discount, so don't worry about it.”

you nodded, leaving the paper on the counter. “can i get everything then?”

“yeah, ‘course.” the mysterious employee agreed, hesitantly taking a small breath in. “do you want any help? i can grab the first half of the items and you grab the other half. does that sound good?”

“sounds great, thanks!” grinning at him, you started picking up the carrots while he grabbed the bell peppers.

people passed by you, and the sound of talking and coins being tossed around was still booming around you two. the pink-haired boy opened his mouth to strike up a conversation, fascinated by you. “do you like gardening?”

“i find it cool, but i never seem to get the hang of it.” you hummed. “the tomatoes i tried to grow died a week after i planted the cutting… you?”

“i do like gardening, but i don't have much time for it since i'm always busy with college.” he affirmed before leaning back to grab a tomato from the box he brought earlier, showing it proudly to you. “i planted these, though!”

it shone bright red with the sun's reflection on it, some droplets of water that he might've used to wash it dripping from the fruit. “woah, it looks so good.”

mumbling a shy “thank you”, he retrieved the tomato to its original place.

after a while of some awkward quietude, apple started sniffing you again, jumping on your side as a way to get your attention. you and the man took notice of this at the same time and called out her name — you in a playful tone, him in a reprimanding one.

as he realized you also knew his dog's name, he frowned slightly, pausing his movements and letting the now potato in his hand go with the others. happily, the golden retriever walked up to her owner. “you know apple?”

you got shocked by the sudden inquiry but replied nevertheless. “oh! yeah, i'm a regular customer here, so i got to know her.”

“so you must know my parents then, right?” he laughed briefly, head turning down to resume his work.

“your parents…? you mean mr. and mrs. kang?”

he gave you a smile as he turned to you, nodding. however, his face fell and he fastly wiped his palm once again on his clothes. “i'm so sorry, i haven't introduced myself yet,” he offered his hand to you. “i'm kang taehyun, the owners' son.”

reality hit you with a truck when you realized he was the beloved son mrs. kang always mentioned, and the comment about college made everything click in your mind. you shook taehyun's hand back in pure astonishment as if you had just met a celebrity. “y/n. it's so great to finally meet you. your mom always tells me good things about you.”

“oh, does she?” taehyun scraped the back of his neck embarrassedly, a faint blush on his tanned face. “that sounds like her. she's very kind to everyone.”

taehyun finished counting the vegetables and telling you the final price (with the discount). as you rummaged through your wallet for the money, he hurriedly scribbled on a post-it note, sneaking it into one of your eco bags.

“thank you for buying with us, y/n. i'll make an effort to be here more often and see you again.” the youngest kang promised after the exchange ended, waving bashfully. apple barked right after his vow, sealing and officializing it.

“thanks, taehyun. i hope we'll get to see each other soon,” you returned the wave and began to walk away.

“hey, y/n!” taehyun's voice called out whilst you reached the entrance of the market. you spun around only to see him with an arm raised. “don't forget to check if you've got everything in your bags!”

immediately, you opened the bags, superficially counting the food. a yellow thing caught your eye in one of them. the words died in your throat, and the sound that escaped from your lips was a quiet laugh.

“xXx–XxX

if you're free someday, i can teach you some gardening tricks. just call me and i'll be there :)”

⠀ ⠀ © soov, 2O23.

[javipispunk]

Burn the Breeze {Obi-Wan Kenobi}

Part One | Next Part

Summary: Modern Au where Obi-Wan (Ben) and Anakin are sheriffs that come to your small town to take down the corrupt rancher Dooku. Ben is Sheriff and Anakin is a deputy, same sort of master-padawan dynamic they have in AOTC

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x f!reader

Warnings: Wyoming (yes thats a warning), law enforcement, cattle, cursing

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: I need a cowboy Obi fic so here it is. No idea how many parts it will be. Also pretending Ben is American because I have no idea how to explain how an Englishman became a sheriff in Wyoming. Heavily inspired by the show Longmire

The days were hot and long in Wyoming this time of year. The grasses were dry, painting the landscape a golden brown. How you loved to run through them with your arms stretched, soaking up the sun's rays. You thought you would never see a more beautiful sight, until you met him. His copper hair reflected the light in the most incredible way. You first noticed him wandering on the street in the town nearest to your farm with another taller, younger man. They looked lost and normally you weren’t one to go out of your way to help people. But something drew you to the two men. You couldn’t explain it. As you made your way towards them he turned around almost as if he had been expecting you. The shorter one tapped the other man on the shoulder and nodded at you, then they made their way towards you and met you in the middle. 

“Hello” you smiled. “Are you guys lost?” you asked as if you had not immediately gotten lost in the older man's bright blue eyes.

The taller one responded no as the shorter one responded yes. You couldn’t help but laugh at the taller one’s look of annoyance. He was young, still had a boyish air about him.

“We are looking for the farmer’s market.” 

You stood there confused for a moment, your town's farmers market was on Sundays, not Saturdays. “I’m sorry but there isn’t one here today, it’s tomorrow.” This made the younger one even more annoyed than he was, obviously not wanting to be here.

Quietly he snipped, “I told you”

“Oh, we must be mistaken then” the older one huffed, mostly towards the younger man.

“It’s alright, if you tell me what you were looking for I might be able to point you in the right direction.”

“Well we weren’t looking to purchase anything, just to talk to a man about his cattle”

“Okay… someone in particular or just anyone?” you questioned

The younger one finally spoke up, cutting out the bullshit “We’re looking for the man that owns the Three Triangles Ranch.”

You froze for a second. The Three Triangles Ranch was known to partake in some shady business. Even though you had only just met the two guys, you’d hate to see them end up working for a corrupt rancher. But they seemed bright enough to figure out for themselves what a bad man the head rancher Dooku was. He was known to sell underweight cattle and treat his employees harshly. Over the years people had tried to get the sheriff involved but he never seemed to care. He was more of a political figurehead than anything.

“Well I have no idea where he’s at at the moment. The ranch is about three miles north of here, but he doesn’t like visitors. You might have an easier time finding him at the bar down the road there later tonight.” You hoped that information was enough for them. You hardly knew what Dooku did as you tried not to interact with people like him. But you had seen him a time or two at the bar and knew that some of the crowd there would definitely know how to find him. The older one smiled at you and thanked you kindly. You couldn’t get over his voice. It was smooth like bourbon on ice. You were almost disappointed that the conversation was over. As they walked away you planned to go into the bar that night just on the off chance you would see the two men again. Not only were they attractive but now you were invested in why they wanted to go see Dooku. You hoped that they wouldn’t get involved in his shady dealings.

You took a deep breath before you walked in, not quite sure if you should go up to the men if you saw them. However you didn’t have to worry, you didn’t see them as you made your way to your favorite barstool in the corner where you had a view of the whole room. You decided to stay for a few drinks and see if they showed up, maybe ask the bartender Rex if he had seen the two out of towners. If not you would cut your losses and go home. Rex said he hadn’t seen men that looked the way you described, an average height man with hair that looked like the golden straw that was growing on your farm, and another a bit taller with dark hair who seemed quite aloof. So you sat, drank and waited.

Halfway through your second drink you saw them out of the corner of your eye. They both removed their cowboy hats as you looked down at your glass and felt the blush rising to your cheeks. No surprise they walked over to Rex, bartenders always know everything. Finally you looked up, you knew if they hadn’t spotted you by now they would in a few moments. Just as you predicted the dark haired young man looked in your direction, but to your surprise he gave you a smile. He had been quite annoyed earlier but now it looked like he almost was having fun. At this point you decided to stay seated, let the men and Rex finish their conversation. But before you knew it another parishioner at the bar had made his way behind the taller man with fists raised and within milliseconds your new friends had the man on the ground. Everyone automatically froze.

The taller man stood up flashing a star badge, “Sherrif’s business” was all he said. That's when it clicked. They were after Dooku, finally someone was going to do something about it. They started to drag the man out of the bar and you knew you’d have to leave quick if you wanted another chance to talk to them. So you threw a 20 and a 5 on the counter, enough to cover your drinks and a tip and then you ran out the door. Across the road the two men stood watching the attempted assailant walking away. This was your chance.

Once you got up to them you said “I knew you guys were cops, ain’t nobody wandering around looking for Dooku like that.”

“No I guess not, next time we won’t try to start a bar fight before we get information.” All three of you laughed.

You offered your hand as you said your name.

“Sheriff Kenobi” the older one smiled, “And this is Deputy Skywalker”

[archoniluthradanar]

The test of a vampire : a Beauty and the Beast re-telling Part One

Please read chapters in order. It won't be a super long fic. Beauty and the Beast is a finite story after all.

The test of a vampire : A Beauty and the Beast re-telling

A farmer takes a rose from a garden, only to have the garden's owner catch him. He demands payment in the form of the farmer's daughter working at the castle. The daughter, Caterina, thinks she will not be there long, but in time, she may find she doesn't want to leave. What she doesn't know is the man acting as her employer is vampire. In fact, every resident at the castle is a vampire. Her employer has another secret, one she may be central to.

Marcus dei Volturi x female OC

Chapter One

The Debt

oooooooooooooooooooo

Mario Cassiani was a modest man, a simple man. He owned a small farm outside Volterra's village where he grew vegetables that he would later bring to the village farmer's market to sell. His wife of 37 years had passed after a long illness, but he had his beloved daughter Caterina, who had just turned twenty years of age to keep him company. She was not only beautiful, but was also a great reader. He feared for her that some ignorant man would ask for her hand, and her intelligence would go to waste. Mario knew it was more difficult for women to get educations. Wives and mothers, that was the goal for most woman in the city.

Today was Saturday, and after kissing Caterina goodbye, Mario headed to the market, his old van filled with his produce. He hoped to get a good price for all his goods so that he could use a bit of the money to buy Caterina a gift. She was a kind-hearted young woman who asked for nothing of her father. She had taken care of him since the death of her mother, keeping their cottage clean and their meals cooked. As long as she was able to borrow books from the local library, she was happy.

As dusk approached, Mario was pleased to see his entire stock of vegetables sold. Before leaving, he checked the used book seller's stall to see if he could find something for Caterina. After browsing for a few minutes, he found a travel book of places to visit around the world. If she was not able to travel herself, perhaps she would enjoy reading about the places, and dream of making that desire a reality.

On the drive home, he saw the old Palazzo dei Priori to his right, the tower's fading shadow looming over the piazza below. He passed the old stone wall that extended the length of the castle grounds, and saw a hole. Through the hole, the branch of a bush had pushed through. On the branch grew a beautiful red rose. Mario knew Caterina would love the bloom, so he stopped the van and went to the wall. Surely the owners would not mind if a rose not visible from inside was cut. Mario did just that, pulling a small pocket knife from his pants and cut the rose as far up the branch as possible. Smiling, he walked back to the van, when he felt a breeze fluff his hair.

Standing in front of Mario was a tall man with long dark hair and dark eyes that glared down at him.

"Who said you could take my roses?" he demanded. "I saw you from my room up there." He looked up at the castle, where a window was built into the old stone wall of this wing of the castle.

Mario was afraid, but he tried to reason with the tall stranger. "I did not take your roses, sir. There was just this one sticking out from the yard through that hole. I didn't think anyone would mind. I only wanted to take it home to my daughter, Caterina."

"My roses are very important to me. No one may cut them without my express permission. You will have to pay a penalty for this crime."

Mario's hand began to shake. He offered the rose to the man, apologizing profusely. "I'm sorry. Please, I will pay you for the rose, if you wish."

The tall man gazed at Mario, his eyes oddly lightening, but now appearing red. It must be the fading sunset causing the change in colour. Mario waited until finally the man spoke. "You say you have a daughter. How old is she?"

"My Caterina is just twenty years, sir."

"Very well. Bring her here tomorrow evening. Park at the back near the wrought iron gate. She will work off your debt to me, here at the castle. You may take her home when I say she may leave."

Mario was afraid for his daughter. Being that she was beautiful, he feared what this man might try to do to her if he found her desirable. And how long would she be required to stay here. "Let me pay for the rose, or let me work for you, sir. I will gladly toil in your garden or clean the castle. Please do not ask for my Caterina."

"It is decided. Bring her here tomorrow at dusk, or pay the penalty with your life. Go now, and spend time with your daughter while you can." As an after thought, he added, "You may give her the rose."

Mario bent his head to the man. When he had raised his head, he saw the man had left without a sound.

Getting into his van, he held in the tears he felt threatening his vision. It wouldn't do for him to have an accident while driving home. Reaching up, he rubbed his eyes with one hand, clearing them so he could see. "My poor Caterina. What will become of you because of your father's unthinking actions?"

Once he reached his home, he went inside, and was greeted by his daughter.

"Hello, papa. Welcome home. I have your supper waiting." After giving her father a hug, Caterina fluttered around the kitchen, preparing their plates.

Mario handed Caterina the red rose, trying to smile. "This is for you, my dear. Oh, and this too." He handed her the book, wishing he had been satisfied with that.

"You must have done well at the market, papa." She looked at the cover of the book, and grinned. "A travel book. Oh, I love it. And the flower is so beautiful. Thank you." She kissed him on the cheek, then set about getting his meal on a plate, setting it on the kitchen table.

After washing his hands at the kitchen sink, he sat at the table and looked down at the plate of food. How was he going to tell his only child that she was going to have to leave her home tomorrow to work for some strange man in the village, at the castle of all places.

"Caterina, I need to tell you that the man who owned this rose caught me taking it, and now demands payment."

His daughter sat at the table, her own plate in front of her. "Papa, what do you mean you owe him payment. For a mere flower?"

"It seems he is very protective of his garden. I never should have taken it. And now he wants you to work off the debt he has in mind. You will stay at the castle and do as the residents say until such time they allow you to return home to me."

"Papa, I'm frightened. Why is this asked of me?"

"Child, I offered my services, but was refused. I even offered to pay for the rose, but was told no. I don't know what else to do." He took her hand in his. "I'm sure they will treat you well. They would not risk me going to the police if any harm were to come to you."

Caterina bowed her head, holding back the tears that wanted to flow down her cheeks. She held her father's hand with both hers. Trying to appear brave, she said, "I will do as you say, papa. I promise to make you proud, and don't worry. I won't allow anyone to hurt me." She gave him a wink and sniffled a smile.

Mario kissed her hands, grateful he had such a wonderful daughter. Forcing themselves to forget about tomorrow, they ate and talked about their day, the amount of money Mario had earned at the market, and why he chose the book he had bought for her.

The next morning, Caterina had packed a bag of clothing, unsure as to the length of her imposed stay. She imagined she could wash things out if she was there longer than she expected. The price of a rose in exchange for her labour could not be that long of a time. She had a smaller bag for her toiletries and her new book. She left the house, and headed to the driveway, her father already waiting for her in the van.

Mario was surprised Caterina was not crying. How brave his child was in the face of the unknown. "Are you all right, dearest?"

"Yes, papa. I will look at it as an adventure. I have never been out of Volterra, but...well, this is different at least." She sat looking straight ahead. She feared if she looked at her father, she would break down. "I'll be home before you know it."

The drive to the village didn't take very long, and he did as he had been instructed, parking at the back gate. A very tall man dressed in black was obviously waiting for them at the gate. When he saw Mario park the van, he opened the gate and waited for Caterina to exit the van while Mario gathered her bags. He handed them to the tall silent man when he held out his hands for them, easily carrying them as if they weighed nothing.

Caterina hugged her father one last time, kissing his cheek. "I will be all right, papa. Perhaps they'll let me call you." She stepped back, determined not to cry, and turned to the tall man. "I'm ready now," she said to him, following him through the castle's back doors. She gave her father one last look, blowing him a kiss, then went inside.

A/N : I love the story of Beauty and the Beast, and thought what it might be like if Marcus was the Beast, being a vampire, who meets a sweet loving young woman who would come to change his heart.

[bigdumbbambieyes]

i haven’t written anything for my Trauma Blondes™️ in a while so here are some more besties Billy and Chrissy headcanons 🤍 plus their boyfriends obvi

• Chrissy loves going to the Farmer’s Market with Billy every Saturday morning. She’ll put on her favourite outfit and do her hair, looking so fresh-faced and sunny when Billy finally rolls up to her house at 9am. She says a rushed goodbye to her parents before running outside and settling into the passenger seat, smiling knowingly as she shuts the door and eyes Billy. He’s slumped in his seat, aviators on, and dressed in his usual blue jeans but he’s wearing what she called his ‘hangover shirt’, which is an old tour t-shirt for Led Zeppelin. He’s hungover as shit and she laughs at him, runs a manicured hand through his hair, which he scrunches his nose at and swats half-heartedly at her. When they get to the market, she buys him his breakfast as a ‘thank you’: black coffee and a pastry. He follows her around and holds her bags as she shops for fresh garden vegetables and hand-picked fruit, both of them taking turns smelling the homemade soaps and looking at jewelry. Billy may look disinterested or tired but it’s his favourite part of the weekend: to spend his Saturday mornings away from his dad and home and just be soft with his best friend. Chrissy loves it for exactly the same reasons.

• Chrissy’s first memory of Billy is when she and a few girls from the cheer squad were walking outside the school and a blue Camaro revved its engine loudly, on purpose. All the girls including Chrissy either jumped or screamed in surprise (or both). She remembers looking into the window and seeing a smug smile on the new boy’s face, like he was proud of himself for startling them. She and her friends had rushed away and she didn’t expect to see or talk to him ever again.

• Billy’s first memory of Chrissy is seeing her in the hallway during his first week in Hawkins. He thought she was pretty, for a hick, but way too skinny and quiet for his tastes. The day he remembers clearly is when they were walking towards each other in the hall and she glanced up from the floor, her face breaking out into a big smile with slightly crooked teeth that made Billy almost trip over his own feet. But, that smile wasn’t for him - it was for her friend, who had been walking behind him. He couldn’t get that bright smile out of his head for a long time and used to pretend it was for him.

• Chrissy is the first girl his age to respect Billy, in all ways. She is respectful of his physical space, actively listens to him when he speaks, gives advice when he asks, apologizing when she accidentally says something hurtful, looks him in the eye (that took a while but came eventually), she’s discreet when they talk in public, etc. She doesn’t want him for anything except for who he is and it’s refreshing because no one ever has.

• They tried to run away, once. Packed their bags and snuck out on a random night just before their senior year after talking about it for over a week, about how they could start over in California. They got beyond the city limits after midnight and drove and drove until they shared a look. They couldn’t do it. Not yet. They hugged in the Camaro for a very long time, muttering quiet promises to each other before Billy let Chrissy go and she snuck back into her room with her luggage. They didn’t try to run away again.

• Chrissy’s been a vegetarian ever since she went to a butcher shop as a child and accidentally witnessed a chicken’s head get cut off. She’d cried uncontrollably and couldn’t look at raw meat for months, which made her mom angry and her dad confused. But, once they realized that she wouldn’t eat any animal put in front of her, they let her be. Billy’s mom was a vegetarian and had been feeding Billy a similar diet for his whole life, which was something he’d been proud of because he was just like his mom in that sense. But once she left, driven away by Neil, his father had told him to ‘cut that shit out’ and fed Billy meat with every meal. It made him sick and he refused to eat it, which never went over well, so he’d often suffer from terrible stomach pains at school and at bedtime. It got easier after a few years, but when he and Chrissy become close and he finds out that she’s a vegetarian, he cries. She’s not sure why he gets emotional but she holds him tight and tells him that it’s okay. She makes double of her lunches and brings it to school for him every day, loving how touched he looks when he realizes what she’s doing.

• One of their favourite thing to do is sit around a fire in Steve’s backyard with their boyfriends in the summer and early fall. Billy brings the beer, Eddie brings the weed, Chrissy brings snacks and music, all while Steve makes the fire and ensures everyone is comfortable. They all sit around and talk, joke, gossip - whatever. Sometimes they invite others, like Robin or Heather or Tommy and Carol, but usually it’s just the four of them. Those nights always bleed away into the early morning, when the birds begin to sing and the sky turns a soft blue with the rising sun, and Billy squeezes onto one of the pool recliners with Steve and pulls a blanket over them as they cuddle. Chrissy is usually perched in Eddie’s lap by the fire, both of them covered in a blanket as they quietly talk and kiss. Once the fire begins to die, Steve ensures it’s completely out before the four of them go inside to sleep.

[seospicybin]

SWEET & SOUR.

Hyunjin x reader. (s)

Synopsis: Sour fruits? No worries, Hyunjin knows how to make it sweeter. (3,6k words)

Author's note: This fic is a revised of my old work Sweet & Sour. I added 2k more words and a whole lot kinky in it.

“I think I got full just from tasting everything!” Hyunjin said as he plopped down onto the couch the second he got into your place.

He was fanning his neck, his cheeks redden from the summer heat, and his hair tied in a messy bun, yet you find him extremely hot sitting with his long legs spreading out and leaning back with his head tilted upward.

The couch looked so inviting right now, the AC blasted cool air into the room, making it even harder to resist, especially with the extremely good-looking man sitting on it, but you were too excited to unpack the things you bought from the farmers market.

You placed the grocery bags on the kitchen island with loud thuds, you bought a lot of fresh fruits, the sight of their colors inexplicably enticing and pleasing you.

You planned on washing them all off before you put them in containers and store them in the fridge.

Pulling out the first bag was a bag of pears that Hyunjin carefully picked himself with intense observation and a lot of sniffing.

“You want some pears?” You asked.

“I can peel it for you.” You offered, tearing the plastic bag apart, then putting the pears in a big bowl and placing it under the running water.

Hyunjin got up from the couch, fixing his hair as he walked toward you,

“It’s okay. I’ll do it myself.” He said, opening the drawer to get a knife.

You handed him one of the washed pears once he was done washing his hands. He started to peel it from the top part of the fruit and going in a circular motion, then around it.

You couldn’t deny that he got quite the skill on using a knife, ultimately when it comes to peeling fruits, in which you found it inexplicably endearing, rather hot even. From the way, his long fingers gripped the fruit to the way his eyebrows furrowed in extra focus as if he performed a surgery rather than peeling a fruit.

You stopped letting your mind wander too far off, you quickly took another bag of fruits, and the strawberries were enticing, with dotted red skin, plump and bigger than the ones you usually bought at the supermarket.

You carefully dumped them into a glass bowl, filled them with water, washed and rinsed them, poured the dirty water out, and did the process once again to make sure it was clean. You did the same with a bowl of cherries.

“They are so big!” Hyunjin gasped next to you, almost done peeling the pear.

“You want to try one?” You offered, taking one strawberry from the bowl.

He nodded, putting down the pear and the knife, standing close to you, then opened his mouth to let you feed it to him.

You put the strawberry at the entrance of his mouth, it was rather too big for his mouth, you were about to ask him if he wanted you to cut it in half first, but Hyunjin had already bitten half of it.

He started chewing on it, then winced.

“It’s a bit sour!” He grumbled with his nose scrunched.

“Really?” You shoved the remaining piece of strawberry into your mouth. It was indeed a bit sour but not the kind that you couldn’t handle.

Hyunjin suddenly struck with an idea, “I think I know how we can make this taste even sweeter,” he said with eyes staring at you with a mischievous grin on his face.

Your eyes widened in curiosity, “How?”

“We do it like this,” his hand reached the back of your neck, slowly bringing your face close to him, then he pressed his lips on you.

He softly sucked your lips from one corner to another, and you could taste the faint flavor of strawberry on his mouth, just exactly how you would describe the taste of his plush, red lips.

You parted your mouth open, letting him taste you more and more as you tasted his. The sourness was long forgotten, all you could taste were his lips and the never-ending softness of his lips on you. The kiss was tender and sweet, you’d be lying if it didn’t make you feel the slightest bit of lightheaded, you were scared that you’d be addicted to it, or maybe you already were.

He pulled away slowly, letting out the most beautiful sigh you ever heard.

“Taste good, right?” He asked as he looked down at you.

You licked your lower lip, taking in whatever taste of his lips left on yours, then sheepishly nodded at him.

Hyunjin seemed satisfied with your reaction. He then turned his attention back to his pear.

You pulled another plastic bag of cherries, it surprised you how you could still function after what happened a few minutes ago, how it played like a spur of the moment thing, deep down, you know well enough the effect would linger on.

As your mind was busy trying to wrap your head around the fact that you just had a quick hot make-out with Hyunjin, you accidentally pulled another bag of baby carrots, an idea flashed to your mind.

You turned around to face him, “How about this?”

He turned and found you with a baby carrot between your teeth, “What are you doing?”

“Who knows it will taste better…” you talked and trying not to lose the grip of the baby carrot.

He grimaced, almost disgusted at the sight of his least favorite vegetable.

You approached him, still with the carrot between your teeth.

He puts his hands on your elbow, maintaining a space between you and him, tried to stop you from coming near him.

“Baby, don’t cross the line!” He warned you.

“Why? Let’s just try!” you were closing in on him, almost losing the carrot as you giggled your way to him.

“Baby, no!!!” He screeched, slightly panicked.

As much as you were having so much fun riled him up, you didn’t want to drive him further up the wall. You relented, broke down laughing, then threw the baby carrot into the sink.

Hyunjin glared at you, his lower lip jutting out, making the cutest pout you had ever seen on him.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it,” you said, biting your lip to suppress you from bursting into another series of laughter.

“Don’t you ever do that again!” He warned you, eyes shot you death stares.

You grabbed the sleeve of his shirt to pull him close to you, “Okay, I’m sorry.” You apologized once again.

“You’re in so much trouble for that!” He nagged but didn’t resist when you tried to pull him into a hug.

You put both of your hands around his neck, leaning in to kiss him, but he stopped you.

Jerking his head back, he asked, “What are you doing?”

You were taken aback but also afraid you might read the signal wrong and that he was still mad at you.

“I’m not going to kiss you with your mouth tasting like a carrot.” He grumbled.

“Oh!” You exclaimed.

Hyunjin dragged the bowl filled with strawberries, “Here, have a strawberry!”

You shook your head, “No, I want cherries, please!”

His long arm reached for the bowl of cherries, then dragged it close with his fingers and took one by its stem. You opened your mouth and tilted your head slightly upward as Hyunjin lowered the cherry into your mouth, and caught it between your teeth with the stem sticking out of your mouth.

One thing that you like the most about Hyunjin is that he’s very intuitive to your needs. That includes when you needed his touch the most.

Hyunjin caught the end of the stem with his teeth and pulled it off of the cherry, spat it out somewhere onto the floor.

You bit the cherry and popped it, feeling the burst of sweetness inside your mouth.

“Oh, the cherry tastes so good!” You exclaimed between your chews.

Hyunjin licked his lower lip, “oh yeah, I bet!”

He smirked before leaning in and placing his lips on you, prying your mouth open with his tongue. His hot, slick tongue slipped it in and out of your mouth, tasting the fruit juice in kitten licks.

“Keep it open for me, baby!” he hummed into you, hand firmly gripping the back of your head, keeping you still at his mercy.

You obeyed, keeping your head tipped back with your mouth open as he kissed you deeper, your saliva and his mixed inside your mouth, pooling out of the corner of your mouth.

His hands pressing the side of your body, his hips bucking in on you while your hands were on his hair, filling the spaces between your fingers with the soft strands of his hair, you knew how much he likes it when you do that.

He drew back, sparing an inch away from your mouth.

“Swallow it all for me,” he ordered, his voice hoarse and sultry.

You closed your mouth and slowly swallowed everything in one big gulp.

He moaned as he intensely watched you obeyed his words without questions. He’s not big on dominating, but that doesn’t mean he does not enjoy seeing you obeyed him like a well-behaved girl.

He placed slobbering kisses along your lips, “so sweet, so beautiful!” he praised you, gave you another peck on the lips, then pulled back completely, half panting and catching his breath at once.

Resting your forehead against his chin, you didn’t bother wiping the wet trails of his kisses on your lips. You wanted to keep the taste of him on you.

Hyunjin removed his hand from your side, softly rubbing the side of your face.

Like a needy girl you were, you tipped your head to the side, so your cheek rested on his palm. Hyunjin buried his head onto your exposed neck, you could feel his smile on your skin as he ran his lips along the delicate skin of your neck and up to that soft spot behind your ear.

“Now, I wonder if it tastes sweet right here too.” He whispered, lips gently grazing your lobe as chills ran down your spine.

You squirmed against his body, gripping the end of the counter like it was a lifeline.

"Hyunjin..." you called him out, sultry and full of neediness.

He placed his hands on each side of your waist and in one swift move, lifted you, then sat you on the kitchen counter.

You couldn't escape his intense gazes when you were on the same eye level with him, feeling so caught in the game you started yourself.

Hyunjin's hand reached for another strawberry from the bowl, bit it, and you watched as he chewed on it while his eyes stared straight at you.

He slightly tilted his head, chin jutted at you, and his eyes sharply condescendingly looking into you.

And you felt challenged to look him back in the eyes.

He took the half-bitten strawberry and glided it over your lips, wetting it with the juice.

Hyunjin didn't waste time putting his lips on yours to taste them, gently licked the juice by swiping his tongue over your lips, then teasingly, bit your lower lip before letting it go.

You lowly gasped, a hand flew to the front of his t-shirt and fisted it in your hand.

Instead of pushing him, you pulled him closer, wanting more of that intoxicating kisses.

He kindly did, kissing you so hard, all teeth and tongue clashing in your mouth.

He ran his hands down your side and moved them to your chest to feel your breasts through the clothes. An idea flashed through his mind, he broke the kiss and tugged the hem of your blouse.

You shot him a puzzled look, but he answered it with a sly grin, pulled your blouse off, then tossed the piece of clothing away.

Hyunjin went to kiss your neck right away, and your eyes kept closing to feel his tongue faintly licking the thin skin, latched his mouth on it to make a mark.

All the while, one of his hands made its way to unclasp your bra, and once it opened, he roughly took it off of you.

You covered your chest with your hands, suddenly aware of how exposed you were, sitting on the kitchen counter half-naked.

He glared at you.

And you glared back at him.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, "I want to taste if they're just as sweet," he seductively said.

"It's only fair if you take it off too," you whispered back.

He withdrew himself, a lopsided grin played on his face, and a hand reached for the back collar of his t-shirt, seamlessly taking it off in one move.

"It's fair, now," he put his hands on each side of you on the counter and leaned forward, his face only inches away from you.

You slowly put your hands down and put them on his chest, then trailed the outline of his abs, smooth and firm under your touch.

You leaned in to softly placed a light kiss on his neck and saw his eyes fluttering shut when you did that, gave you an idea to place a trail of light kisses down the column of his throat, then giggled when you caught a low moan escaping his mouth.

"You like that, baby?" You asked him.

He took a deep breath, "you drive me crazy,"

He crashed his lips with yours again and pulled you closer leaving no gap between you, your breasts squashed between your chests.

He kissed you so deep, forcing you to lean back on the counter, propped your hands behind you while you kept trying to keep up with his haste kisses.

But he dragged his mouth down your neck and chest, softly humming on your skin as he put a hand on your breast.

You like his hands so much, even better, his hands on you. His hand perfectly cupped your breast, his slender fingers played with the hardening bud, fingertips lightly circling it, making you squirm.

Hyunjin stood before you again, taking one more strawberry out of the bowl and feeding it to you.

"Take a bite!" He ordered.

You complied, taking a small bite of it and a drop of its juice dripping down your sternum, he voluntarily licking it clean for you.

Hyunjin put the half-eaten strawberry on your nipple and smeared the juice on it, and your goosebumps raised the whole time you were watching it because you already knew what would he do next.

He licked his plush, red lips, then put them on your glistening wet nipple.

Your mouth parted open, watching him collect the strawberry juice with his slick tongue, then took your breast into his mouth, softly sucking and nibbling on it.

"So sweet, baby, so so sweet," he murmured.

Once he had done, he ate the rest of the strawberry and took your other nipple, doing the same deed but this time, he tugged your nipple between his teeth with his tongue lightly tapping on it, making you continuously moan.

Hyunjin got so aroused looking at you completely enjoying it with your head tilted up, moaning his name out of pleasure.

He didn't need to look down to know that his cock got so hard that his jeans tightened around the crotch.

He lifted both of your knees, "keep these up," he told you.

You obeyed without questions, especially looking at how his eyes darted to your clothed cunt.

His hand flung to it, gently rubbed on it, and he could feel it damp with your arousal.

"I don't have to taste it to know it's sweet," he told you.

You stifled a nod, listening to his quick breathing with every stroke of his hand on your heating core.

"But you can always have a taste if you want," your voice low and sultry.

He smiled at you despite the tension thickening in the room.

"Maybe I should get a taste," he put your underwear to the side and exposed your drenched core to him.

His eyes widened, tempted, enticed yet his hand reached out for another strawberry in the bowl and took one.

What he did next was beyond your wildest fantasy, he ran the strawberry down your slit to smear your essence on it. He purposely circled your clit with it while watching your reactions.

Without any hesitancy, he shoved the strawberry into your mouth and licked his fingers after.

That was the most bizarre thing a guy ever did to you but at the same time, arousing you on a whole new level.

"So..." he dragged his word, "sweet," he enunciated the word so slowly to emphasize how much he enjoyed it.

He collected the juice leaking out of the corner of his mouth, then shoved it back into his mouth.

He leaned forward again, grazing the tip of his nose on your cheek, "Now that I got the taste of it, I want the whole of it," he said to you.

You spread your legs for him, "What's stopping you?"

And he triumphantly smiled.

You helped him work open his jeans, unzipped his fly in excitement, and he pulled it enough to let his cock out of its confine.

His cock was tumescent, red like all the blood rushed to it, erected with so much desire.

Even his long slender fingers couldn't contain his hard-on anymore, he wanted you so bad, and it shows.

You touched the tip of his cock with a bead of pearly white of his precum leaking out of it, you smeared it all over his length with your thumb, and once you finished, licked your thumb clean.

"You know how to make me want more," he cooed.

You smiled at his compliment, faintly biting your lower lip in anticipation as he teased your entrance with his cock.

You kept your legs by holding them up with your hands, looking down at how he ran his cock up and down, around your cunt until he couldn't take it anymore, finally pushing his length in so slowly.

So slowly to feel every inch of your velvety walls welcoming him, engulfing his length in unadulterated pleasure that he couldn't get anywhere, with anyone else but you.

He stopped midway, withdrew just enough, then pushed inside again until he fully bottomed out inside you, making you both letting out satisfied groans.

He put your legs around his waist and drew you closer, leaving no gap between your bodies.

He kept groaning into your ear, whispering praises as he began moving, thrusting into you.

"I got the ripest, juiciest strawberry here," he teased you, his words dancing around in your head as if he wasn't fucking you dumb at that moment.

One hand gripped your thigh so hard you were sure his nails would leave crescent marks while the other, resting on the arch of your back to keep you close to him, making sure you took each of his hard thrusts well.

You put your hands around his neck as he quickened the pace, holding on to him as you struggled to keep up with him with moans spilling out of your mouth.

"Baby, you feel so good," he softly spoke, in contrast to the rough, restless pounding he was doing to you.

You couldn't form a coherent sentence to answer him, you kissed him instead, slobbering wet kisses on his mouth as you broke into a sob, climaxing right at that moment.

Your body shook against him, yet it didn't stop him from keep going, fucking you hard and keeping you steady on the counter, eyes switching between watching your face and his cock slipping in and out of you.

It was your turn to rile him up, leaning back on the counter to touch yourself, pinching your nipples, kneading on your breasts, and calling out his names out of lust.

"You're going to cum inside me, right, baby?" You asked him, batting your eyelash at him.

His eyes screwed shut, and he used the remaining strength inside him to thrust you even harder sending you jolted on the counter, you cried out in pleasure.

He stifled a few hard thrusts to finally cum inside you, keeping it inside to fill you with his cum with a hand rubbing your thigh.

He pulled out when he deemed he had milked every drop of his cum inside you. His eyes lingered on your cunt, and a few seconds later, his milky white cum leaked out of you.

The view always satisfied him in an inexplicably way.

"I want to taste you too," you said out of the blue.

Hyunjin watched as you took a strawberry from the bowl and dabbed it with his cum, without hesitation shoved it whole into your mouth.

Hyunjin believed his cock just twitched by the lewd scene that he, himself, never dared to dream of.

He muttered curses under his breath, eyes couldn't look away at how you chewed on the fruit mixed with his cum.

He pulled you by your neck, kissing you, prying open your mouth with his tongue to taste you, the strawberry, his cum, your cum, and everything in between.

Everything mixed into one wild concoction like no other.

It was sweet through and through.

He let go, lips lingering on yours with a string of saliva connected in between, "baby,"

"Yes,"

"Baby," he breathlessly called you again.

You cupped his face, "yes, baby?"

"You taste so sweet. I think once is not enough," he said.

You softly laughed and looked at him through your lashes, “What's stopping you?"

Support my blog by kindly reblog or tip me on my ko-fi!

taglist: @marvelsleehan @y0urperfect @miixsh @blackonblackwaves @jisungsleftcheek @zaynlikfalls @leeknowrecord @a-hyunjinshairband @cloudyybinin @callanhead317 @jisungsbff01 @bigsobforskz @a-katsukitty @dearalice @gabbunnyy @lixhues @yubinism @abiaswreck @whatudowhennooneseesyou @marvelobsessedperson @elvelour @phobia0325 @crimesscene @sunggasm @channies-luv @hyunelixies @hyunskkhami @f0siq @yangjeongincertifiedsimp @dontsd @pinkdragonwings21 @hyunjun-jpeg @whitecastles @eurphoricxbts @tokyolhtl @drhsthl @st4yr4cha @chanslittlegirl @francine-xi-xxvi-xcv @jeyelleohe @miumuam @hoshis-hoe @rinocats @yunho-leeknow @whateveerx @xuxibelle @tatumadams19 @nightrayseishina @omgheyitsme @littlelillyjs @lilithlilu @hyunee1 @avyskai @midnightchanis @wniektty @felbok @maddywillbeatcassiesass @kpopaddicted05 @kosmoskookie @catlixxie @kittykatvenom @kylurrr @zizis-world12 @tanyas97

[beckwritesfiction]

Can you do something with a virgin!reader x rhett abbott from outer range? Maybe they went to high school together and she's the preacher's daughter. He could assume she's not as innocent as she was back then, but he finds out that's not the case after they go on a date and he's ready to take her home? Bonus points if she's been saving herself for marriage but she can't stop herself once she's all worked up with him in his truck?

I hope this covered all the bases! Thanks for the request and I really hope you like it. My asks are open if anyone wants to request anything else.

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Rating: 18+ only! Minor, please do not interact with this post.

Warnings: mentions of religion, semi-public sex, drinking, protected PIV, oral (female receiving), loss of virginity,

a/n: This is the first in-detail smut I've written since like 2014 so please go easy on me.

There wasn’t much that surprised you in town anymore.  You’d been there your entire life.  Every day felt the same, and you liked the routine you fell into.  You didn’t expect that Sunday to be any different than the last.  The first unusual thing was Rhett Abbott showing up with his mother to church.  He looked a little roughed up.  His hair could’ve probably been combed, and he wasn’t wearing anything that resembled church shoes, but you greeted him like you greeted everyone else.  It had been so long since you went to church that he looked surprised when you were by the steps, a few paces away from your father.  He was deep in conversation with someone who had recently moved to town, so he wasn’t paying that much attention to you.  

“Rhett,” he greeted him.  “It’s nice to see you here.”

He wouldn’t ever say he forgot about you, but it wasn’t like you’d spoken much since graduation.  The biggest thing he remembered about you was that you never seemed to have time for anyone.  Any boy that tried anything would leave disappointed.  Some tried hard to be the one that got the preacher’s daughter to give it up for them, but every single one failed. Unlike then, your neckline was a little less modest.  Even though there was a jean jacket over your dress, it was a little low cut.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, unsure of what else to ask.  He wasn’t asking what he really wanted to, after all.  He wanted to know what you’d gotten up to, and why he never saw you in town.  Your hands were bare, except for the light yellow nail polish on her nails.  No ring.  He wanted so badly to know if that meant you were still a virgin.  There was no way, especially not since you were nearing your mid-twenties.  Everyone had sex by then.  

Your smile was ever-present, it seemed, but it brightened a little at his question.  “Pretty good.  Keepin’ busy here, especially with the market we’re settin’ up.”

“Market?” he asked.

“For the local farmers.  Since the old outpost buildin’ burned down we haven’t had a farmer’s market.  Daddy wanted me to take some initiative here, and I thought that sounded like somethin’ the town would love.  Who wouldn’t want some fresh watermelon on a hot day like this?”

“I’ll let my mom know when I find her.  She’d be the one lookin’ for somethin’ like that.”

“I made some pies to sell, if you’re interested.  Not everyone who comes’s gotta be there for the produce.  Think Missus Murry’s makin’ her famous bundt cakes, too.”

You were either just really friendly, or you wanted to keep talking to him.  Anyone who thought they’d get to greet you just moved on to your mother.  

“You said it’s right after this?” he asked.

“Oh, no.  It’s at three.”

At three, he was there with his mother, and he tried to talk himself down from saying something to you when they eventually worked their way through the mazes of tables, tents, and tailgates to get you.  You sat with your older brother and his wife, who were spreading God’s word to anyone that would listen, waiting for someone to come and talk to you.  

Your conversations about pie were short-lived.  Rhett even cut you off, lowering his voice so only you could hear.  “Are you doin’ anything later?”

You were taken aback, but you were honest.  “No, I’m not.”

“Would you wanna get dinner?  We could catch up?  Six years is a long time to go without talkin’.”

Your smile was different than it had been all day as he looked around, as if you didn’t want anybody to hear.  “You wanna go out with me?”

He wasn’t sure if he would go that far.  That’s why he clarified.  “Pretty girl like you?  Of course.  Don’t think one date would hurt you, would it?”

“Yeah.  I’d like that.”  You’d heard the comments your mother made; how confused she was about how a kid that used to be so sweet could stray so far from the Lord.  You didn’t understand what she meant, but your mother elaborated, disgusted as she explained the town gossip.  Anyone who went out with that many girls wasn’t looking for someone to spend the rest of his life with, or to serve God with.  Especially not with how much and how often he was hanging around at the bars in town.  You didn’t like to judge people, so you didn’t assume the date would be anything other than a date.  And it was.  At first.

You only had two drinks, stretching them out over the two hours that you sat at the booth in the corner of the bar.  Drinking wasn’t something you normally did because your family didn’t.  He noticed this, and slowed down on ordering more for himself.  The conversation was casual, and he let you talk as much as you wanted; which you did a lot, feeling like you needed to seem more interesting if you wanted the date to go well.  He didn’t have as detailed answers to your questions as you did to his, but you didn’t mind.  He had never been someone to say much.  

“You know that’s what my daddy did, before he found God?”

“Bull ridin’?” Rhett asked, knowing that had to be the only reason she’d pivot to that after coaxing out every detail of his so far underwhelming career.  

You nodded.  “He hit his head so hard on one of the railin’; knocked him right out.  Said he saw this light and, when he woke up, someone said ‘Jesus Christ,’ like they were relieved.  He took that as a sign.  Retired after that circuit, started goin’ to church.  That’s how he met my mama.  It all goes back to hittin’ his head  If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t’ve found God, met my mama, or had me and my brothers.”

“Then he would’ve just been stuck being a professional bull rider, and that’d just be sad, wouldn’t it?” Rhett asked, mostly as a joke.  But he knew that was how some people saw him.

You laughed, shaking your head gently.  “What’s sad about what you do?  I think you’re brave.  I’d never last long doin’ what you do.  Besides, it’s better when he tells it.  You should have dinner with us one night.  He’ll tell you all kinds of stories.”

There were so many other things he’d rather do than talk about God with your family, but he didn’t want to make you feel bad.  He deflected with a joke.  “Are you tellin’ me you wanna take me home to your family?”

Your face flushed, especially when he leaned across the table the way he did.  “I like talkin’ to you.  Why wouldn’t I?  Comin’ out with you without you meetin’ my daddy’s not a great start, but he’s forgvin’.”

When the topic of church and the Lord wasn’t on the table, he felt like the conversation flowed easily.  And the way you flirted with him, innocent as it was, made him want to leave sooner rather than later.  When he offered to take you home, you agreed, knowing you shouldn’t stay out too late.  It was already ten o’clock.

There were so many things he did that made you feel like you needed to go outside and get some fresh air.  If your head wasn’t spinning, your eyes felt heavy, or you felt a little hot. It wasn’t a heat you could put your finger on.  It was more internal, spreading through you evenly, flowing like your blood did.

He opened the door for you, taking your hand before you stepped up into his truck.  It was when he got in himself that he hesitated before starting the car.  He wanted to talk, and you thought it was time to tell him how much fun you had.

“Thanks for askin’ me out.  I haven’t been on a date in a while.  Especially not one like this, it was fun.  I like talkin’ to you a lot.”

He brushed his hand against your cheek before moving it to your hair, feeling you tense.  At first he thought you didn’t want to kiss him, but then you did, and quite eagerly.  The sleeve of your dress fell down as you leaned in, moving as close as you could get to him on the bench seat. He only kissed you harder, matching your energy until he reached for your arm, pushing you down against the seat until you felt the fabric on your exposed shoulders.  He kept kissing you, even jerking you down by your hips so your head wasn’t hitting the door.  The movement of your body made him gasp, and you liked it.  

Just like you liked the way he kissed your neck, moving down your body slowly until he got to your chest.  He pulled both your sleeve and your bra strap down, kissing the parts of you that weren’t exposed before that.  There was no denying that you liked it, even if you wanted to.  He could tell by the way you sighed.

His hand against your leg only made you feel even more like you could combust.  Every place he touched you where he hadn’t before felt like such a rush.  When he lifted the hem of your skirt, you tried hard to relax.  Just because he was doing that didn’t mean you were going to go all the way.  You were lying to yourself, and you knew it, but kissing him felt so good that you couldn’t stop.  You weren’t there for that reason, mostly because of a promise you made to save yourself for marriage when you were younger, but the idea of figuring out the appeal of Rhett Abbott.

Then his hand brushed against the fabric between your legs, and you panicked a little.  Even as this happened, you accepted that whatever he was going to do, you wanted it.  “Will it hurt?”  you asked suddenly, grabbing his wrist and stopping him.

“What?” he asked, frowning gently at your question.  Then he realized something.  You looked so dazed so often, so desperate for affection because you weren’t used to it.  “You’ve never…done anything before at all?”

You shook your head, your chest rising and falling with anticipation.  Your grip on his wrist tightened out of fear that he would move away from you and not consider going through with it after all.  

“It’s fine, I just don’t wanna do it here.”  That made you release his hand.  You fixed the top of your dress, not realizing how exposed you were until then.  

The wooded area he took you to was one you’d never been to before.  You thought maybe it was where someone would take you if they wanted to kill you without anyone hearing your screams.  But if he was going to kill you, he wouldn’t have put a blanket in the bed of his truck that he kept beneath his seat.

When he helped you in, getting in after you, he wasted no time kissing you again.  It went on for what felt like ever, but you liked every second of it; feeling him move his hands from one spot to another until eventually it was back between your legs again.  Before he could do what he planned, you decided you were too impatient.

“I want you to make love to me,” you sighed. The way he wrapped your legs around his waist when he started kissing you again made it harder for you to wait.  You wanted to know what it was like, and his hips pressing against yours made you feel weak.

“I’ll do somethin’, but I can’t do that.”

“Why not?  Even if it’s just once.”

“Makin’ love and havin’ sex are very different things.”

You shifted a little beneath him.  You didn’t like that word.  “Makin’ love sounds sweeter, doesn’t it?  Sex sounds so…degrading, doesn’t it?”

“You don’t think there’s a worse word for that?”

“Like?” you asked.  He could see in your eyes you really had no idea what could be wrose than the term sex.  

“I wanted to say I’ll fuck you, not make love, but I didn’t.  Thought you’d like me sayin’ sex over that; you bein’ so proper and all.”  You would’ve felt insecure at this, but he brushed his hand against your cheek, and looked at you affectionately as he said it.  You thought about this for a second, finding the word jarring, but liking how it sounded when he said it.  “But whatever you call it, I’ll do it with you.  And I’ll be gentle until you don’t want me to be anymore.”

“I’d rather you be gentle,” you said, not sure what would prompt someone to want anything but that.  

After reaching into his pocket to get a condom, he noticed how closely you watched what he was doing.  The way your hair spread out beneath you, and how you stopped fixing your dress.  You let it ride up around your waist, and didn’t fix the sleeve or your bra strap that had either been pushed down by him, or fallen down.

He went to undo his belt, then looked down at you.  “Go ahead.”  You did, tentative at first.  When your hands were shaking too badly to undo his jeans, he took over.  “Lay back down.”  He kissed you once again while he put the condom on, kissing down to your neck before he aligned himself.  It was slow, like he promised, and uncomfortable at first.  But the way he went back to your neck relaxed you.

Not long after, you understood what he meant, why he offered to be gentle until you didn't want him to be anymore.  What he was doing felt good, but now you wanted more.  You didn’t know how to ask for what you wanted, or even what it would be like after you did.  Then, after feeling his fingers threaten to dig into your hips even harder, the word came back to you.  Fuck.  You just knew you liked how it sounded, and that felt like enough.

“Fuck me,” you breathed, not being able to say it fast enough.  The last thing you thought he would do was stop.  His breathing was heavy, his expression only hinting at him being pleased with your word choice.  

“What do you want me to do?”

“Fuck me,” you repeated.  

“Don’t you have any manners?”

“Please fuck me,” you replied with ease, having no issue amending your initial request.  You were so desperate to know what it would entail, and for him to move once again, that you were sure you’d say anything it took.  When he pulled out of you, you nearly whined.  This was the opposite of what you wanted, and he could see it written on your face.

“Get up and turn over.”

There was a moment of hesitation before you managed to ask, “Why?”

“Trust me.  If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.  Get on your hands and knees.  I’ll walk you through it.”

You were tense when you listened to him, suddenly insecure about the width of your hips and the size of your ass.  When he put a hand on your hip, you winced a little.  It made him get closer to you again, but his other hand rested against your shoulder.  “Relax.  I’ll go slow again until you tell me you want more.”

“Until I want you to fuck me?” you repeated, wanting him to say the word again.

He smiled, moving his hand from your shoulder down to your lower back.  “‘Til you want me to fuck you, yes.” Then he pushed down on your back, urging you against the bed of his truck.  It was hard against your knees, even with the blanket there.  “Turn your face to the side, put your arms out in front of you, like you’re stretchin’”

You did, liking how your back felt when you did it.  You arched it a little, not realizing it was exactly what he wanted.  He had himself in his hand again, wanting to rush because of how hard he was, but resisting because of the promise he made you.  “You ready?”

“Go slow,” you reminded him.  He did, not being subtle about how good it felt to be inside you again.  You were even surprised at how different it was than the first time.  It just felt good, even right away.  Your sounds of satisfaction mixed with his, only made your heart race faster.  His promise was that it would feel good for you, but it sounded like he liked it just as much.

“Fuck,” he sighed as he repositoned his hands against your hips, moving again when you leaned back a little, clearly wanting more.  The very word made you weak, especially when he said it.  

“Fuck me.”  It was even more desperate.

“You forget your manners again?”

“Please.”

He didn’t stop like he did before, even though he usually would’ve.  You were so tight, and he couldn’t stop himself.  The fact that he was still only moving so slow was already killing him.  “Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”  It sounded more like a cry now, your back arching harder like that was going to do anything.  That made it even better for him when he finally picked up the pace.  His vision even felt blurred, feeling how your body reacted, and how hot you felt around him.  He only got more caught up in the feeling as the moments passed, with each thrust taking your breath away.  Your hand gripped the blanket beneath you, your knuckles white.  “Harder.”  A few moments passed, and you added.  “Harder, please.”  His hips finally moved faster, and your cries only made it harder for him to give you what you wanted.  If he continued the way he was, it would be over.  He slowed, not telling you why, and trying to catch his breath.

You looked back at him, propping yourself up on your forearm.  “What’s wrong?”

“Sit up,” he said, and you did.  He pulled your dress down, and unclasped your bra.  He didn’t have to tell you to take your arms out of the sleeves.  He was inside of you again the moment you laid down, feeling he had a better chance of lasting longer.  This wasn’t the case at all.  You were so vocal, he couldn’t stop himself like he did before.  His fingers dug into your hips, making you moan.  That was enough to make him come hard, his thrusts getting sloppier with every passing second.  He hadn’t been vocal until then, and you know that whatever he felt was all-consuming.  

When he was beside you, breathless, you rolled over onto your side, running your hand down his arm.  You didn’t want it to end.

“Is that why people are so tempted?” you asked, eyes fixed on him.  He’d completely forgotten about your inexperience, and he knew you wanted more from him, even if you didn’t fully know what that was.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never even touched yourself?”  You averted your eyes, embarrassed.  “Look at me.”  You did.  “I’m not makin’ fun of you, I just can’t believe it.  You’re so innocent, so…”

“Clueless.”

“Maybe, but you don’t have to stay that way.”  He was moving between your legs again, running his hands against your legs until he was pushing them apart.  “Lay back.”

“We’re doing it again?”

He couldn't help but smile.  “Trust me.  If you liked me fucking you, you’ll like this.”  There it was again.  It made you weak enough, inadvertently relaxing you and overshadowing your doubt.  He began working his tongue between your legs, spreading them farther apart the less tense you got.  He thought you were so tense all the time not just because you were nervous, but because you weren't getting laid.  

The natural way your hand went to his head, and how your fingers were in his hair made him consider doing this with you again.  Among other reasons, but that sealed the deal.  That, and you were already so close and he’d spent so little time on you.  He helped you as he held your hips down, knowing you were about to experience something you never had before.

The moans and gasps, as hot as they were, he had already grown used to.  It was the sudden way you said his name that told him you were fighting it.  He reached one hand up, caressing your side.  You knew it meant he wanted you to relax and, when you did, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.  The tensions that had gathered inside you loosed, and a feeling like nothing you’d ever felt before washed over you.  You were gasping when you realized you’d forgotten to breathe.  Rhett was still between your legs, and stayed there until he thought you were finally done.  

When he was behind you again, fixing your dress from where it was gathered around your waist, holding it against your stomach as he wrapped his arm around you.  He moved your hair from where it fell in your face, tucking it behind your ear.  

“You forget how to speak?” he asked, his tone playful and quiet against your ear.

You nodded, pulling your dress up above your chest again, but not putting your arms through the sleeves.  It took a few more moments of catching your breath before you could find the right words to say.  Your entire body was buzzing, and alive in a way it had never been before.  “Thank you,” was all you could think to say.

“I’ve never had someone thank me before,” he mused.

The embarrassment was the only thing that gave you the strength to roll over so you were facing him again.  “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.  This kinda thing clouds your mind.  That’s why people have no self control, and they sin left and right.”

A hand found her face, and it was then that she realized how hot she was.  “Don’t remind me.  I can’t believe I just did that.”

“But you don’t regret it?”

“No.  I didn’t even know that’s what that would be like.  That’s probably why they don’t really tell you what it is.”  He offered a small smile, and you continued.  “I should really get home.”

“You really had no idea?” he asked.

“Daddy doesn’t even know how Jesus would feel about the internet.  We really only use it for things like recipes and directions, if we have to use it at all.”

Rhett pondered this, not because he was trying to guess how Jesus would feel about the internet, but because he was beginning to feel like he’d just corrupted your mind.  But he decided to wait and see if you came to him again, or if you thought you could go on living your life the way you did before you knew what sex was like.  He didn’t think you could.

[probieravi]

Freebie: “I really can’t take you places, can I?” (Fondly, of course)

“I really can’t take you places, can I?”

Eddie sends him a withering glare from next to him. He stops grumbling under his breath, though, which was kind of Buck’s goal; not that Buck really minded, anyway. Because Eddie’s here with him, at ass-crack in the morning, even though it’s their day off and last night he kept talking about sleeping in; he’s here, with the early morning light cutting across his face all pretty, turning slivers of his light blue sweater golden, and if they weren’t in the middle of the line for the farmer’s market, Buck would be tempted to kiss him.

Actually—

He leans forward, fitting his lips to the hinge of Eddie’s jaw; it’s a whisper of a kiss, something tame and gentle, but he feels Eddie shiver all the same.

“I don’t get why we couldn’t come at ten like usual,” Eddie grouses, leaning into Buck’s space. He tucks his hand into the kangaroo pocket of Buck’s hoodie, chin resting on his shoulder.

Visits to the farmer’s market have been commonplace since Buck moved in a few months ago; any Sunday they’re not working, they come here and get fresh vegetables, fresh bread, sample those little sausages Eddie pretends to hate. Inexplicably, they’ll always leave with a new candle (last time it was called Sunflower Saturdays) and something for Christopher (he’s been going through a fruit phase; they picked up a bunch of Christmas oranges he loved last time they were here, plus a cactus fruit he was kind of obsessed with), and probably a bottle of weird, natural wine that Buck wants to try. It’s routine, and it’s nice, but today is—special.

“Because if we came at ten,” Buck says, letting Eddie lean his full weight against him, “they’d be out of the honey.”

“The honey,” Eddie echoes. Buck glances down; his eyes are closed, dark eyelashes fanning across his face. “They sell honey at Trader Joe’s.”

“Ah,” Buck murmurs, hand drifting to wrap around Eddie’s waist. He tucks it beneath the hem of Eddie’s sweater, swiping his thumb along his bare skin. “Not this honey.”

“He’s right, you know,” the woman in front of them says, turning around. She’s got bright red hair and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses that make her eyes seem extra big. “This is special honey.”

“Special honey,” Eddie repeats. “Honey is honey is honey, or whatever.”

“Not this honey,” Buck and the woman say together. Eddie makes an unbecoming noise under his breath.

Eventually, the doors to the market open, and everyone in line—about a hundred people, if Buck had to guess—begin to shuffle inside. Some people make a beeline right for the coffee stands—Eddie almost does, would if Buck wasn’t still wrapped around him—and he hears someone shout, distantly, “Don’t trample anyone!”

It’s—nice. It’s domestic, and lovely, and Buck is so in fucking love with his life that he could choke on it.

They make their way to the honey booth quickly—Buck is basically dragging Eddie, if he’s being honest—and find another line there; this one is much shorter, only about ten people, but Buck starts bouncing on his toes anyway, eager and nervous and—

“Baby,” Eddie says, voice soothing, “it’s just honey.”

“You’re just honey,” Buck replies nonsensically. Eddie raises and eyebrow at him; Buck kisses the arch of it. “I just really want this honey.”

“It’s just honey,” Eddie repeats.

“It’s special lavender honey,” Buck corrects. He’s quiet for a long moment, and then he sighs. “It’s not about the honey, really.”

“Oh, yeah, I knew that,” Eddie says. “I wasn’t sure if you did, though.”

“I just—it’s almost been a year.” A year since they got together; since they said fuck it and stopped tiptoeing around the feelings that have been building between them for ages. A year since Buck decided he was allowed to have something good, for once. Something great.

“Best year of my life,” Eddie says, so fucking earnest that something in Buck’s chest squeezes tight. “And whatever you’re thinking—”

“It’s not self-deprecating,” Buck’s quick to assure. “Or at least, not that self-deprecating. I just want our anniversary to be perfect, you know?”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, moving to stand in front of Buck, uttering a little pardon me when he bumps into the man in front of them. Once he’s in front of him, Eddie puts his hands on Buck’s shoulder, darting his eyes around until Buck meets them; it’s a familiar position, one from years ago. “Sweetheart,” he says again, “if it’s with you, it’s going to be perfect.”

“I know,” Buck murmurs, reaching up to cup Eddie’s elbows. “I know, I do, but you—come on, Eds. Don’t you think we deserve something special? After everything we’ve been through?”

“Buck, it’s all special.” Eddie grins, then, private and bright, and Buck wants to kiss him silly; wants to marry him. “Every little thing—waking up with you on my chest. Falling asleep curled around you. Making breakfast together. Being your partner at work. Those weird five-couple dates with the team. Barbecues at Bobby’s, and wine nights at Hen’s, and trips to the fucking zoo with Chris—all of it is special, because it’s with you. Because it’s us.”

Buck blinks back wetness in his eyes, mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. “That’s—that’s way too romantic for seven in the morning, Eddie.”

“What can I say?” Eddie says, leaning in until their foreheads are touching, noses brushing. “You bring out something in me, Buckley.” He kisses Buck then, chaste and warm, and Buck feels it right down to his toes that this is his life; his future. “Now,” Eddie says, pulling back a little. “Let’s get your dumb honey so we can go back to bed. You owe me for the early wake-up call.”

And Buck—Buck’s never been happier to owe Eddie anything.

send me a line of dialogue + i'll write a ficlet!