#it's not always sex either sometimes i just need to be a puppy who's doing laundry

[infectiouspiss]

can you list the pros and cons of puppy play?

pros:

-hehehe im puppy !!!! puppy puppy puppy yayyy!! yippeee yayyy yayyy!!!! puppy puppy puppy !!!!! yippee !

cons:

-have to go back to being human at some point

[hispg]

Baby boy

Pairings: Re2! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: Your coworker Leon always goes after you for advice, even on the most basic things, even if he doesn't need to.

However, you decided to make him understand your advice in a more... Incisive way.

Wc: 2.2k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, cockwarming, masturbation (M receiving), oral sex (M receiving), Sub! Leon, Dom! Reader, orgasm control/ denial,slightly praise/ degradation, a bit of dirty talk.

Leon was your coworker, sweet and kind. A lovely person to be around. It didn't take long for the two of you to bond, becoming almost inseparable.

He follows you around like a puppy, always on your tail, no matter where, he's always stuck with you. And the kind who always asks you before doing things.

Sometimes he doesn't even need to, but he likes to have your permission to do things, just as he always talked to you and asked for all kinds of advice, even asking for help with his studies.

You never really understood why, but you never complained either, his presence was always very welcome.

And that evening he was once again in your office, sitting in a chair in front of the computer while you explained a subject you had in common. It had become routine for him to sneak into your room late at night, just to have a chat with you whenever he could.

He was still in his uniform, staring intently at the slides on your computer. Even though you had already explained this subject to him last week, he came to ask you for a further explanation. You understood that he might be nervous about the police academy exams, but that much?

While you were explaining, it wasn't long before he was sitting comfortably in the chair you were using, with his legs wide open, on purpose. If he was being frank, the sound of your voice was enough to make him lose focus, it's not as if he was paying attention to anything you were saying. Blue eyes staring at you, watching the way your lips opened and closed, the way you looked so beautiful while you were focused on explaining things to him.

Of course it was a lie that he had come here to have you teach him this subject, he could have tried to study on his own. However, what fun would it be if it wasn't for you explaining it?

"Leon, my eyes are up here." You mutter, leaning on the table and crossing your arms, raising an eyebrow.

He coughed awkwardly, looking at you in confusion, "Eh, pardon me. Go on, I'm listening."

You scoffed, knowing full well that he hadn't paid attention to a word you'd said. The way his cock began to harden under his pants was a sign as clear as day.

You now perfectly confirmed why he was here. He needed some incisive teaching, something strict to learn from. A punishment, if you were bad enough to do it.

And you were.

"I know you're not paying attention." You whispered, running your fingers along his knee, stopping at his thigh.

It was enough for his breathing to fail and him to swallow. The poor thing got even harder with that simple touch. How pathetic could that sound?

"Uhm.. I'm sorry. I promise I will-," You didn't even let him finish speaking, you simply hovered your hand over his erection. Staring at him with a certain impudence in your eyes.

"Apologies are no use if you're not going to get better, Leon." Words that made him shudder, biting his lower lip to hold back any whimper that might escape his lips.

With your index finger you traced the size of his cock through his pants, making a point of maintaining eye contact during the process. His puppy eyes followed your every move, looking up at you with a sly expression.

"Take it out." You demanded flatly, crossing your arms and waiting for him to take off his pants.

And to your surprise he did, without any reluctance at all. He just undid his belt, lifted his hips and pulled down his pants and boxers in one swift movement. His fat cock sprang out at the same moment, the pink, swollen tip begging for your touch.

Poor guy, you'd be so mean.

"That's what you came here for, isn't it?" you asked, gripping the base of his cock tightly, and he whimpered like a little bitch at the same moment.

The way you felt his veins pulsing in your hands made you smile with a certain pity. How much did he want it? How depraved of touch was he to get hard just looking at you? What a silly little thing he was.

His hands rested on his thighs, as he tried to keep his breathing steady, "I wanted to see you." He says, looking at the work your hand was starting to do.

A sneer leaves your lips, and you rub your thumb over the tip of it, pressing your face against his. So close that his breath was hitting you.

"Missing me? What an ugly excuse, Leon." You purred, giving his jaw wet kisses. Slowly jerking him off.

The poor guy wasn't even in a state to protest, biting his lip to hold back the sly noises he was still trying to disguise. But he never could.

Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, moving up and down, making a point of suddenly increasing the pace, only to see him moan softly, roll his eyes back and look at you.

"I-I can?" He asked shyly, looking down at your breasts, his gaze undoubtedly hungry. He couldn't keep his hands off you, but today you wouldn't let him touch an inch of you without permission.

"No." You murmured with a shrug, kneeling in front of him. At the same moment, his eyes went wide, his breathing quickened. His focus was only on you, nothing else.

He was so obedient that you didn't even have to ask, he automatically spread his legs wider to accommodate you. Wide open for you to do whatever you wanted with him.

"Such a cute thing." You murmured with a mischievous smile, digging your nails gently into his thighs, watching him squirm and whimper with every touch.

He was so desperate, jerking his hips at you, wanting you to do something with his hard-on. Any touch would do.

You couldn't help yourself and let out a giggle, putting your hands on his hips to keep him in place, kissing and nibbling his thighs, licking and leaving a few marks here and there.

"Nhm, please..." He pleaded in a grunt, looking down at his lap. Poor thing was already leaking, pre cum dripping down his pink tip.

"How pathetic, are you going to cum with just those touches?" You murmured, licking the sticky liquid dripping from him, giving the head of his cock a light lick.

He moaned, loudly. Letting his head fall back, holding on tightly to the edges of the chair. He wanted you so much, so much he couldn't describe it.

His cock throbbing and twitching, he knew it wouldn't last long, not with you in front of him.

You could already see your own arousal rising, your panties starting to get soaked, and you found yourself humping nothing in search of some friction.

Without giving him any warning, you pressed your plump lips to his tip, making a point of wrapping your tongue around the sensitive part, trying to contain the naughty smile that appeared on your face.

Your fingers trailed down his inner thigh, down and down until you found his balls, massaging lightly, only to hear the dirty sounds he could no longer control.

"Ah-ah, holy shit!" He cries out, biting his lower lip hard, looking at you with piteous eyes. He wanted you so much. But wanting wasn't being able to.

And he started moaning even more when you put him all in your mouth, sucking his cock down to the base, your lips wrapped around his entire length, moving up and down, tongue curling and teasing him in every sensitive spot you could find.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head every time, hips moving upwards in desperation for your touch. His cheeks were so red that he couldn't hide the blush even if he tried very hard.

"Hmh.. I think I'm close." He groaned, opening his eyes to see you, biting his lip at the sight in front of him.

You were choking on his cock, saliva and cum running down the length of it. You couldn't deny it, for someone as baby-faced as him, he certainly had an impressive size.

You continued, even though you knew he was close to cumming, but then you stopped. As soon as you felt his hips jerking upwards in a deep thrust into your mouth, that's when you withdrew your hot lips from his cock. Seeing his sly, crying face, God, why did you have to be like that?

"Oh- Please, please!" He begged, looking at you with tear-streaked eyelids, tears that threatened to fall. He was so excited that he felt like the world around him had stopped.

You smiled at his pleas, looking him up and down. A devilish grin plastered across your face.

"What? Don't tell me you're going to cry." You teased him, sliding your hand under his uniform, squeezing and lightly scratching his chest.

"Fuck. Hell, let me cum..." another plea, and of course he could do it on his own. It wasn't as if you had tied his hands and prevented him from moving.

But he liked taking orders. He liked being treated like a little boy who obeyed every order he was given, he loved it.

Just as you saw his hands coming towards you, trying to grab you by the hips and pull you towards him.

"Hands off." You say, standing up once again.

He whimpers, looking at you slyly, asking for something. You wouldn't be mean to leave him in this state, would you?

"Well, since you weren't paying attention. Looks like I'm going to have to explain everything again." You said nonchalantly, taking no time to take off your clothes, standing naked in front of him.

He gasped, his lips parted as he looked you up and down, his imagination running wild.

And then you mounted him, rubbing your wetness against his tip, giving his lips a little kiss. And there went his hands again, gripping the seat of the chair tightly, so tightly that he could tear the padding if he wanted to.

"You're going to be quiet and listen to me, and I don't want you to cum. Understood?" You say seriously, staring at him as you sink onto his cock, warm, gummy walls nestling him.

"Yes... Yes ma'am." He says in a moan, holding his trembling thighs, taking deep breaths to contain himself. The way you welcomed him so well, how could he hold back like that?

He was a crying mess, staring at your naked figure on his lap, biting his lip and trying to keep his attention on your eyes. But he couldn't, all he did was look down. Seeing the way his cock was buried in you, so deep.

Your breasts swaying slightly as you gestured, your wetness making a mess of his thighs. God, he was fucked.

"I can't hold it." He murmured, moaning loudly and clenching the seat of the chair, holding his hips and avoiding thrusting into you.

You scoffed, holding him by the chin, "Mh? The pretty boy can't hold it? Mh? Dick throbbing so much he needs to empty into me?" You knew that dirty talk was his weak point, and you used it to your advantage.

He cries out, letting his head fall back a little. Unconsciously pushing against you. At least he was trying.

How long had you been explaining? It had been a good few minutes, but maybe he could hold out just a little longer.

You started grinding against him, pulling him into a sloppy kiss, letting your hands roam free over his abdomen, squeezing every bit you could find.

He was finished, not even muffling his sounds with your mouth helped. Your living room was echoing every dirty noise he made, so exciting.

"I want you to sing to me." You purred during the kiss, starting to ride him.

You had no pity, you started doing it fast and deep, listening to his flesh hit yours. Skin against skin, making that unholy noise.

"Ah- fuck- shit- slowly!" He managed to babble, your name slipping from his lips with each bounce.

You felt his body arch up, squirming even more underneath you, he couldn't hold back the minute your walls began to clench against him, it was too much, enough for him to paint your insides white.

He was so high that you had to cover his mouth with yours, while you were still riding him until you came.

"Be quiet, or I'll be doing this all night." A threat or a gift? He couldn't tell, he wasn't even in his right mind to say anything.

And then you came, your fluids mixing with his as you both moaned against each other's lips.

You could still feel his hot cum oozing out, it was such a load. Just for you.

And there he was, drained, panting, not even able to open his eyes from how excited he was, still recovering from the high. And you didn't look much different.

Maybe, just maybe, after tonight he'll need another one of those... Your lessons.

[thedevilspearl]

are they a dom or a sub — brothers & dateables

a/n: i’ve seen dom/sub headcanons floating around since the dawn of time and now it’s my turn. these are my headcanons (spoiler alert: most of them are switches) and i want you to know that it’s okay to have differing opinions, and i’m 100% down to discuss your versions with you, just be nice about it loll this is all just for fun <3

tags: all brothers + dateables, no explicit smut but consistent discussion of dom/sub dynamics so minors do not interact!

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑  ➛  switch but dom–leaning. as a sub, he is so good and soft. it’s a way for him to accept and nurture his vulnerability with someone he trusts. but as a heavily dominant person, he takes on the dominant role most of the time — though, there are many times he prefers no dynamics of the sort and to just have sex as him and you. but going back to his dom side, he can range from hard to soft and it depends on many factors: his mood, your mood, the time of day, how much energy he has, if you two are alone etc. he does either really well, but he prefers to be a soft dom because he craves soft loving and intimacy over rough and lustful sex. but i will mention, as a hard dom, he loves a challenge so do him a favour and be as bratty as you can be.

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍  ➛  he is exactly in the middle as a switch. he’s neither dom nor sub–leaning, but perfectly balanced. and similar to lucifer, it all depends on his mood and the atmosphere. as a sub, he’s quite bratty. very moany and loves to feel pain (though, not too much). he has his softer subby moments, but he’s mostly a bratty sub and loves to be tamed (and punished). but as a dom, he would mostly act as a soft dom, or somewhere in between soft and hard, never going into full hard dom mode. don’t get me wrong, he loves rough and nasty sex but he can do all that without being a hard dom. he’s also massively into dirty talk and teasing, so even when he’s a soft dom, you’ll get glimpses of his harder, meaner, dirtier side even if it never comes into full fruition.

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍  ➛  we’re all convinced levi is sub–leaning, even he is. but i believe his dynamic can change greatly. he starts as a sub because he feels more comfortable with someone else taking the lead while he’s learning what he likes and dislikes, and also what you like and dislike. but his subby–ness can get repetitive and unexciting really quickly. he may be a brat sometimes and would prefer punishments like orgasm denial or no touching over pain–inflicting punishments. but most of the time as a sub, he is so good and sweet, obeying every order like a zealous golden puppy who worships you. later on, he explores his dominant side and he is fully committed to being a soft dom. sex with dom levi is like having sex with your best friend; he’s always praising you and asking if you’re doing okay. he can still be rough (and mean, if you ask for it), but that only makes him eager to be more affectionate.

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍  ➛  is a switch but let’s talk about his dom side since we all love to think about rough, mean dom satan. he can be a soft dom and i do headcanon him as one, but he is better suited in the role of a hard dom, particularly when he needs to release his pent up frustration. he needs someone who can take all of his rough, mean energy whilst also accepting his genuinely caring and affectionate side. what i mean to say is, during sex, you would mostly see hard dom satan, but afterwards, it’s nothing but soft and loving dom satan to take care of you. as a sub, he also also better suited as a hard sub. he wants you to test his limits. make him cry. make him scream. make him beg for more and make him beg you to stop. he wants you to treat him in a way no one else would dare to treat him and he very reluctantly wants to be put in place.

𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒  ➛  hard dom and hard sub for asmo are a no–no. the hardest he will go is calling you mean names (but they’re somehow always mixed in with praise), maybe spanking and a little bit of hair pulling. oh, and he does love to see you cry. rough sex is fine but with the way he speaks to you so softly and teasingly, it can hardly be considered rough, even when you’re brought to tears. if you want to see dom asmo, be prepared for him to always be a soft dom. as a sub, he may lean towards some harder things, but again, no matter how kinky or experimental sex with asmo is, he has his charming ways and it will turn out soft in the end. he’s kinky but he’s soft mostly all the way. and i would say he is more dom–leaning as a switch. sex is his expertise (sexpertise?) so he prefers to guide the way in the bedroom.

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁  ➛  dom/sub dynamics aren’t that important to beel but when it does play a part in sex, he is most naturally dom–leaning. sub beel has never crossed my mind and it probably never will. even if you are in control, he just can’t find himself in a sub mindset. but if it were the other way around, he could potentially slip into a dom mindset. beel is the demon most in touch with his animalistic nature, and that’s why it’s easier for him to be a dom. i would not categorise him as either hard or soft but rather just someone who likes to be in control sometimes. he can give you a good, hard fucking, but that doesn’t mean he’s a hard dom. he can also be a lot more gentle, and that doesn’t mean he’s a soft dom either. it’s hard to label him specifically, so i’ll leave beel as dom–leaning.

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑  ➛  belphie as a sub is a dream. he is so whiny and bratty, just imagine how he moans....i just know he makes himself sound especially pathetic when he’s in his subby persona. he likes being slapped, he likes being brought to tears. but he’s a switch and as a dom, he loves to do those exact same things to you. he can be quite confusing as a dom because he is soft and slow in his movements, very rarely fucking you fast and hard. but it’s in his words and sadistic behaviour where his hard dom shines. so physically, he’s a soft dom. but mentally, he’s all up in his hard dom space. he’s also the type of dom that will demand sex whenever and wherever he needs it which definitely boosts his hard dom side. he’s so mean with his words but he’s caressing your face and wiping your tears at the same time. dom belphie to you is exactly how he wants you to be with him when he’s a sub.

𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐎  ➛  the demon lord is probably the biggest (or second biggest after mammon) switch in the entirety of obey me. he is a flip–flop in the making. he can bounce from one end of the spectrum to the other in an instant. his dom/sub dynamic is literally so dynamic that it gives you whiplash. with most switches, if they begin the session as a sub, they will most likely finish as a sub. but dia can switch during sex, going from dom to sub or vice versa. maybe even switching three or four times, depending on how long you go at it with him. he can go from hard to soft and soft to hard. he knows how to read the room, how to read you and because his mood is so changeable, you need to be able to read him too. sex with dia requires a whole lot of understanding and chemistry. if you don’t have it, the sex can be too confusing that it becomes unenjoyable. but if you do have it, then it will be the best sex you’ll ever have.

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒  ➛  he is another one that i rarely see as a sub, if at all. i don’t think barbatos has any strong sexual preferences or kinks in general. and while they do exist, sex just isn’t a huge ordeal to him. but during those times when he is excited to experiment with sex, he would be a dom. he can be a soft dom but i don’t think he’d be particularly good at it, mediocre at best. he would excel more as a hard dom. he’s the type of person who will have a dark and rough sexual side, but is wholly soft and affectionate outside of the bedroom. he’s a dom but if you wanted to be the dom, he wouldn’t mind acting as a sub — just know he wouldn’t enjoy is as much. but, he also wouldn’t mind having to compete with another dom until one of you submits; that would be fun.  

𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍  ➛  now this angel can confuse you at first but first impressions are always deceiving. dom/sub dynamics are not heavily implemented into his simeon’s sexual preferences but i must say, when they do come out, it is absolutely stellar. simeon is a dom, a soft dom most of the time but every now and then, he’ll show himself as a hard dom. it’s very rare but it’s the kind of thing that lingers in your brain for weeks after it happens. even if you beg him to give you that mean and nasty sex, he won’t do it unless he decides to, or when he feels the need to. but as a predominantly soft dom, he is sweet and caring, a little bit of a tease (read: a lot) who loves to test your limits but in a gentle way. he can be subby at times, but he prefers to guide the sex as a soft, gentle dom or have sex with no dom/sub dynamics over being the sub.

𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐌𝐎𝐍  ➛  i think he’s lived long enough to have a very aged libido. it’s hard for him to be excited about sex until you come along and it’s just like having sex for the first time. he’s discovering his sexual preferences, old and new, with you and he is steadily paced with his experimentation. i want to say he’s a switch but i also believe he doesn’t enjoy being a sub much. so he would definitely try being a sub, but will learn that he is more suited to the dominant role. he’s spent so long being powerful and almost uncontrollable, so being out of control upsets his personality. as a dom, he is quite balanced and i think he mostly relies on your preferences and moods. he finds it hard to decide for himself so if you want it hard, he’ll give it to you hard. and if you want it soft, he’ll give you all the love in the world.

[jenscx]

[15] CALL ME BACK — last friday night

9.57pm: ning yizhuo’s party

the moment you had replied to wonyoung, a voice rang out from the crowd, yelling your name. you turn your head, making eye contact with the tall beauty, smirking at you.

“hey, sweetheart,” wonyoung waves slowly, her eyes dragging up and down your body, “gracing me with your presence?”

you laugh, “only for a few minutes, i’ve got to settle things with sakura.” wonyoung tilts her head, reminiscent of a puppy. her bunny eyes stare at you, “what? i can’t hear you.”

before you even attempt to repeat what you said, wonyoung interrupts, “let’s go somewhere quieter.” her cold hand grasps around your wrists, pulling you to a secluded room upstairs. ningning’s party playlist and the sound of people cheering drowns out, only leaving the soft ambience of ariana grande’s voice in your ears.

“so!” wonyoung smiles, “what were you saying?” she settles on the massive guest bed, taking her heels off and massaging her swollen ankles.

“kkura and i have to talk, so i can’t stay for long,” you repeat, eyes trailing around the room. you wonder how wonyoung even knew that this room would be empty. in a party like this, it would be expected that all the rooms would either be full of people smoking, or having sex.

“talk? talk about what?” wonyoung asks curiously. you sigh, thinking about the impending headache of an argument that is your relationship.

sakura was a lovely girlfriend; she always took care of you and never complained about your clingy nature. but she never really liked the company you kept around, mostly avoiding hangouts that you tried to arrange between them.

(“i’m friends with jungwon, but you can’t be friends with my best friend?”

“jungwon’s not my best friend, so your argument is invalid. i’m not going five feet near park sunghoon.”)

“i didn’t tell her about this party,” you frown, “she found out ‘cause sullyoon tweeted about it.”

“oh? you didn’t? why not?” she asks, getting up and rummaging through the cabinets.

“don’t know. just didn’t think it was important enough to tell her.”

it still wasn’t, in your head. you didn’t need to tell sakura if you were going to a party or not. it wasn’t like you lied straight up to her.

“maybe she has some trust issues, it’s kinda common nowadays,” wonyoung suggests, pulling out a bottle of alcohol, “found it!”

“how’d you know it was there?”

wonyoung grins, “ning told aeri and aeri told me. secret stash hidden away from the party.”

she sits back down, taking a chug out of the bottle.

“what’s up with your relationship then?”

you take a moment to think.

“it’s mostly a me thing though, sometimes i just do things to annoy her,” you mumble as wonyoung hands you the bottle, “mhm, thanks. her reactions’ funny. i do it just to make her angry.”

wonyoung laughs, “ah, is that why?”

“yea, she gets annoyed easily,” you giggle, thinking about sakura’s furious texts flooding your phone whenever you did something.

“you’re interesting,” she remarks, “deliberately making her angry. when did you guys meet?”

“we met at a party, park jaemin hosted it. she was introduced to me by one of yoona’s friends, i think her name’s haewon? sakura was the one who asked me out first, it was quite cute,” you smile, the memory of a stuttering and blushing sakura appearing in your mind.

you continued with your story, taking sips every time wonyoung passed you the bottle.

“cute,” wonyoung comments.

“hm?”

“your relationship,” she clarifies, “it’s cute.”

giggling, you nod. “sakura’s a cutie. ugh, what was i supposed to say to her again? i think she’s mad at me.”

“you’re meeting her later?”

“yeah, i need to apologise…” at this point, your words were completely slurred. wonyoung watched in amusement at how you struggled to stand up.

“i don’t think you’re in the best condition to talk to her, or even walk. maybe you should sober up first.”

you nod, completely out of it. wonyoung’s angelic face was just a blurry figure in your eyes.

“let me… just sleep… wake me up in 5…”

“okay, y/n. sleep well.”

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[kneelingshadowsalome]

i love your works and your toxic könig so much 😭 for some reason in my head könig was always like a puppy in love even outside of aus but i like to imagine him like this sometimes.

basically if he feels abandoned bc you were busy with something else (literally taking a shower for like 10 minutes or not looking at him while he was talking) he will start crying and needs you to kiss him a bunch of times and tell him he's your favourite boy baby husband man boyfriend sweetheart for like an hour lol. he literally can't stand it if he can't touch you or talk to you for long periods of time (let's say the reader is a civilian and könig often has missions he has to leave for). he literally goes insane and keeps rereading those screenshots of loving messages from you he has an entire folder on his phone for, literally he convinced himself that you've already left him for someone else and is now going to be crying himself to sleep.

when he does return he's literally scared, so it feels like you attached him to yourself physically and that's why he never leaves your side. always holding hands, könig always being there even if your have to move around the house a lot or do the most mundane tasks even if he himself has chores or things he needs to do. kind of creepy bc he's just silent but feels like he'll die if you disappear from his line of sight for more than two seconds.

even aside from that listening to you talk fondly of someone, anyone really: a friend (if he lets you have them), a random cashier (if he wasn't there with you to talk to them instead of you), a relative (if he even allows you to talk to your family) he's so!!! like hurt and upset and goes quiet for long periods of time.

like eyes red from crying, nose stuffed and he's like "i'm fine nothing is wrong" then goes back to crying somewhere more private.

and this kind of behaviour makes sex kind of uncomfortable Sometimes. he often needs you to repeat that you're his, only his, you can't look away from him, you HAVE to be holding his hand when he fucks you but somehow it's a 50/50 when it comes to power dynamics.

either he manhandles you and shows you that he's the only man, the only person you could ever need or love and that he won't ever let you leave him; or he's completely subby, like "please hold my face and kiss me while you're riding me for as long as you want, i'm only yours and i wanna show that" kind of way.

i am insane basically thank you for coming to my ted talk.

This was one of the best Ted talks I've ever been to! I loved every word, every second of it!! 🥳🥹 My god, I want more... I need me some encore now.

I love subby König, holy Christ. And tbh... what's beneath the toxic, crazy killing machine König is someone who is horribly, and I mean HORRIBLY love-deprived and touch-starved and super duper insecure. Which means there's bound to be some subby behavior leaking through toxic König too!

König would so need to have you on his sights at all times. And when he's working, it's annoying because... he loves his work but now he's just thinking about you. What are you doing at this very moment..? Have you talked to someone today? A friend, a colleague, a family member? A stranger??

Do you sleep ok without him (because he doesn't, he just tosses and turns in his bunk/cot/the ground all night when you're not there), and why haven't you sent a text today? He's gonna call you as soon as he gets somewhere more private.

The longer the mission lasts, the more sullen and broody he gets. After a few days, he kills his enemies with a thousand yard stare only because they're basically what's between him and his squeeze.

And yes he has to touch you like a thousand times a day or just watch your every move when he finally gets home. If you're in the bathroom too long he comes to knock on the door and ask if everything's alright (you ran there to have a moment's peace from this big cuddly behemoth who looks at you with that creepy batless obsessive stare... frankly it's disturbing)

And oh my god stop – holding hands during sex? Oh my god. Imagine him bordering on being rough (because he's *missed* you goddammit 👿) while wanting to entwine your fingers together✨️. Toxic König is a huge romantic, even if the "romantic" things he does are a bit... questionable. And he wouldn't shut up during the first round after he got home!

"Say that you missed me,"

"Tell me you're mine... Say it. Now,"

"You're always teasing me,"

would be some of the things he'd say during pounding you to his heart's content. (And you wouldn't even know how you've "teased" him this time... Like... He's the one who left for a week long mission...? 🤨)

After sex he would be so much gentler, but no less demanding and whiny. He needs so much validation and gets odd and grumpy if you don't give him some. If you'd try to domme him though, he would become even more unbearable (being a sub is this man's secret fantasy but he doesn't even know it himself).

[detectivebambam]

see now i have to be specific

as I have named myself President of the Keverejeandreil Polycule Club

the relationship vibes, assuming it's the two of them alone, since I've already made a post about the complete polycule vibes

Andrew

X Neil: obviously together, very romantic, very intimate, they understand each other completely

X Jean: Jean is so similar to Neil that after a while Andrew falls for him in roughly the same way

X Jeremy: almost a friends with benefits kind of vibe. they're just not as close as everyone else but they do care about each other and they are known to fuck

X Kevin: they've danced around each other for so long that Neil had to just push them together like Barbie dolls. definitely adore each other but always bicker

Neil

X Andrew: obviously together, very romantic, very intimate, they understand each other completely

X Jeremy: strictly friends. platonic life partners if you will? they love each other but they're more roommates than anything else. they are the only two that aren't together

X Jean: soulmates in every sense of the word. very similar to Kevin x Andrew's relationship though

X Kevin: either sleeping or arguing. they'll bicker with each other and then pass out in each other's arms. sometimes have sex, but not often

Jean:

X Andrew: is wary of Andrew at first, but learns to trust him more than anyone else in the world. they are extremely soft with each other, and don't often have sex when it's just the two of them

X Neil: soulmates in every sense of the word. very similar to Kevin x Andrew's relationship though

X Kevin: they are so soft and sweet with each other and have BOMB sex. they have deep convos a lot but over time they are just so compatible

X Jeremy: his sense of "normal". Jer is a little in over his head with everyone, but he's patient and calm and sometimes that's what Jean needs

Kevi

X Andrew: they've danced around each other for so long that Neil had to just push them together like Barbie dolls. definitely adore each other but always bicker. Andrew is the best at calming Kevi down from panic attacks

X Jean: they are so soft and sweet with each other and have BOMB sex. they have deep convos a lot but over time they are just so compatible

X Neil: either sleeping or arguing. they'll bicker with each other and then pass out in each other's arms. sometimes have sex, but not often

X Jeremy: energetic, fun, sweet. like two puppies who just fucking adore each other. the kind of couple that do the sit-up kissing thing when they work out

Jeremy

X Andrew: almost a friends with benefits kind of vibe. they're just not as close as everyone else but they do care about each other and they are known to fuck. he is more willing to talk to Andrew about his family than any of the others

X Jean: that's his boy. his angel. his pathetic meow meow. everyone is gentle with Jean (Neil least of all) but Jer can always keep his head above water when he feels like he's drowning

X Neil: strictly friends. platonic life partners if you will? they love each other but they're more roommates than anything else. they are the only two that aren't together (?) but they kiss and stuff. just not as intense

X Kevi: energetic, fun, sweet. like two puppies who just fucking adore each other. the kind of couple that do the sit-up kissing thing when they work out

[rillils]

do you ever think abt how we couldve seen more of nomad steve

NOMAD STEVE MY BELOVED

ohhh we were robbed, honey, in so many ways! imagine what we could have had!

- more footage of this man, luscious lovechild of hercules and adonis, most glorious chunk of deliciousness, sexy teddy bear man, the mane of a lion and the eyes of a puppy, mr Dirtied Up Good™, holy shield straps of sex, elected man with the sluttiest forearms of 2018 through 2024

- more of this Steve, who ain't playing dancing monkey for anyone anymore, who ain't asking for permission and/or forgiveness from anybody, who isn't taking anybody's shit, he just wants to fight for what he feels is right and he's not going to apologize for that, thank you very much

- his developing friendship with both Sam and Nat! them fighting like a unit! trusting each other, leaning on each other! learning more about each other! actually getting to know Steve, and his fun side, and his darker side, and his brooding side, and his silly side, and nagging him when they know he needs help but he's just too damn stubborn to ask for it

- FOUND FAMILY FOUND FAMILY FOUND FAMILY

- the three of them trying to comfort each other, each in their own (sometimes clumsy/awkward) way when a mission goes wrong, learning random words from random languages from one another (especially swear words they might have picked up in their respective times abroad lol), watching old sitcoms in their downtime, laughing together, hell even crying together, sharing too little space for too long, complaining about each other's unwashed socks, and still falling asleep on top of each other

- the few times Sam got to call his parents from a safe location. can you imagine Steve talking on the phone with Mrs Wilson? scared at first that she'll tear him a new one for putting her son in so much danger and dragging him away from home? but her knowing all too well that nobody's ever been able to make Sam do something he didn't want to do, that this was his own decision? and she's not actually mad at Steve, she just wants to make sure that "all of you kids are alright"? can you imagine Steve holding back tears the first time he hears a mother's voice talking to him, reminding him to be careful, to stay safe, after so long without it? do you think I'm crying???? I AM

- THE SKYPE CALLS WITH BUCKY

- actually EVERY SINGLE KIND OF INTERACTION WITH BUCKY, even when he's not there. Steve gazing longingly at a picture of Bucky, either physical or digital, that he makes sure to keep on him at all times. taking it out when he's lying awake at night, and everything's quiet except for Sam's snoring and the muffled sounds from the streets, and Steve thinks he saw Nat's eyes watching him in the dimness, but neither of them are going to say anything. he's just sitting in the dark, picture in hand, twirling some secret worry around in his head and missing Bucky so much it hurts. and those times (although he tries to keep these to a minimum) when he just can't help himself: he sneaks out of the room and calls Bucky, just to hear his voice. to listen to Bucky speak softly to him, his voice a little rough from sleep, but always so warm, so sweet for him. and Steve just leans his head back against the wall, and closes his eyes, and imagines he's curled up into Bucky's side, his head resting on Bucky's shoulder, with Bucky's fingers carding through his hair, and it's only then that he finds a little peace again

- all the videocalls with Bucky! the playful banter!! them arguing like an old married couple one moment, and exchanging the most besotted looks the next! Nat and Sam having to put up with all of their old-men-in-love shenanigans, and Steve never hearing the end of it lol

- Steve!! literally bounding out of the quinjet like an excited puppy when they visit his husband Bucky in Wakanda!!! overjoyed and not even bothering to hide it anymore after like the second or third time, 'cause everybody knows by now anyway!!

- all of them actually getting to rest for a while, and Steve enjoying his impromptu honeymoon with Bucky, savoring each day like it's both the first and the last of their life together, love sparkling in his eyes, happier than he's ever been before, finally free, ironically, now that he's an outlaw and a fugitive, and finding utmost delight in that knowledge

WE WERE ROBBED BLIND, HONEY

[lovdlydaz]

𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴.

switch!mingi x switch!san x black!afab!reader

your boys are so dumb and in love sometimes, not knowing what or how to act around you or in public. you adore them though, but their affection can be too much for you sometimes.

warnings: fluff to smut, himbo energy, p in v, unprotected sex, praise, slight choking, slight pain kink, spanking if you squint, everyone is switches, oral (m and f receiving), js some himbo sex enjoy

a/n: i absolutely adore the idea of lovesick himbos mingi and san, they’re literally the definition of himbo energy. also ive been brainrotting on them since they’re my biases so yeah—anyways, enjoy lovelies! i just need to get this off my chest before i continue the txt series.

you loved your boys to the ends of the earth, you would do anything for them. they gave you so much energy, so much life, and they knew exactly how to make you happy whenever you were sad or stressed out about work or school. they would always give you hugs and cuddles, share their food with you and make up fun little games that you all could play in order to make you smile. they knew everything about you, and that’s what you loved about them.

so, you came home yet again feeling extremely stressed due to the amount of work your boss had put on you to do before the end of your shift. you were tired and just ready to go to bed, but your boys were on the couch playing video games and trying to kill their opponent. once they saw you slug through the door they paused the game, san coming up to you and wrapping his arms around you. “what’s wrong babe? another tough day?” he asked, to which you nodded. mingi got up and hugged you from behind, leaning his head down and smelling the nape of your neck.

your perfume you wore always never seemed to fade away, even as the day went on. you almost never reapplied it either, which mingi could smell but you still smelled like heaven. he looked up at san and gave him a look, which the man nodded. they both then pulled away from you and you were about to fall asleep from their body heat, but you stopped yourself and stayed upright to see what they had planned. you could only see through blurry eyes that they were going into your shared bedroom, closing your eyes for a little until you heard loud screaming—there they were.

they both had on princess tiaras and earrings, some pretty makeup and plump lips. you wondered how they did that so fast; but you didn’t question it. however, what you did notice was how they also had gotten into your wardrobe and got dressed that you normally didn’t wear, squeezing into them and giggling. once you realized how far they really went to make you smile your face beamed, giggling softly and looking up at the both of them. “you guys! you both look so funny—how did you even manage to fit in these?” you walked up to them and started to touch all over their dresses, smiling the entire time.

“well, apparently san knew how to put on a dress, and i just thought of it the same as wearing a long shirt—i was so wrong,” mingi exhaled, smiling once he felt your tiny hands on his body. “i only know how to put on a dress because of a concert we had that one time and i had to wear something like a dress—remember that mingi?” he asked, mingi nodding and grinning. “yeah! you looked so cool man. i wish i got to wear the cool stuff during our concerts…” he pouted, making you turn to him. “mingi, you’re one of the only people who GET to wear the cool outfits. you can’t complain,” he told him, making mingi frown but giggle after. “yeah… i guess you’re right y/n. but… do you feel better now?” he asked, both of your puppy-eyed boyfriends staring straight at you to see what you would say.

you just cheesed and laughed, nodding your head as you got out your phone. “yes, yes i do! now smileee!” you singsonged, the two men posing as you took pictures of them. once you were done you pocketed your phone, hugging them both and they wrapped your arms around you smaller form. you pulled away after a minute and looked up at the both of them, their smiles never wavering with your own.

now you three were in bed, cuddled up together and watching a movie on the big TV san had bought for your birthday. it was one of your favorite movies and, while the boys didn’t necessarily understand it, they never said anything because it always made you smile. you were the light of their lives, seeing you was the one thing that motivated them to get up in the morning. they felt like your relationship would last until the day they die. nobody could really ever break the three of you apart.

you say between the two men, basically using them as a sort of blanket even though you had one on all of you. you watched the movie with gleaming eyes, and san happened to notice that your hands were staying on your body instead of wondering like they normally would. so, he grabbed your hand and placed it in his lap, holding it but never taking his eyes off the movie. of course mingi didn’t notice this, but he wrapped his arms around you to keep you even warmer. your cuddle sessions were the best in your opinion, and you could never ever not be satisfied by the end of it.

however, there was a certain scene during the movie that always had you blushing, when the love interest and protagonist were doing some unholy things. now the hand that was on san’s lap tried to move away, but the bigger man kept it there. he knew how flustered you got with this scene, even though you watched this movie about a hundred times, this part always made you flustered. mingi knew as well, and he used it to put his hand on your thigh, running it slowly up your pajama shorts near your womanhood. you gulped, catching san’s attention.

“what’s wrong pretty girl? movie too much for you?” he purred, getting close to your ear and kissing right underneath it, near your jawline. you shivered and started to feel yourself getting aroused, whimpering softly as the men continued on. you understood why watching movies like this was a bad idea with them around, they were men in their mid twenties whose libidos were through the roof. especially with you. their dicks and muscles talked more than their brain half the time, but you enjoyed that more than you would like to admit.

now here you were, spread on the bed while san was nose deep in your pussy. mingi sat behind you, fondling your breasts and pressing his plump lips against your darker skin. “fuck baby, lookin’ so good for both of us aren’t you?” he mumbled against your skin, causing you to let out a desperate whimper as san continued with his tongue. “tastes just like chocolate too, so delicious and sweet,” the smaller man panted, going back to indulge himself in your taste. both their cocks were rock hard and throbbing against their boxers, mingi not really being secretive that you were turning him on.

he rolled his hips against your back, moving a hand away from your breasts to grab your braids, pulling them back and forcing your head back. you gasped before his lips pressed against your own, drool escaping from the disgustingly desperate kiss. you could feel your orgasm coming the more san’s tiny yet skilled tongue moved against your labia and your clit. he was eating you so good, tasting your sweetness on his tongue and making him go insane. he was so easy to get pussy drunk, you did that to him. both of your boys were so easily under the influence, your pussy had a spell on them that they couldn’t get enough of.

you pulled away from the kiss and just laid your head against mingi’s shoulder, moaning the closer you got to orgasm. “f—fuck— sannie, min— fuck!” you cried out the last part, legs shaking as your orgasm flowed all over san’s tongue. he slurped up every single bit of your juices, mingi massaging your breast and holding your neck. “good girl, that’s our good girl. now give us some more for the night yeah? can you do that baby?” he cooed, you still in the aftershocks of your orgasm but drunkly nodding. “mhm, can give y’all some more,” you breathed out, making mingi smirk.

meanwhile, when san finished he stood up from the bed, a wet spot on his boxers as he panted from the pure desire beaming within him. he looked up at you and mingi, climbing onto the bed and pressing his thinner lips against yours. you kissed back, your plump lips smearing the lipstick and lip gloss all over his lips. mingi’s hand was still around your neck, leaning down to press more kisses against your jawline and neck. you loved this attention, and they knew that. so, they stopped kissing you and moved you onto san’s lap, right against his boner that was begging to come out of their clothed confines.

san looked down at your smaller form, your braids falling over your shoulders and your lipgloss smeared all over your lips. your big e/c eyes gave him that look that made him lose his mind, so best believe he was going to give it to you good. he lifted you up softly to pull down his boxers, kicking them to the ground and sitting you back on his lap. your ass was grinding right up against his leaking hard on, making him suck in a breath and look back at mingi. the blonde haired man had his cock in his hand, stroking softly as he stared at the both of you. “go on, let her sit on it.” he commanded the black haired man, making him nod his head and grip your hips with enough tightness to have them bruise in the morning.

you looked back at san, since your back was against his chest. “please sannie, use me,” you begged oh so sweetly, you were too much for them both. that was all the black haired man needed to hear before he shoved you all the way his thick cock, hearing your sweet voice cry out with pleasure and shock. he let out a breathy moan at the feeling of your tightness around him so suddenly. you smirked down at him, grabbing his chin softly and rubbing his lip with your thumb. “you feel s’good around me sannie… such a big boy fuckin’ me,” you groaned out, making his cock twitch up inside you.

mingi watched you two with hungry eyes, he wanted in on the action but watching you start to grind your hips down on san and seeing his eyes roll back with pleasure had his attention more than his cock did, you were so sexy. your lashes fluttering with each movement, big plump lips glossy and covered with everyone’s spit as sweet moans escaped your throat. the sweet sound of your moans made the two men go absolutely insane, san’s cock was twitching madly inside of you because of how sweet you were.

mingi got an idea. he crawled over to the both of you, stopping your hips with a hard grip of your hips, tapping san’s shoulder and making him turn his head. he then whispered something in his ear, making san nod his dazed head and lay down. mingi grabbed your face and opened your mouth, spitting into it and making you swallow. you looked so dazed and you loved the messiness, it was so hot how a switch would flip inside them every time you three had sex.

the blonde was hovering over san’s face, his shaved hole right over the man’s mouth. the tallest had made sure to wash himself good too, since he didn’t want his friend and lover to taste something disgusting inside him. san’s little black eyes were hazed and filled with desire, his hands reaching up to grab mingi’s hips. he then forcefully pulled the man down to his face, basically suffocating himself with mingi’s ass. the blonde gasped and moaned softly, while his hands still holding your face guided it down to where his cock was. “fuck— suck it baby, know you can,” he grunted, you not needing to be twice before your whole mouth wrapped around his tip, your hand grabbing the parts that weren’t inside your mouth.

mingi’s eyes rolled back with pleasure, the overwhelming sensation of his boyfriend eating him out while his girlfriend sucked his dick made him lose his mind, and he loved it. san was enjoying this as well, because he was getting harder inside you and you weren’t even moving. you were getting wetter around him from hearing them both groan and whimper because of how good the sex was, you needed another orgasm.

you were on your knees and san’s hips were completely on the bed, not moving until he noticed how much your hole clenched and unclenched around him. he decided to start moving his hips, thrusting up into you and forcing your head to fly back in a frenzy. you moaned so loudly, mingi whining from the loss of contact and eyes begging you to continue. you of course didn’t see them so he grabbed your face and pushed you back onto his cock, moaning because of how good your wet mouth felt. your braids were all over the place now, sticking to your skin as sweat glistened over your chocolate body.

mingi’s eyes couldn’t believe himself, the two hottest people in the world were eating him out and sucking his dick. from watching you and san break underneath him he came in just a few minutes, filling your mouth up with his hot and tasty seed. you swallowed all you could, trying to get every last drop to savor the flavor. he rolled his eyes back and laid his head back, hands accidentally landing on san’s shoulders and pressing his whole weight onto them. san softly smacked mingi’s ass to tell him to let up, but all that elicited out of him was a moan. so, san did it again, this time harder, and the man got the message.

he let up on san, moving his ass up from his face and letting the man breathe. the black haired man’s face was covered in saliva, but he looked pleased with himself. he was still so close to orgasm, he needed something more to help him get there though. your pussy was more than enough but, he just needed more. so, mingi leaned down and kissed those thin yet cherry red lips of his, and that made him cum. you were riding him the whole time, moaning as he filled you up.

you came soon after, clamping around his sensitive cock and moaning alongside him. after a minute or so you got off of his cock, mingi staring at your creamy brown pussy ooze of you mixed contents. “c’mere honey, lemme eat you,” he panted, grabbing you softly and pulling you towards him. he laid down and sat you on his face, you rolling your eyes back as he devoured you. san was back up and kissing your lips, you whimpering into his mouth as mingi cleaned you up. after a good few minutes you came into his mouth, him cleaning up that substance as well.

after another minute or so you tapped his thigh, moving your hips away to signal your overstimulation. he let you do so, since he knew that you had work in the morning and he didn’t want you to be too late. however, he smack your ass a few times before letting you come up, you gasping at the smacks and rolling your eyes back.

san watched and bit his lip, his cock twitching but not coming back to life. mingi’s surprisingly hadn’t come back to life either, but that was because it took all his power not to get hard. you looked up at the both of them, your lashes almost falling off your face due to the sweat making the adhesive wear away, you were panting and shaking because of how good you had just felt.

your boys laid down with you, smiling and giggling because of how sweet you looked. you were so fucked out, and they knew how good they made you feel. they hugged you as you slowly drifted off, not before mumbling a sweet “good night”, to which they responded with in-unison “good night babe!” before you were out like a light. the other two stayed up to watch you, giggling and laughing while they watched you sleep. however, they did go to sleep after a few hours, and you all looked so peaceful together.

you loved your himbo boys, and they loved you. they may be air headed and think with their muscles half the time, but they knew exactly how to make you feel better and how to fuck you good. they were your world, and you were theirs. it was mutually a really great relationship.

© gg 2023. dividers were made by me. do not steal, use, or repost my work without my consent. reblogging/interaction is welcomed.

[holylulusworld]

Big girls don't cry (5)

Summary: You are no stranger to heartbreak.

Pairing: CEO!Steve Rogers x Plussized!Reader

Warnings:  angst, strong reader, mentions of former heartbreak, regret, fear of commitment, abandonment issues, fluff, mistaken identity, hopeful ending, a little fun, talk about therapy

Big girls don’t cry masterlist

Part 4

“I wish you love. A love that will give you everything you’ll ever need…”

You fist his shirt, desperate to tell Steve how you feel. Yes, he hurt you deeply but maybe there is a chance that you can work things out. 

There is love between the two of you. A love you don’t want to give up easily. 

You didn’t know he struggled in the past too, believing he always was the self-confident man he is. You understand now that he is insecure sometimes - just like you.

“Steve, I don’t want someone else to love me. I only wanted you to love me,” you hide your face in his chest, wetting his shirt with your tears.

“I ruined our love. I destroyed what we had because of my insecurities,” Steve cries now too. He hiccups and buries his face in your neck. “You will never love me again. I threw the best thing ever happening to me away. What else can I do but let you go to find someone better?”

“Steve, love doesn’t die easily. It’s stronger than you give it credit for. Love isn’t always strong from the beginning. It grows if you give it the chance to do so. Every touch, kiss, or gentle gesture let it grow,” you choke out a sob. “Even after a storm, it can grow if you find a way to forgive each other.”

“I love you so much it hurts not having you around. That day, I wanted to ask you to move in with me,” he sniffs, “I wasn’t sure how to propose, but I got the ring, and then…”

“You messed shit up, Stevie,” you whisper against him. “Why did you have to say these things? Why?”

“Sam and Bucky said I’m whipped, and I got scared that you will make me fall in love even more only to break my heart. Everyone just left me, and I kind of sabotaged our relationship to not get hurt. Instead, I hurt the only person who meant the world to me. I hate myself for it.”

“You’ve got abandonment issues. I don’t think you’ll be able to have a healthy relationship if you don’t seek help. Maybe you need a therapist to help you come to terms with your past. I’d gladly help you, but I don’t think I’m the right person.”

“A therapist,” Steve whispers. “Will you help me find one? I-I trust you and…”

“I won’t give up on us yet, Steve. I’m still angry at you. But mostly, I’m hurt. You didn’t trust me enough to talk about your past with me.”

“You didn’t talk about your past with me either, doll,” he lifts his head to look at you. “I guess we both should try to come to terms with our past. Maybe we can do it together?” Steve looks at you like a kicked puppy. “Please…”

“So…” You sit on Steve’s sofa, looking at the notebook in your hands. “What do you think about the therapist and the homework he gave us?”

“I’m not sure,” Steve places a cup of tea and some cookies on the coffee table in front of you. “It felt good to talk about the things bugging me. But I didn’t like the way he stared at your chest.”

You giggle. Steve is not wrong. Dr. Hansen poorly hid his attraction toward your boobs and ass. Maybe he wasn’t the best choice, but he had the best reviews. 

Steve sighs and opens his notebook to reread the instructions Dr. Hansen gave him during their private session. “He told me to tell you how much I love your body. With my tongue and body.”

“He told you to have sex with me?” You wrinkle your nose. “You’re lying.” Steve yelps when you snatch the notebook out of his hands to get a look at the instructions. “Did he draw me?”

“Uh-that was me. Dr. Hansen was talking about you, and that you’re a beautiful woman. He wanted me to cherish you. I couldn’t help myself and draw you.”

“You’re very talented Steve,” you grin. “Just draw me with clothes on next time…”

“He didn’t see a thing. I swear,” he starts to sweat. “It’s just that the was talking about you, and your appearance all the time and my mind wandered.”

Sighing again you close the notebook. “I don’t think Dr. Hansen will help us. He’s a pervert.”

“Hmmm…” Steve nods in agreement. “I don’t understand all the good reviews. Maybe they are fake.”

“Let me check again,” you grab your phone to search for Dr. Hansen. “Hmm…” You frown deeply. “Crap.”

“What?” Steve looks at you, brows furrowed. “Doll? What’s wrong?” He worriedly places his hand on your thigh.

“I think…uh…I messed up this time,” you giggle as your cheeks heat up. “I noted the wrong address. I wanted to go to Dr. Hanson, not Dr. Hansen. We kinda ended up with a sex therapist.”

Steve snorts. “Well, we never had a problem in that department. Our sex was extraordinary, kinky, sweet, hot, and satisfying.”

“You are telling me,” you groan loudly. “Great. Now I know why he was talking about my sad vagina all the time. I believed he was a creep when he wanted me to tell him about my masturbation routine.”

“He asked you how you touch yourself?” Steve’s head snaps toward you. “I swear, I’m going to kill him. Right now. I’ll go to his practice and murder him.”

“He only did his job,” you point out. 

Steve pouts. “I still don’t like that guy. He accused me of not taking care of your muffin. I don’t know what he meant, but I didn’t like it one bit.” 

You snort, as you watch Steve. “Oh my god. Stevie! You can’t be serious.”

“I’m damn serious.” He slams his fist into the couch. “I always ate your muffins and cupcakes. How dare that man to say I don’t like the food you make.”

“Steve,” you giggle as you place your hand on his shoulder. “He was talking about my vagina, not pastries.”

“What?” All color drains from Steve’s face. His features harden and he’s about to kick the table. “How can he say such a thing?”

“Uh-I kinda told him that you disappointed me. I guess he believed I was talking about your qualities in the bedroom.” You start laughing at Steve’s pissed expression. He grunts as you hold your stomach. “This can only happen to us. We seek help and end up with a sex therapist.”

“Stop laughing,” Steve struggles to not laugh. “Doll, stop laughing. We should talk about our relationship, not laugh about our therapist.”

“I wanna laugh,” you giggle and kick your feet. “That feels,” you snort while laughing, “so good. Stevie…”

After the incident with Dr. Hansen, and your flash of laughter you decided to talk things out with Steve in private. If you need professional help, you can still look for a therapist.

It’s been two weeks, and you are slowly making progress. You talked about your childhood friends and slowly got closer to the core of your problems. Distrust and the fear of getting hurt again.

“You can take your time,” Steve softly says. “I told you about Peggy and the others hurting me. Uh-and my first girlfriend. You know that I’ll not judge you or laugh about you.”

You inhale sharply. It’s been years since you thought about your first love. “It was because of one of his friends’ comments. We were good, and I believed he liked me. One false word from his friend and he decided that I was not the girl he wanted to take to prom. Since then, I never trusted someone with my heart. Until you.”

“And I broke your trust in me,” Steve sighs deeply. “I know I said it before but I’m so fucking sorry. What happened in my past shouldn’t have influenced my life and my feelings for you. If I could turn back time and take the words back, I’d do it.”

“Now that we talked about our past, we should address the elephant in the room. Where do we go from here?”

“I don’t know,” he honestly says. “All I know is that my feelings for you never changed, and that I love you. I just don’t know if that’s enough for you.”

“What about your job? You quit and gave up your career,” you move a little closer to Steve to take his hand in yours. “What do you want to do now?”

“Bucky, Sam, and I are thinking about starting our own business. That was my dream for years. I hated working for that asshole.”

You interlock your fingers with Steve and lean your head against his shoulder. “You’ll stay in New York, right? I don’t want you to move miles away.”

“Of course, I’ll stay close to you, doll. It’s only a vague idea so far. We still need to talk about the details,” Steve leans his head against yours, sighing. “Do you want me to stick around?”

“Hmm…I could get any guy, you know. Including Dr. Hansen,” you grin hearing Steve inhale sharply. “Every guy wants a taste of me.”

“Y-ou wouldn’t go out with Dr. Hansen. Right? He’s still a creep,” Steve stammers. “Please don’t go out with him.”

“I could have any guy, but I only want you, Steve.”

Steve nods. He knows that you’ve got a long way ahead. Both of you need to heal, but if you are willing to give him the chance, he’ll show you what love is…

FIN

Tags in reblog.

[curtsycream]

Frat! Headcanons

Frat!Ghost, Soap, and Gaz x Soro!Reader

This is so short and I just I don’t know, as someone who was really into greek life I felt a need to. Not proofread, talks about their sex life briefly, and mostly includes partying. Not the complete soro/frat life but I thought this would be more interesting.

Being in a relationship with Frat! Simon, Kyle, and Johnny. You belong to the sister sorority on campus. Your sorority and their fraternity have lots of events together from toga nights to casino nights.

No matter what the party is Simon always sticks close to you. Call it your scary dog privileges as no one dares to approach you either him one step behind you.

At parties you can be a bit of a lightweight and tend to put your drink down a lot. Well you used to but whenever you feel the need to put your drink down you hand it to Simon, “hold please.” Simon will literally guard it with his life even if you only handed it to him to hold hands with Johnny.

Johnny normally doesn’t hold your drinks as he has a tendency to drink it. He gets curious about the mix you have in your cup and drinks it or assumes you made it for him. “How was I supposed to know you just handed me a cup, baby.”

Kyle was also a good option to hold your cup as he would hold it close. If anyone walked up to him he would assume it was for the drink. “No you can’t hold this, so you can spike it? I’ve seen movies I know how this goes down.” Truthfully he means well, when you walk back over to him it would be like a puppy seeing its owner. He would hand you back your cup smiling when you say thank you.

I’d like to think that Johnny and Kyle would rope you into beer pong games as much as they can. They like to watch you play even if you’re not the best at it. But anytime someone gets a pong ball into a cup during your turn one of them would drink it. Their only excuse is, “I was thirsty.” But deep down the reason was because they didn’t want you to get completely wasted.

The aftermath of parties would always be the best. Since the parties usually took place in the fraternity you would sleep there. It was convenient that Kyle and Johnny share a room.

If you were drunk they would take care of you. Well take care of you and Kyle, he’s not the greatest at pacing himself and tends to go beyond his limits. You all would push Johnny and Kyle’s beds together and cuddle.

But on the nights you didn’t drink or barely drank let’s say things would go differently. It would usually start the second Johnny’s lips were on yours. Pretty soon you’d have Simon’s hands on your hand as he thrusts into your mouth. With Kyle and Johnny sharing your cunt as they kiss. Even when you weren’t drunk it was always an intoxicating experience.

I’m an avid believer that these guys are the kind to be into public sex, face fucking, double penetration, degradation, and boob jobs. They’re always willing to try something new which is usually brought up by Soap, “so I saw this thing on like tv or something and wanted to try it.” “You mean pornhub?”

Prepare for jealous girls to show up to the frat parties hoping they have a chance with them. You never have to worry they’re too loyal to do that to you. Kyle is usually says something loudly to deter them from him, “I have a wife, she knows how to fight!” Whether you know how to fight or not that’s always his go to statement.

Johnny chooses a different approach he tends to call over one of his frat brothers and introduces him to her. “Hey Gary, this is…what’s your name again? Oh, yeah Olivia, yeah this is Olivia. Enjoy.”

Simon wouldn’t even let a girl speak a word before he was walking away like he didn’t hear a thing. Actions speak louder than words sometimes.

Your sorority sisters rarely see you during weekends as you’re always with your boyfriends. It becomes a tradition for the four of you to lock yourselves away in Johnny and Kyle’s room for the weekend and hangout. Most times it involves old horror movies and your own versions of drinking games. It can’t be helped you’re all hormonal university students.

[evermoresversion]

ㅤㅤ♡⃕ ﹙dating headcanons, christopher vélez.﹚

TW/TAGS Established relationship, suggestive content, fluff, implied sex.

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED | CHRISTOPHER'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

You have to keep in mind that with Christopher you don't just have a boyfriend, you have a little boy trapped in an adult's body.

He is definitely the definition of a Golden Retriever boyfriend.

When the two of you go out, for example, to the supermarket, while you are buying what you need for your home, he just follows you like a lost puppy, but as soon as an object catches his attention, he doesn't hesitate to walk there and he is like: "Look, my love! I can buy it?"

It was literally a bed for a soap. Why is there something like this in the supermarket? I do not know either.

When he feel like it, he can be quite whiny when it comes to his daily dose of attention and affection.

"Looooove, pay attention to me." he complained, practically hanging on to you, hugging you by the shoulders.

When you finally stop what you were doing, you turn around to face him and at that very moment he places his lips on yours, putting his hands under your shirt to press you against him and hums as soon as he gets what he wants.

Always gets what he wants.

He loves going out to clubs, so when he does he mostly asks you to accompany him.

He loves it when you dance for him, he could die that way and he would die happy. His words, not mine.

When you know that there is a driver designated among his friends, sometimes you and Christopher have competitions of who can drink the most and who gets drunk first.

"I'm not drunk, you are."

When this happens, both of you are a sea of laughter, and there was even a time when he danced with you, twerking at you.

Surely when you return he will persuade you to have drunk sex.

Rest assured that if someone invited Chris out or to a party, but you were sick, feeling bad, or in the mood to spend time with him, he would cancel everything on his schedule to spend time with his queen.

His grandmother, mother and siblings love you, especially his grandmother and mother. They think Chris couldn't have chosen a better girl to be his girlfriend.

Lots of lazy mornings, more because of him than you.

He just says, "five more minutes", while he tightens his grip on your waist so he can keep you close to him and those five minutes suddenly turned into at least two hours.

When he has tours or is busy with his work, he is always sending you messages asking how you are or if you had eaten, he also likes to make video calls when he is not very busy or there are times when he forces you to go with him because he doesn't want to leave you alone.

The best boyfriend you could have asked for. <3

The boys love you too, although Chris sometimes gets jealous of your close relationship with them.

Definitely a gentleman thanks to the education his mother gave him.

"In a world of boys he is a gentleman."

Whenever you are walking down the street he loves to have his hand intertwined with yours or hugging you by the shoulders.

He lets you color his tattoos with markers.

He would have a tattoo alluding to you even if you told him not to.

"Even if we broke up, you will always be present in my mind, so I would like to have you permanently in my body."

He loves to sleep and loves to sleep even more if it's with you.

He loves sleeping on top of you like a weighted blanket or under you with you on his chest.

Whenever he feels frustrated or sad he just comes to you, hugs you tightly and hides his face in your neck without saying anything for at least five minutes.

He is your number one fan.

He worships you like a goddess.

Quickies are his favorite thing in the world.

But he would never refuse to give you your good sex session properly.

The king of aftercare.

He fills a bathtub for you and tries to cook you something but he probably end up burning it and surely he would end up ordering food at home.

Every chance he gets he tells you how much he loves you.

Play the guitar for you.

Especially your favorite songs.

Rest assured that he will write love songs for you.

Most of his fans loves you.

You're practically Ollie's mom.

I just know that he loves you too much and will never let you go. <3

disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2023.

[missvelvetsstuff]

Just a Number

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader meets Bucky at a party and the attraction is more than either one of them wants to resist. Of course nothing is ever that simple.

Notes: Since most stories are younger readers I felt like having a more mature reader could be a nice change of pace. Especially since I'm creeping up on senior discounts and want to believe Bucky could fall in love with someone like me.

I try to keep my readers description vague but, as always, she's female, tall and this one is obviously 40+

Chapter 10

Warnings: swearing, vague sex talk, angst

"John's dead"

Olivia's words rang in her head and her imagination immediately concluded that something had happened to James since they were on the same mission and his phone call had been abruptly disconnected.

Dawn was finally able to get Olivia calmed down and Y/N took the letter she had been waving around. It wasn't as bad as Olivia sobbed but it wasn't good. John was MIA, the letter didn't mention Bucky or Sam.

The two of them sat on the couch while Y/N poured drinks for them. She downed hers and refilled the glass before setting the bottle on the table, giving them their drinks and sitting down.

"So this doesn't say he's dead, he's just MIA. Which isn't great but there's still hope." Y/N offered, trying to sound positive even though her chest was tight and her stomach tied in knots.

Olivia was calming down and looked over at her "That's what Val said but I don't know if I can trust her."

Dawn looked at her questioningly "Val? Who's Val?"

Olivia shrugged "She approached John after his court martial. Said she would have work for him but didn't really clarify. She works for some govt agency, I'm not sure which and has a crazy long name that I can't remember." Olivia sighed "She told me to be strong and not to lose hope but I...." She held back a sob. "I don't know how to live without him. How do you do it, Y/N? I mean without Mike?"

Y/N shrugged "You just keep going, sometimes you have to lie to yourself and pretend you're ok. I had Dawn and if this does turn out to be the worst, you have us. You can stay in Jessie's old room tonite and as long as you need."

Olivia nodded "Thank you. I would like to stay, at least for tonite."

Dawn smiled softly at her "We're your sisters and will do whatever we can. For now, lets just take things one day at a time."

One day turned into a week, then two until over a month had passed with no news at all.

Jessie visited a few times a week to keep Olivia company while Y/N and Dawn worked. Her dog, Luna, was very comforting and made Olivia wish for a pet of her own but John hated animals and forbade it.

Michael came by a couple of times during the day but was careful to be gone before his mother returned, his anger at himself combined with the shame over how he had treated his mother prevented him from reaching out and apologizing.

On a Saturday, a couple of weeks after the letter, Dawn and Y/N went to the shelter and adopted a pair of pit mix puppies, brothers. One was black with dark eyes and immediately bonded to Y/N. The other was tawny with gold eyes and took to Dawn almost as quickly. During the day they kept Olivia company but at night they came alive when their two favorite people returned home.

One evening about 6 weeks after the letter there was a knock on the door. Y/N excused herself from dinner and hurried to answer it, hoping that John or Bucky had returned, or that Michael had come to his senses.

She wasn't that lucky. Instead it was Sam looking tense and she could see the concern on his face. He looked haggard with circles under his eyes and a scraggly beard.

"Sam! We didn't expect to see you here. Please come in we're just finishing dinner. Would you like something to drink? Have you eaten yet?"

Sam shook his head "I'm fine, thank you. I need to talk to you and I heard John's wife is staying here and-"

Before he could finish he was almost knocked down by the dogs who had grown quickly and were very affectionate with people their alpha moms were comfortable with. He chuckled at their antics.

Once the dogs had thoroughly inspected him they went to lay on their pillow and he was able to talk again. Dawn and Olivia had finished cleaning up from dinner and came to see what the commotion was about. When she saw Sam, Olivia felt her eyes tearing up and started shaking her head, assuming it was bad news.

Sam tried to soothe her speaking softly "Hey, it's alright Olivia. Is it ok if I call you Olivia?"

She nodded silently

Sam sat on the couch "I'm not supposed to be here but I wanted to let you know that it's not as bad as it might seem and you shouldn't lose hope." He looked at Olivia and then to Y/N "Both of you. Please keep the faith and know I'm doing everything I can. I'm sorry I can't say any more about it. Take care of yourselves."

Before any of them could ask any questions he quickly stood and excused himself, leaving Olivia and Y/N staring at the door he left through.

The next day while Y/N was at work, Peppers receptionist, Brittany, called to let her know she had a visitor.

Y/N felt her nerves flare, she wasn't expecting anyone today but she told Brittany to send them in.

Y/N stood to greet a well dressed, petite woman with dark hair.

The woman spoke first "I'm Contessa Valentina Allegra deFontaine but you can call me Val. I need a moment of your time."

Y/N looked at her, appraising her, for a moment "Why do I have the feeling that you aren't really asking?" Shrugging, she waved at the chairs in front of her desk. "Have a seat, Val. Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, water?"

Val shook her head Y/N sat down.

Y/N waited for Val to say something while Val looked around her office before sitting. Y/N sighed, she had too much to do. "How can I help you?"

Val finally spoke but not about her reason for being there "The short blond in the pictures, that's your adopted sister Dawn Walker? And the others are your kids, Michael and Jessica? You have a beautiful family, shame about their father. We saw a few cases like his, people materializing in dangerous places. Very sad."

She paused but started back up before Y/N could reply "I'm surprised there aren't any pictures of James, or the two of you. John made it sound like you were attached at the hip."

She looked at Y/N knowingly "I get the feeling that there's some jealousy issues there, unhealthy for siblings, adopted or not."

Y/N finally had it "OK, I get it, you know all about me and my family, my life. I'm appropriately scared so can you just get to the point. What is this all about?"

Val tutted at her "No, no dear, oh no, I'm not trying to frighten you. I have large, well armed men for that. I'm just letting you know that I know all about you so, no point in trying to keep secrets."

She stood and started pacing the room before speaking again

"We have someone in common. You're closer to him than I am but I also have a vested interest in Sargeant Barnes. I think you can help me with that."

Y/N's face hardened "I haven't spoken to James in weeks so don't know how I could help you with him. Honestly I'm not sure I would help you if I knew anything. He has had enough people messing with him and I won't be one of them."

Val smiled as she sat down "I knew you were a woman of integrity, a lot of kids who lose their parents young go the other way. Protecting him even after those horrible pictures." She gave Y/N a look that seemed to be trying to convey sympathy but seemed more pained than anything else.

"I want you to know I had nothing to do with that mess. That Sharon is just bad news around attractive men but I need her too. For now." She chuckled darkly then shook her head and smiled at Y/N.

"But that's not why I'm here. I work for the US government and we need James' cooperation on a project I'm working on. I think your encouragement would go a long way for him, make it easier for him to make the right choice."

Y/N shook her head "I think you're overestimating my relationship with James. We've only seen each other a handful of times. We haven't even had any kind of contact in over a month. Then there's those pictures. He's obviously not that into me."

Val kept swinging and missing that sympathetic look on her face "Based on what I've heard, I don't think thats true. Regardless, if you do see or speak to him I need you to try to encourage him to take my offer. I'll make sure to keep you and your family safe if he does."

Y/N gasped and her eyes grew wide "Was that a threat? James better do what you say or you'll hurt my family? Who the Hell are you?"

Val smirked "No, of course it wasn't a threat. Goodness, you watch too many movies. Just keep me in mind when you see him. I think you'll be good for him and I'm never wrong." She quickly stood "Lovely meeting you, I'm sure I'll see you again."

Y/N sat at her desk, speechless and bewildered, trying to figure out what just happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On another continent, Bucky was sitting alone in a tiny motel room looking over a map to figure out where John and Sharon might have disappeared to. He wasn't convinced that they weren't intentionally evading him as opposed to being hurt or taken by some bad guys but he wasn't going to just leave them behind without trying to figure it out. He might hate both of them but they were his team, if you could call it that, and he knew better than to leave anyone behind.

The next morning he heard from a couple of old contacts in the area and he was almost sure that he had found the Power Broker. He went to the compound where they were supposed to be located and watched the activity until nightfall when everything looked quiet. He found a way in and crept through the site until he reached what looked like the main house.

He heard crying that sounded like Sharon and picked the lock to get it. As soon as he opened the door he could hear softer moans and the room smelled like sweat and sex. The noises stopped but John kept thrusting into her, under a blanket thank goodness, as she spoke.

"Well Bucky? Aren't you coming in? There is plenty of room if you want to join us." Sharon giggled "Have you figured it out yet?"

Bucky shook his head, looking away from them. "What that you'll fuck anyone and he's no better?"

Sharon laughed again "Don't be a prude and no, that's not it."

John groaned loudly and stilled, laughing "Sharon is the fucking Power Broker stupid."

He moved away from her and pulled a pair of sweats up as he stood. "I can't believe you were some fantastic spy and assassin but couldn't work that out." He shook his head "So much for the Winter Soldier"

Bucky shook his head "I'm not him anymore."

John stepped up to get in his face. "Obviously. You should retire if this is all too much for you. Wouldn't want you to get hurt or anything."

He gently pushed Bucky back, away from Sharon. "Keep your hands off, Sharon's mine. I let you have a taste and that's all you get."

Bucky shook his head in disgust "I have no interest in Sharon. Or you for that matter. If I'd known that you two were safe I would have headed home ages ago. So I'll just get out of your hair."

He turned to walk away but John grabbed his right arm. "Sorry Barnes but we're not done with you yet, I-."

Before John could finish his statement Bucky pulled out of his grip and punched him with everything he had and again until he knocked John to the ground.

Bucky towered over John, breathing heavily "I don't care, I'm done with you."

John looked over fearfully, holding his jaw "No, you can't go. I have someone who needs to talk to you."

Bucky gave John his best murder glare "Well, where are they?" His left hand whirred as he clenched it.

A woman's voice came from the balcony "I'm right here Sargent Barnes." She was petite with dark hair and reached out to shake his hand "I'm Val, nice meeting you but I will have to ask you to back off from Walker. I need him too."

Bucky shook his head "Val who? Who do you work for?"

"Contessa Valentina Allegra deFontaine but you can call me Val. I work for the U.S. just like you."

He scoffed "What do you want from me?"

"I'm helping president Ross put together a team. Like the Avengers but without the laws and rules that constricted them. People like you and your friend John over there who have dubious histories. Some familiar faces from the Red Room as well. We need you on that team."

Bucky looked at her confused. "Ross isn't president, the election isn't until November. Besides, I'm not much of a team player."

Val laughed "You worked pretty well with Wilson. Besides, it doesn't matter what excuses you come up with you will be on that team." She grabbed his left hand and looked over the prosthetic "This thing is beautiful, by the way. The Wakandan's were really holding out on us."

And sighed "Look, if you don't agree to join our team, we'll create a situation that demands your pardon be revoked and your new residence is the Raft. Then you'll never see your little girlfriend again. I don't think either of you would like that very much."

She turned to John "Would you please stop fucking every woman who comes within 10 feet of you? Selling you as the all American hero who made a terrible mistake doesn't work if you're cheating on your wife. And Sharon? Find someone else who can recreate the serum, before the election instead of wasting your energy on every slightly attractive man you meet."

Val turned to leave "I'll give you a week to decide Sarge. Don't disappoint me."

Bucky watched her walk out, more confused than ever.

@supraveng @cjand10 @440mxs-wife @kandis-mom @dtba-grey81 @calwitch @ozwriterchick

Chapter 11

[romanarose]

IYWBW: Bonus chapter: Candy

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Summary: Candy's thoughts

Warnings: Drug use, slight smut, feelings (eek!), sex work, im just gonna say dub con because she's not exactly thrilled with this part of sex work.

Immersibility: Reader is Latina, had curly hair, fem

AUTHORS NOTE: Because I am a shitty writer, the smut from last chapter came off to a lot of people as a threesome. I edited it so the Santi's bits are in italics and i think its more clear. The scene was meant to portray two DIFFERENT scenes.

**************

As Candy did a long line, the party in it's height, she was thankful this was a perk of the job. She'd already fucked 3 men tonight and then of of the other girls at the party while a group watched and christ, she was gtting tired. The drug began to pulse through her veins, however, giving Candy renewed vigor to finish the last stretch of the night. She had been able to take a breather, thank god, and was having a few drinks and a few lines, occaionaly chatting with the men and other women, most of whom she knew.

The girls liked Candy because Candy stood up for herself and for them, offering a layer of protection in a harsh world. Things could be dangerous in this line of work, women were killed all the time, but it'd not like Candy had a lot of options. She needed to get out. She needed to get a visa and go to America. She needed to get Javi something him and Santi could use.

What she'd do there, she wasn't sure, but it had to be better than this.

If her work only consisted of men she chose coming to her apartment when she chose, it would be a good job. Candy didn't mind her work most of the time and there were men like Javi and Santi who made it fun. That was good.

However, that wasn't paying the bills, so Candy had to attend these parties.

Another line of coke. She was aching and needed at least one more fuck from a rich man if she was going to be able to afford an air conditioning unit this summer. With air conditioning, she was more likly to get clients during the hot months; no one wanted to fuck in a muggy apartment in mid-july.

Javi would come either way, she knew.

Despite the fight, they had been able to repair things and her and Javier were back to normal, having excellant sex she got paid for. Santi too, although the sex was different, it was still just as mind blowing. Santiago reminded her of a little puppy, desperate and eager and wanting so badly to please... and please he did.

She tried so hard with those two not to fall, but it was hard. Santiago was so sweet, so adoring, so fucking good. Javier was strong, gentle, passionate. Both of them made her feel safe and loved. Sometimes, when she was lonely and tired and a little drunk, Candy would fanaticize about what a life might be with either of them, if they wanted kids, what they would be like as her husband.

She couldn't be that far off, could she? They both cared about her, that much was obvious. Especially with Santi, he was so open, so loving, so adoring as he looked up at her with those big brown eyes with his mouth devouring between her legs... did he want her outside of this?

And Javi, the night he made up with her and brought her the Audry Heffburn poster... he hadn't paid her, he hadn't fucked her, he simply fingered her until she came three times on his soaked hand and tucked her safely into bed... would he want a life with her, where they could fuck every night and she could make him the food he was always munching on when stressed?

Hands wrapped around her waist.

"Hola, Candy, I havn't seen you hardly all night." Martin Lorea, the drug lord that her two favorite clients were after, and a frequent client of hers. His hands lifted up her skirt and slipped two fingers under her panties, feeling her soaked folds.

"Mmmm" Candy liked the way he touched her, it was no Javi, but it did feel like. "I've been busy."

"I can feel that." Martin references the cum dripping out of her. "Better do one more, bebita." He leans around her, cutting up the last of the coke into two lines and doing one himself. "I've got lots of plans for you tonight. Don't worry, I'll make it worth it."

He would. He always paid well, liking to flaunt his wealth. Candy did one last line, feeling everything become less and less clear around her, and she barely felt it as he bent her over the table a little too roughly and her face pressed into the wood.

Her skirt was lifted in front of all the party goer, and Candy did her best to put on a preformence.

She had to get out of here, and the only way was to find out information from Lorea to give to Javi.

**************

Yeeeeesh. That was a little dark than I intended. Don't worry, candy is okay! I'm trying to find a blance between not like, demonizing sex work, because this is a sex work safe blog, but also being honest about the realities of being a prostitute in Colombia in the 70's. its not always pretty, in fact its often ugly.

ANYWAY! My belovedest Fen and I are working on the next chapter and it's gonna be a goodie!

I'm doing what I do best, HIGH DRAMA! And Fen is gonna deliver some of the BEST smut with baby santi and his mommy issues.

This is a v smut focused series but im lowkey a little smut burned out and i got a lot of project im trying to wrap up so fen is being amazing and helping me. Plus, this particularly smut is riiiiiiiiggghhhttt up their ally. If you like subby men, check out fens great work at @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction esp fics like Trine, with subby! blue jones and Good Boy with steven grant

thank you for you're continued support! Only a few chapters left <3

I have a triple frontier fic my dark account, Room's on fire, with a totally different characterization of santi <3

Notes are going down with is fine but its kinda tiring doing all these tags and then people dont respond at all so if you can give me at least a like to show your still her or a comment, ill know to keep tagging you &lt;3

I have a update blog now too, @romana-updates

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[vaguely-yandere]

I am in love with the concept of a Rich and Powerful Yandere (A CEO of a Company for example) who always acts all Stoic, Dignified and Proud with everyone, except when they are with their Darling, with they Darling they act like a little puppy, always sticking to their Darling and being willing to do anything that they darling says, no matter how immoral or humiliating it is.

YES YES YES YES YES!!!!!! YOU GET IT!!!! WE???? SHARING AN ENTIRE BRAIN RN!!!!! ive thought this SO MANY TIMES and honestly, the "always stoic and quite frankly mean" stereotype of yandere is kinda overdone (but i love it when ppl manage to pull it off!! and no hate to ppl who like that kinda character!) and just. give me an uber rich stereotypical ceo yandere who, instead of buying ur house and forcing you to work for them, is just like "yes darling??? do you need something??? no?? here, take 100$ in cash just in case!!! love you!!! <333"

and i think their darling can do two ways! either a subordinate who has no fucking clue why the ceo of the fucking company is clinging to them or a high up person on the corporate ladder who is so fuckin annoyed with their yandere but can't say anything cause they're the fuckin CEO

with the subordinate darling, i think they'd be kinda stereotypical in a "office romance manga" sense. a shy, well mannered, very polite and kinda clumsy but very hardworking person with a shockingly lively sex life! and gosh, the CEO just eats it right up. you're just so cute and sweet and for the first time, someone is treating them like.. well, not like a monster! or royalty! you stand up to them sometimes and you put them in their place and *god they love it when you put them in their place!*

at first, people thought maybe they were just the doting type but no, they actually are completely submissive towards you and is unashamed of it. telling you to call them by their first name is public, giving you gifts and money, having their secretary bring you flowers and such (right before firing them and making you their secretary so they can look at you all day) (and then hiring a secret second secretary when they realize you have zero experience in that field)

and goodness, the day you get mad at them... the entire building can feel it. to you, they just look like they're moping but to everyone else they're having a complete rage fit. they snap at everyone, they yell at any tiny mistake, they'll take any opportunity to make one of their subordinates cry but the second they see you, they go back to looking like a kicked puppy, begging you to tell them what they can do to fix this and when you sarcastically tell them to punch themselves in the face... you turn around and find them with a broken nose and blood getting all over their expensive suit but with the happiest expression because you're *looking* at them.

with the second one, it's 100% more kinky but also comedic, I just know it.

you're fairly dominating and you have to be! you're in the cut throat business world and you are always fighting for your place at the table so it's only natural you're a bit suspicious when the CEO suddenly moves to your office building and follows you around all day and it's. well, it's fucking annoying. the yan isn't stupid (stupid in love, yes) so they notice how apprehensive you are about yelling at or scolding them in public areas so they bring you aside and are like "here's a contract that says i legally cannot fire you if you insult me in private" so. you let loose! and god, they fucking love it. they love it so so much, it makes them fall more and more in love with you every time they see that hateful look in your eyes, i just KNOW the ceo is a masochist with a HEAVY DOSE of servitude!!!! and if anyone is rude to you? you're venting about your day, you talk about all the people that called you a bitch, whatever? fired the next day. left to rot on the street. some you were grateful for but others, well, they were probably just having a bad day that day! so you ask the yan to rehire them and they do (albeit with a lot of complaints and whining and pouting)

and what happens if you lose your temper and slap them? at first, you're relieved because you finally let your anger out and then *mortified* because you just fucking slapped your boss and then next thing you know, they're on their knees in front of you, begging for forgiveness (while saying you can hit them again if you want to and trying to seem like they don't want it to happen but they really really want you to hit them again)

and i can already imagine, with either darling, the CEO gently reminding them to call them by their first name in a meeting while they have the classic "head on hand, heart eyes, dopey smile" look at you and you blush a bit and then another worker from a different company that's trying to form some sort of ally ship with yours calls them by their first name. immediately, the yanderes look just drops and they glare at them. to make it worse, the worker digs their hole deeper by telling you to "fetch them some water" or something rude like that and the entire room shakes from the yan slamming their hands down on the table

"get out."

"h-huh?"

"i said get out before i make you." and afterwards when you scold them for being rude, they lay whimpering at your feet and begging for forgiveness.

waaaahhh and imagine asking them to do something embarrassing in public! PDA, stepping in a dirty water fountain to fetch something you dropped, maybe you waved your hand at them dismissively and jokingly said "go make me a sandwich/go fix my car" and they just *fucking do it without a second thought*

"GET OUT OF THERE, YOUR SOCKS AND SHOES ARE OVER 500$!!!"

"but you asked me to do it? :("

and sometimes you use this power for evil, like pretending to be the CEO when someone is being rude to you but you also enjoy just messing around with them. your feet hurt? they'll give you a foot massage in the middle of the office. want a kiss in front of an important client? sure darling!!!! you call them dumb for the way they did something? "im so sorry my love, ill fix it right now!!" doesn't even fuckin matter what they're doing or who they're talking to, they'll do it. anyone else joke or even *act* friendly with them will get a stern glare and a disgusted look, meanwhile you call for their name and they bright up like they're seeing the sky for the first time in decades.

they could spend hours yelling at a secretary or worker for not representing their company image properly and when you smack their finger out of your coworkers face and tell them to chill out? on their knees, begging you for forgiveness. hell, if they had things their way, they'd work from home and spend all day attached at your hip. (on the darker side, they've looked into permanent handcuffs multiple times and you bet your ASS they have one of those "infinity collar"s that they gave you the key to)

[delopsia]

Flowers In November (3/4) Rhett x Reader

Word Count: 11,570 ♡‧₊˚ AO3 Cross-Post ♡⊹˚₊ Flowers In November Masterlist₊˚⊹♡ Warnings: Fem!Reader. Briefly mentioned abusive relationships (not involving reader), improper disposal of a horse's corpse, l-bombs, oral sex, physical and verbal altercations, blood, unprotected sex, inappropriate use of a firearm, lying to a police officer, multiple mentions of food and cooking.

Part 2 ♡⊹˚₊ Part 4

Sometimes, you feel like Rhett's family raised him to be like this, not so he would be a good man, but because it would be easy to take advantage of his kind heart.

It certainly feels like it from your perspective. Perry works twice a week and has trainers that work with the kelpies for him. Royal and Cecelia don't do a whole lot of anything; Cecelia busies herself with fostering young puppies and kittens, but nobody knows what Royal does all day.

You don't know much about ranching, but it can't take an entire day to look after one singular bison and two horses.

The birthday party is the third time you've seen him; he's standing in his driveway, talking to the girl who chased you down with a knife. Autumn. Is that what he does all day?

Amy is both easy and hard to find. A crowd follows her everywhere she goes, fussing over her every movement. She doesn't find much enjoyment in it. A big scar ripples across her hairline, reminding you of the one Autumn bears. Even from here, you can tell she's miserable.

"Y'alright over here?" Rhett's low drawl is a welcome sound.

Glancing away from the window, you nod, "just got a little overwhelmed, is all."

Nobody told you that practically half the state would be attending this party. All gathered up in the backyard, so many voices that become a big jumble of noise. Impossible to decipher. Suffocating to listen to.

"Yeah...I had no idea it would be that many people, either," he settles across from you, leaning against the kitchen island; it's strange to see him in a plain black tee after all these months of seeing him almost exclusively wear plaid flannels.

Have his eyes always been that blue?

"They didn't invite this many people to your parties when you were a kid?" Eyebrows raising as you speak, surprised.

When you don't get an answer, you glance back outside. The sun should be setting, but it's completely blocked out by heavy clouds. Large, nearly jet black in color, towering high into the sky. It looks like an oversized blanket, ready to cover you any moment. The weather forecast said it wouldn't rain today. You don't buy it.

Rhett sucks his lower lip, shaking his head, "never had one, actually."

A part of you wishes it could be shocked. For your jaw to hit the floor over this revelation...but you can't say you're the slightest bit surprised. "Not even one?"

"Think there may have been a party after I turned one," he recalls with a hum, "but that's it."

"What about Perry?" It's challenging to make yourself sound genuinely curious when you've got the answer already.

"I think...he quit having them after he turned eighteen," his hand rubs the underside of his scruffy chin, audibly disturbing the stubble there, "why?"

He really doesn't notice it, does he?

"Why in God's name are you two lingering in my kitchen?" Speak of the devil; there's Cecelia, walking into the kitchen with a purpose in her step. "We're about to cut the cake; go on, shoo."

"Sorry, ma," Rhett's eyes meet yours as he nods his head toward the door, doesn't need to say much else.

Walking toward the back door feels like you're about to meet your demise. The commotion of voices grows louder with every step until it's built into a muffled wave. Barely held back by this thick wooden door.

"You don't want to go out there either, do you?" His observation is spot on.

It's just a crowd. It's just...a crowd. "I'd rather if that hole opened up and swallowed the both of us."

Right now, it looks like he wishes for the same thing to happen. Chewing on his thin lower lip, hand hovering over the door knob. He looks behind himself, then, quietly, "come on."

But he doesn't open the door.

No, he takes your hand and pulls you around a corner, down a winding hallway that looks familiar yet foreign. All this money, and yet every hallway looks the same.

"Where are we going?" You whisper, tripping over your own two feet. "Rhett—"

You run straight into his broad back; he's stopped, backtracking before you can register what is going on. One strong arm loops around your waist. Effortlessly pulls you into a closet you've never seen before. Dark, tiny, cramming you up against his chest.

Outside the door, Cecelia walks by. Stops. "Do you need any help carrying the cake?"

Even your breathing feels too loud. "Why are we hiding?"

"Shh," the sound breathed against your temple.

It's hard to focus on what is going on when his hand presses on the small of your back, coaxing you closer. Until there isn't a centimeter of space between your bodies. His cheek is squished against the top of your head, arms wrapped around your waist, absolutely engulfing you.

Faint leathery notes kiss your nose, lingering from his cologne, vaguely musky in that warm sort of manner. You think you could bathe in it for the rest of your life.

Cecelia continues to fuss over the cake outside the door as they roll it down the hallway. Utterly oblivious to her son and his stowaway hiding mere inches away. But the rolling continues, deep, vibrating through the house.

A sharp, earsplitting crack rings out, a heavy, elephant-sized fist hitting the ground.

"It's okay, it's okay," you don't realize you've jumped until Rhett's pulling you down from it, bringing you impossibly closer, "I've got you, baby."

His chest is big enough that you nearly drown in it, so entirely encompassed by it. But, man, how could you mistake the sound of rolling thunder?

"It's just a storm," reassuring you, "if we sneak out now, we might be able to beat it."

Somewhere between the thunder and Rhett bringing you down from shock, Cecelia has disappeared, and so has the cake. In fact, as Rhett reopens the door, not a soul is inside.

"How is everyone still outside?" What kind of world is this, where people don't come running inside the moment thunder cracks?

"Half them probably ain't sober," you're unsure of when Rhett got ahold of your hand, but he's gently pulling you toward the front door, fingers carded together so perfectly that it's dizzying.

The door squeaks open.

"Perry?" Both you and Rhett in unison.

But Perry doesn't seem to hear you. His eyes are locked on the floor, holding the door open, not stepping through it. Frigid air rushes through the gaps, clawing at your skin with its icy fingers. Feet patter against the ground behind you.

"I confessed."

Rhett stiffens. His grip on your hand is like iron. "What are you talkin' about?"

"I left a voicemail for the sheriff," behind him, lightning flickers, "I took the blame for killing the horse."

Rhett drops your hand. At first, you think he's going to charge Perry right here and now. He doesn't. Instead, he stares at the wall beside you, clenching and unclenching his scarred fists.

Scars that he bears because of Perry's lie.

"Perry," you aren't sure where Cecelia came from, but she speaks with a glass voice, "after all we did to protect you?"

"It's okay," finally removing his eyes from the ground; Perry smiles, "all they'll do is give me a fine since I confessed."

Royal steps past you; he blocks you from the cold like a shield. "And you'll pay it with what money, Perry?"

Perry's gaze fixates on Rhett.

Rhett growls. "No."

"Rhett—"

"—I'm not killin' my fuckin' cattle so you can pay for your goddamn fine!" Cecelia's voice is shattered by the roar that ripples out of Rhett's throat. Such a sudden shift in tone that you find yourself backing away.

"You can always breed more," Royal's focus shifts to the youngest, "it's not like your golden touch is going to run out."

A weak breath puffs out of Rhett's mouth. Incredulous. "Nobody's fuckin' buying gold no more," reaching up, Rhett claws at his hair, yanking on it as hard as he can, "you wanna know why? Because you ruined the market when you took half my livestock to pay for the shit you can't fuckin' afford."

"Rhett," gentle as ever, Cecelia steps up to the batting plate, "honey, remember, he's your brother."

"Relation doesn't make you entitled to Rhett's cattle," it was only meant to be an inner thought, but it slips from your lips like a breath of air.

Perry slams the door behind him, "you need to keep your goddamn mouth—"

It takes you a moment to realize why Perry recoils the way he does, blocking his face with his arms as he stumbles to the side.

Fresh blood drips from Rhett's trembling knuckles. It looks like he's fixing to go after Perry again, but he stops midway, eyes fixating directly on you.

He walks away from the fight.

"You wouldn't tolerate me raising my voice at Amy or Rebecca," he remarks as he steps past his parents, "so don't tolerate it from him." Then, eerily calm, he approaches you, nods down the hallway, a silent request.

"You don't start a fight and walk away before it's finished." Royal barks, but he makes no move to go after him.

"And I'd knock his teeth so far down his throat that he'll spit 'em out single file," the corner of Rhett's lips tilts up, "but a man never starts a fight in front of a lady."

As quickly as the argument started, it ends. Perry doesn't go after Rhett; perhaps his pride is too hurt to risk another blow. Royal, albeit red-faced, imaginary steam billowing from his ears, remains frozen by his eldest.

People are coming in now, washing through in inconsiderate waves, pushing, shoving. A broad shoulder clocks your own and effortlessly shoves you from Rhett's side. Crossing the hallway feels like wading through a violent sea; the only thing keeping your head above water is the calloused hand that catches your wrist, guiding you through.

"Y'okay?" He checks in when you've found a space devoid of guests.

Your shoulder throbs, but you force a smile, "yeah."

Just past the kitchen, there's a side door that leads to the barn where Royal's stablehands are looking after your horses. Rhett only opens the door by a few inches, but the wind whistles through the gap, frigid from the rain that comes down in sheets. The barn is massive, painted a new shade of pearl white that seems to glow at night, but now, you can hardly see it.

"In hindsight," massaging his bloody knuckles, Rhett shuts the door with his hip, "maybe we should have run for this door instead."

"With our luck, we wouldn't have made it halfway before the rain started," your teeth chatter as you wrap your arms around yourself. Even with the door closed, it feels like the icy wind still has a hold on you.

Rhett hums, "or that hole would reopen and put us up on the moon."

You don't know if it's your visible shiver or if he's feeling particularly affectionate, but Rhett wraps his arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his warm side.

Wordless, his stubbled chin rests against your temple, some comfortable intertwinement of bodies that barely misses the qualifications for a hug. So close that you can hear his every breath, the soft 'hm?' when you open your mouth, only to close it again.

Lightning flashes, taking with it the electricity flowing throughout the house. It's barely eight o'clock, but it's grown so dark that one can easily mistake it for midnight.

The storm doesn't let up, surrounding the house with its fury, shaking the walls and battering the windows with half-frozen raindrops. It doesn't stop the guests from fleeing to their fleets of cars; Perry and his daughter vanish without a goodbye. The disappearing thing must run into the family because even Cecelia cannot decipher where Royal wandered off. Or maybe she does find him because soon, she disappears too.

"Think we might be spending the night in my old bedroom," Rhett yawns after some time, "this storm doesn't sound like it's fixin' to leave anytime soon."

His yawning triggers you to yawn, "can you even find it in a house this big?"

You can't see it, but you know he's rolled his eyes, "yes, ma'am, I can."

Taking you by the hand, he leads you around corner after corner, of which you can hardly see. It's a blessing that you don't knock over a figurine or a vase or that you don't trip while walking up the never-ending stairs.

His bedroom is so bare that you can see how empty it is, even in the dark.

"Damn," yawning again, "I was hoping you'd have something embarrassing in here." Above all, the room is remarkably tiny, barely enough to house the bed and dresser.

"This twin bed is embarrassing enough," an old rocking chair sits next to the bed, crammed into the corner. The wood squeaks under Rhett's weight when he settles into it.

"Please don't tell me you're planning to sleep in the rocking chair," you tease as you sit on the edge of the mattress; it's nothing special, the one he has at home is much nicer, but it works.

Audibly, the chair rocks, "bed's all yours."

"It's a bed, Rhett," leaning back against it, you realize that maybe it's a little worse than you initially thought. How can a mattress be so lumpy? "Your shoulder will be sore in the morning."

"'ts already gonna be sore," he quips, "I'll be fine. Don't worry, your pretty little mind about me."

You want to push it further, but arguing with Rhett is like arguing with a damn wall. Stubborn. Bull-headed. As immovable as a mountain. The bed is just as uncomfortable beneath the covers, the sheets so thin that you might as well have stayed on top of them.

The weather sounds much like it did the night you fell through the hole. Wind screams around the corners of the house, pounding against it with such rage that you fear it's coming to get you. You wish you were safe at home, cozied up on the couch while Rhett's old battery-powered radio sings a tune to distract you from the storm's roar.

Lightning cracks, ear-splittingly loud, tearing apart the silence so suddenly that your body jolts.

No, no, no, you don't like this at all. This is too similar. What if the hole swallows you up right here and now? You don't know what to think; deep down, your gut twists as memories of home cloud your head. But if it comes for you, what about Rhett? Nyx? Isabela?

What are you meant to do when your heart is torn between two places?

You can't have both, no matter how much you—

"You're okay," Rhett's voice comes to you as a light at the end of a tunnel, "'s just a storm."

For a man as large as him, he's moved silently, now sitting on the edge of the bed. The lightning lights up the room, gracing you with the briefest glimpse of his face, contorted with concern and something you can't quite name.

"Do you want me to lay with you until it calms down?" Coming from anyone else, it would sound odd. But, with Rhett, it's the only thing that feels right in this world.

Shallowly, you nod, and he lifts the edge of the comforter.

The bed is far too tiny for a man of his stature, barely capable of holding him, let alone you as well. But he fits, pressed so close to you that it's all you can comprehend.

"Do these storms always shake you up like this?" Running his big hand against your cheek.

"Not always," although you're sure that could be true if thunderstorms were more frequent during the winter, "this one ...reminds me a lot of the night I was brought here."

A puff of air escapes his mouth, a remnant of what's supposed to be a laugh, "scared another hole will pick you up and carry you to another good-for-nothing cowboy?"

Shy, your hand crawls up on its own accord, "no," wavering as it curls around his unshaven cheek, "I'm scared it'll take me away from this cowboy right here."

This time, he doesn't have the words to respond.

Thunder rattles the foundation of the house, shaking you like a snow globe. Rhett's silence rings even louder, and the longer his lips stay closed, the heavier your heart feels.

Shit. You shouldn't have said that.

"I wish we had the radio to distract us from the storm," you croak, drawing your gaze to the sheets below you, anywhere that doesn't involve Rhett and his eyes.

His hand against your cheek moves, curling around the back of your head, "maybe this will distract you."

The brush of his lips against yours is so feathery light that it feels like you've been kissed by a ghost. His lightness is not to be mistaken for hesitance; no, it's an unspoken promise to wait until you're ready for them.

You've never been so ready for something in your life.

You meet him the rest of the way, and the world around you is quiet. Not even the storm or your pounding heart is loud enough to distract you from the softness of his lips as they mold with your own.

It breaks, but he doesn't back away. Hot breath fans against each other's lips, Rhett's nose nudging against your cheek, and you can't tell if it's you or him who closes the gap again.

Kissing Rhett feels like kissing a daydream, lips dancing like old lovers do, slow, calculated, knowing, your noses bumping into cheeks with the same clumsiness of teenagers. Teeth clacking together because you've both begun to smile into it. So perfect and yet so clumsy.

"I'm sorry," his tone airy as he chuckles against you, "I'm trying not to smile, but the more I think about it, the worse it gets."

As quickly as the kiss began, it dissolves into a fit of giggles, the both of you sinking back into the mattress. Every time you think you've gotten over it, Rhett's eyes meet yours, and it starts all over again, your cheeks aching with it.

"You'd best be careful, darlin'," he warns as you peck his lips, "I might get addicted to these."

Stealing a second kiss now, "I don't see an issue here."

He pulls you back in so quickly that by the time you register it, your lips have crashed together like colliding galaxies. Explosions of color decorate the underside of your eyelids, tingling across your cheeks and down your back; if your eyes were open, you'd see them dancing around the room like novelty sparklers.

Rough stubble scratches your chin, something that should be uncomfortable, but it only serves to make you gasp into the kiss. Your hands wander up into his hair, curling into those messy locks. Otherwise, you'd float up into the ceiling and never come back down. His arm secures around your back, fingers between your shoulder blades, and you're confident he can feel your heart hammering against your chest.

"That distractin' enough?" He teases, panting against your lips.

As much as you already love kissing this man, your neck aches from the strain of this angle. This shared pillow beneath you is a blessing in disguise. "I like to think so."

Who would have thought that Rhett Abbott would make such a perfect kisser? And a cuddle bug to boot. Effortlessly curling himself around you, wrapping you in his strong arms in such a perfect, comfortable manner. As if these arms were built to hold and keep you safe.

And only you.

He's the first to fall asleep, the curve of his nose resting against your forehead, fitting like a puzzle piece. You've seen him asleep multiple times before, but this is the first you've ever seen him wear a smile to bed.

That isn't the position you wake in, though.

At some point, you roll onto your opposite side, barely clinging to the edge of the bed. There's something heavy looped around your waist, a light pressure between your shoulder blades.

"Rhett?"

"Hm?" Vibrating against your spine, sending shivers crawling up your neck.

In your sleep-clouded mind, it all feels like a dream, fuzzy around the edges, as palpable as a daydream. But the sensation of Rhett's fingertips drawing circles into your tummy feels too real to be your imagination.

This room is so cold that you can hardly feel your cheeks; maybe that's why Rhett runs as hot as a wildfire. His hands are blazing, heat radiating off his chest. So close, yet far enough away that you've found yourself squirming back into him, selfishly seeking out more of his warmth.

"Did you sleep—ah," the sound so airy and sudden that it takes you a moment to realize what triggered it, "...careful with those hips, doll."

That isn't his belt buckle pressing against your ass...is it.

Maybe it's the sleepiness preventing you from making good choices. Perhaps you're simply a menace. But something makes you squirm against him again, seeking out that beautiful, airy moan.

And hear it, you do.

"Fuck," muffling the rest of his words by hiding his face in your back, big hand seizing your wandering hips, halting them completely. That fleeting sound alone is enough to get you hooked; you want to hear it again and again and again.

"Don't get nothing out of it, my ass," giggling at the feeling of his breath tickling your sensitive skin.

The hand on your hip trembles slightly, "it's different when it's been a few years since..." On their own, he twitches forward, barely able to hold back his pleased gasp when his cock rubs against your ass once more. "Fuck, 'm sorry; I didn't mean to..."

"It's alright," your mouth feels dry, suddenly aware of what's about to come off your tongue, "I sort of...liked it."

Rhett rises, sitting up straight in bed. God, hell, fuck, shit, you shouldn't have said that—

He's moving again, but he's not getting out of bed and fleeing as you expected. No, he rolls you onto your back, meeting your gaze with half-lidded eyes, torn between sleepy and something darker.

Leaning down, he meets your lips with his own. Once, twice, until you chase him on the third, refusing to settle for another simple peck. It's anything but the kiss you shared last night; lazy, open-mouthed as your tongues meet for the briefest of periods, sliding against each other until your lips shimmer in the light.

"Part your legs for me, darlin'," his request is met with the near-instant spreading of your legs, allowing him to slide between them. His hips are much broader than yours, putting a foreign ache in your lower back as you adjust to him.

If his proportions are consistent, you're in for a world of trouble.

"What're you doing?" Although, you can't complain when he braces his forearms on either side of your head, veins bulging, rippling up into his thick biceps.

"I'm not fixin' to take and give nothin' in return," those hips roll down, his clothed cock brushing deliciously between your legs, so close to where you crave him most.

Some readjusting is needed, but it only takes three tries for him to get it right, the motion dragging the underside of his length against your pussy.

"Rhett," clinging to his forearms as he grinds past your clit, "there."

"That where you want me, hm?" He murmurs, repeating the motion, "fuck, you feel good."

The soft whimper, the dizzying roll of those deep blues. Nothing you expected from this big old cowboy. Just the sight of him has a wet heat pooling between your legs, desperate for more, more, more.

A light hand knocks at the door. "Rhett, you and your girl in there?"

Your little crystal world shatters into a million pieces.

Scrambling, Rhett's feet hit the ground, barely quick enough to get the blanket back overtop you before the door squeaks open.

"We're in here," there's a damp spot on Rhett's slacks, "was just fixin' to get up and get out of your hair."

Thankfully, Cecelia doesn't put two and two together. Not your equally swollen lips or the heavy tent that strains against the fabric of his pants. All she see's is her son and his half-awake friend.

...friend.

That thought bugs you for the rest of the day.

Neither of you has discussed this, and no moves have been made to sort it out. It's confusing. Rhett kisses you like an old lover, familiar and passionate, but aside from the heart-fluttering pet names, he acts no differently.

But it's hard to jump to conclusions when he immediately has to go to work once you get home, leaving you with a kiss at nine. A text on your phone reminds you he'll be late, but the voice in your head tells you he's avoiding you.

You go to bed before he gets home.

You wake minutes later to a chaste kiss on your temple and the sweetest whisper of a goodnight you've ever heard.

And then you can't go back to sleep.

Motherfucker.

"Oh, I thought you were asleep," Rhett sputters, caught red-handed in the kitchen, halfway into his bite of cold pizza.

Yawning, you reach across the island to steal a cold pepperoni, "I thought I was too."

Here you'd thought you could sleep the night away, and now you're wide awake, wired like you've chugged a cup of coffee. Worse, your mind isn't racing; you simply cannot sleep.

Rhett's keys jingle. Maybe you can't sleep, but you're tired enough to have missed him reaching for them.

"I have an idea." And that's all the elaboration you receive.

Bundled in his old rodeo jacket and with an armload of blankets, you walk out to the truck, awake enough for questions to fill your head, too tired to voice them. Rhett's truck has seen better days; the front bumper is crumpled, and the passenger-side headlight is held in by ducktape and high hopes. But the vehicle runs, so he hasn't bothered to fix it.

As he drives through the field, the headlight wiggles more than it should, bobbing back and forth with the vehicle's motions. You worry it will fall out, but it stays.

In the middle of his property, Rhett puts it in park.

"What are we doing?" You ask, getting out after him.

Wordless, Rhett points at the sky. Where the stars twinkle and dance amongst each other, perfectly intertwined with their dark, velvety backdrop. Brightest of all lies the moon. Who comes up, so the night doesn't feel lonely, lending an ear to the souls who stay up to talk to him.

It's full tonight.

The hinges of the tailgate squeal as Rhett lowers it, "won't hurt your neck if you lay back here."

There are enough blankets to cushion you from the metal truck bed. Not as comfortable as the bed at home, but it'll do.

"All this, just to watch the stars," you can't resist teasing him while you situate yourself next to him, lying flat on your back.

"Can't seem 'em as well from the house," Rhett muses, "barn lights tend to drown it out."

Around you, the world is hushed. Not a sound to be found, aside from the faint squelch of Rhett sucking on his own tongue. His eyes flick to you but dart away when you acknowledge his gaze.

Tilting your head to look at him, "spit it out."

His chest deflates like he's been waiting on you to say that. "Can I tell you somethin'?"

You nod.

He continues. "I helped Rebecca run away."

That—now you're awake. "What made you do it?"

"You know how Perry...flew off the hinges when he first met you?" Then, tilting his head, he holds his hand up, quietly asking for you to take it. "He was like that with her and Amy."

You shouldn't comply, but you do, slipping your small hand into his. It's not much, but how he squeezes it makes it seem that he really needed it.

"About a year ago, she showed up at my door with a gash so deep I could see her skull," eyes bolting shut, as if he's afraid the image will appear in front of him, "I knew it was bad, but I didn't..."

Unsure of what to do, you squeeze his hand in return, "how did you do it?"

"Threw firecrackers into the kelpie pond and started a panic." Barely steadying his shaky breath, he goes on, "I had her car runnin' in the driveway; all she needed to do was hop in and gun it, but..."

"But?"

"Perry caught on," fidgeting with your fingertips, "nearly scalped the poor girl dragging her away from the car."

Like a jigsaw puzzle, it all clicks. Nyx's avid dislike for Rhett. Perry's hostility toward you. Amy's scar. The mystery that clouds Rebecca.

"I know this is...sudden," his voice is as watery as the tears that seep from the corner of his eyes, "but I can't stand keeping it from you."

The guilt eats at him so strongly that it spills over and comes for you as well, nibbling at your psyche with its sharp teeth and bottomless stomach. Turning, you reach out to cradle his cheek, freshly shaved but still scruffy.

"You don't have to bare all your secrets to me if you're not ready," whispering softly, barely loud enough to break through his sniffles.

"That's the thing," you don't think you'll ever be able to handle the sight of those eyes so full of tears, can barely stomach the tremble in his hand as he covers the one on his cheek. "You mean a lot to me, and I want to ask if you feel the same, but I can't do that when I know I'm keeping things from you."

He freezes.

You freeze.

The world freezes.

In the blink of an eye, you've been filled with ice, frozen solid into this very spot. Yet, he is the same person to thaw them. His warm hands holding yours. Those rushed words that rattle about your brain until they shake something loose.

"I'm sorry," wide-eyed panic replaces those painful tears, "I didn't mean to say that all at once I-I know you don't—"

"—fool," and you kiss him.

It's an awkward clatter of teeth and lips; your necks strain with the angle, but it's all you could have ever asked for. Rhett Abbott is the man you've always dreamed of; all boiled down into this wonderfully sweet cowboy that has ruined you for anyone else.

You kiss him, and he kisses you back, over and over. Seizing him by the collar, you pull him closer until he complies and clambers on you, barely breaking your fragile liplock. His kisses are greedy, eating you up, frenzied for no reason other than just because. Doesn't part until your lungs burn so deeply that everything begins to spin.

"Fuck," heaving for his breath, Rhett presses his nose against yours, "you are something else."

It's impossible to stop yourself. "Some would say I'm out of this world."

His eyes roll so hard that all you see are the whites. "I knew I fucked up when I told you that joke."

Even that is not enough to stop the kisses from coming. Breathy, lips so loosely tangled that one can hardly describe it as a kiss. They travel up, one on your nose, between your eyes, against your forehead. Then your noses are pressing back together, and even up close, you can't get enough of how he closes his eyes and smiles.

"You're the greatest thing that's ever happened to me," and when he says your name at the end of the sentence, it sounds like a melody. "Y'know that?"

Through the conflict of your heart, split between worlds, you find yourself in silent agreement.

Cupping his cheeks, you squish them together, wrenching an amused chuckle from him, "sometimes, I don't believe you're real."

If someone told you that he was an angel, you fear you may believe them.

Because what earthly being scoops you up like a feather and carries you bridal style to his passenger seat? Tucking you in with all the blankets you can hold because he thought he saw you shiver. And then carries you right to bed, saying it's something he has always wanted to do.

"You always look so comfy in my bed," he grins once you're comfortably snuggled into the sheets. The bed dips as he sits next to you, reaching down to run his fingers against your scalp, "your little eyes are barely open."

How are you meant to keep your eyes open when he's rubbing your head like that? Stroking you like one would a cat, nails dragging against your skin. If you could, you would be purring right about now.

"You calling me small?" Your attempt to sound annoyed is lost as a wave of sleepiness overtakes you, pulling you into the murky depths of unconsciousness.

"Compared to me?" Warm breath against your forehead as he presses a kiss there, "absolutely."

A part of you almost wishes he hadn't done that because now your skin feels impossibly cold, frost settling where he once warmed you. Would it be weird to ask the question resting heavily on your tongue?

The mattress rises as he stands, boots pattering across the hardwood; if you're going to ask, you need to do it now.

"Will you stay with me?"

Silence.

Those boots start to move, but they're not walking away. They're coming closer. Shoes land on the floor and the dresser drawer squeaks open. Just in time to catch it, your eyes open, landing on Rhett's frame as he yanks his jeans off. They catch on his briefs, yanking them down enough for you to catch a glimpse of a scar on the side of his left ass cheek.

"Is that your family brand on your ass?" Wide awake now.

In the blink of an eye, Rhett's face goes beet red. "I...yes?" Fumbling a little faster now, he reaches for his plaid pajama pants, squirming into them. "Perry and I got drunk one night, and our old buddy did brandings as a side job."

Drunk Rhett sounds like a hell of a person to be around.

This may be the first time Rhett has laid in this bed since your arrival; by the looks of it, he's sure missed it. His eyes flutter as he momentarily lies on his back, tension leaking from his muscles like a bad memory. It's a hell of a sight to take in.

But then he starts to giggle, and you realize you've been caught staring.

"C'mon," opening up his arms, "snuggle in."

Your body fits so perfectly against him, comfortably cuddled up to him in this big, cozy bed. Wandering fingertips crawl under your shirt, stroking up and down the base of your spine. It doesn't tickle like you thought it would; instead of making you laugh, those calloused fingers seem to be massaging every thought from your sleep-clouded brain.

"This what you wanted?" His deep voice rumbles against your scalp, rattling around your skull.

All you can do is hum, unable to move your tongue to speak. Rhett shifts, and vaguely, you're aware of his arm sliding under your pillow. It only allows him to hold you better, long leg snaking between yours until you're so intertwined that you can't tell who begins and ends where.

Slowly, your eyes become heavier.

And heavier.

And the next time you pry them open, it's daylight.

Like yesterday morning, you've rolled over in your sleep...and Rhett's arm is draped around you, anchoring you to his warm body. There's no way that's really him; he's never stayed home this late. But there he is, eyes opening as soon as he's registered you moving, with that dopey look on his face.

"Shouldn't you be at work?" It's difficult to conceal the surprise that laces your tone.

His bicep flexes, pulling you a few inches closer, "didn't wanna move."

If you could have it your way, the two of you would never leave this spot. Warm, tranquil, flawless. Even when you start to sweat, weighed down by both a furnace of a man and the bed sheets, you can't find it in yourself to budge.

Until you spot a smudge of black along Rhett's cheek, bugging you so much that you crack. Licking the pad of your thumb, you wipe it away.

"Why are you licking me?" He whines, eyes scrunching shut.

Dramatic.

But as much as you'd like to lay in bed with him all day long, work calls. The cattle and their appetite wait for no man, and Nyx is already fussy enough when her breakfast is five minutes late. You think you can already hear her impatient whistles.

Like he did yesterday, Rhett leaves you with a kiss on the lips. Deep down, it feels like the sparks of a routine; you've already found yourself looking forward to it every morning. No matter where you are or the time, Rhett has to steal a kiss, or he may drop dead on the spot. Placing them on your cheeks when you're asleep, waiting on you to finish brushing your teeth, catching you in the middle of the living room.

And it's all so painfully, Rhett.

Your first date comes by surprise.

The first calf drops three weeks earlier than she should have, surprising Rhett so much that you had to come and verify that the little fella was real. This herd has a reputation for snowballing; once one comes, they all do. According to Rhett, there is always at least one calf who, for various reasons, cannot nurse and needs to be bottle-fed.

"This year, I'm gettin' it early," he tells you on your walk back to the house, "I ain't doin' the whole 'emergency rush to every feed store in the state' this year."

And it's off to a feed store thirty minutes outside of Wabang, situated next to a family diner. It just happens to be dinner time. The warm aromas waft through the sliding doors, following you around the store like a stubborn memory. You didn't come here to get dinner, but as you stand and look at these chicks, you can't quit thinking about it.

"I knew I'd find you over here." You take it all back; you can definitely quit thinking about food if you have those biceps to stare at. Bulging under the weight of the bag he's carrying over his shoulder, prominent veins decorating the muscle.

"Your chickens are very different from the ones I'm familiar with," observing aloud; there certainly aren't any two-headed chicken breeds or six-footed ones where you come from. The only relatively normal chicks are tiny white ones called Kettles, whose peeps sound like tiny whistling kettles.

"Yeah?" Reaching down, Rhett disturbs one of the two-headed babies, grinning as it pecks his finger, "d'ya want some?"

"Do you even have a chicken coop?" Last you checked, the barn was the only structure nearby the house.

Shaking his head, "I can build one if you give me a week or so."

While you love the idea, you're not too sure. These Kettles are cute; their sign says they're beginner friendly, looking more like balls of fluff than anything else.

You'll think about it.

Outside the store, the scent from the diner slams you like a freight train; man, you want to go in there. In fact, you can hardly take your eyes off the building. Miss Molly's is nothing more than a hole in the wall, so tiny that it's a wonder if they get much business, but whatever they're cooking has you about to drool.

If Rhett didn't have work to do around the ranch, you'd ask to go in, but you know he's busy as it is. This was only meant to be a quick run to get milk replacer, nothing more.

Rhett's not pulling out of the parking lot.

Instead, he's looking at you, hand resting on the gear shift, the other propped on his steering wheel. "Do you want to go in there, doll?"

"I do," gulping, "but you're busy with work on the ranch—"

"—nonsense," quick to cut you off as he opens the door, "chores can wait a few hours."

Either your standards are low, or Rhett Abbott is a man sent from the heavens.

The inside of the restaurant is exactly how you pictured it, red cushioned booths, black and white checkered tile stretching across the room, reeking of the 50s. Accurate right down to the questionably sober waitress who treats you like an old friend rather than a customer.

Does this count as a date?

"I'm the last person you should be asking that question," Rhett shrugs, and only now do you realize you've said your thought out loud, "I ain't never done stuff like this before."

Your world screeches to a halt so suddenly that you can hear the breaks squeal. "You haven't?" There's no way a man like him hasn't been on a date before, but sure as day, he mouths a no.

The food takes a while, but Rhett's so good at making time fly that you can hardly believe he's never done something like this. Playing with your feet under the table. A little game of how far you can run your foot up each other's leg until someone giggles.

Rhett almost wins until you find a particularly sensitive area on his inner thigh, his stoic expression shattering instantly.

Rain begins to fall minutes after you get your food. Given away by the loud pitter-patter of droplets hitting the tin roof, so loud that you can hardly hear what's playing on the radio. Not quite a storm, but the clouds are heavy enough to make the outside look darker than usual.

After you've eaten and the bill is paid, you idle outside the door. Hidden underneath the overhang, where only the mist can get to you. The idea was to wait until the rain let up, but it's showing no sign of slowing. This was a bad day to park in the middle of the lot.

"There's only one way to deal with this," Rhett concludes after a while.

But before you can comprehend what he's on about, he grins at you and runs out into the rain.

"Rhett!" Squeaking, you run after him without much thought. Frigid water droplets pelt against your skin like tiny bullets, soaking you.

In front of you, Rhett turns around, laughing as you scamper after him, unbothered by it all. The tattered cowboy hat he wears is doing its best to protect him from the rain, but it can only do so much. His cheeks shiny, eyes sparkling with something fond.

"Are you mad?" Barely within earshot, the weather covering most of your words, "it's pouring!"

There's something he's trying to say, but he can't seem to speak through his upturned lips. So wholly, utterly pleased with himself that he's become incapable of doing anything else.

You stop before him, shielding your eyes from the onslaught of water, "Rhett?"

Wordless, he reaches out to curl his hand around your cheek, holding you there as he leans down.

There were many things you expected to happen today. Rhett intentionally kissing you in the pouring rain after your first date was not one of them.

But oh, his lips are soft. Melting away every ounce of care from your body as they move. Slow, encouraging you to take this impromptu dance with him. And for as unplanned as it is, it's so mindbogglingly delicate, as if your lips are made of glass.

He's curling his arm around your waist, cinching you into his chest; your knees nearly go out from under you when he sucks your lower lip, tugging it between his teeth. Beneath the shield of his hat, you feel as if you've caught on fire.

Distant thunder rumbles, the only thing that can shake you two apart.

By the time you clamber into the truck, you're anything but dry. Clothes drenched, the ends of Rhett's hair dripping like he's just had a shower. Your teeth are chattering; the only thing Rhett can do is laugh.

In the back of your head, you wonder how long he's wanted to do that.

There's a blanket in the seat, left over from your star-gazing venture, but it's not much help when your clothes are the issue. Clinging to your body like glue, refusing to allow you any escape from the rainwater they carry.

Rhett reaches for the temperature gauge. "Cold?"

"A little bit," squeezing the blanket to your chest as if it will help your case any more than it already is.

Lifting the middle console, Rhett pats the now-open space, allowing you to slide into the newly emptied space. The truck may have great heat, but Rhett will always be the best at warming you. Always so remarkably warm, even now, when he has every reason to be cold. Even the dampness of his t-shirt cannot stop you from curling into his side as he drives.

"If we get sick," yawning, "it's your fault."

The truck bounces as the tires kiss the uneven gravel driveway, perpetually washed out every rainfall. Your seatbelt is the only thing preventing you from bouncing around like a ping-pong ball.

"Who says anything about me getting sick?" Cocky as ever, Rhett slings his arm around your shoulders, "I haven't so much as caught a cold since I was thirteen."

Selfishly, you hope a cold humbles him soon.

The house is not too far down the driveway, the gutters spewing enough water to make a lake out of. Isabela hides under her shelter, visibly peeved about the weather, but Nyx is in her element. Running along the fence line, following until she's had enough. You wonder if she misses swimming in the south pasture.

Rhett parks next to the house for once, only a few paces away from the front door. Convenient, considering you're too wet to complain about a little more rain. Before he opens the door, Rhett leans down, pressing a warm kiss into your cheek. Only meant to be one, but that's not enough for you. No, not when you're cold and eager to feel him against you again.

"Not so fast, mister," catching him by the collar, you yank him back down. The moment your lips meet, Rhett moans, loud and whiny, as he lets you have your way.

His rough stubble scratches against your skin in the most wonderous of ways, following your lead. What's only meant to be a few short kisses unravels into something so heated that you no longer feel cold. Your hands tangle in his soaked hair, knocking his hat off completely when you clamber into his lap. Rhett's everywhere. His nails rake down your clothed back, climbing down to grip your squirming hips as you situate yourself on top of him.

Tongue darting out, you try your luck by running it along his pale bottom lip. He welcomes you in with a gasp, meeting you halfway. Wet bodies stick together like velcro, but you can hardly pay it any mind when he licks into your mouth the way he does, chasing your fleeting tongue down. Eager to feel you against him, tangling in loose, sloppy circles. Effortlessly wrenching the air from your lungs, panting hot into each other's mouths.

"Like a fuckin' daydream on top of me," he says against your lips, "y'know that?" The way he looks up at you tells you that he means every word. Smitten.

Blindly reaching over, you find his soggy hat, placing it on your head, "you've got your head too far up in the clouds, cowboy."

And then it's out the door you go. Leaving Rhett to catch up while you dart into the house, giggling all the way. The hat is a touch big on you, threatening to blow off with the slightest breeze, forcing you to hold on to it as you round the corner.

The only indication that Rhett's following are the boots that follow close behind, echoing through the house as he runs you down.

Something flies over your head with a soft whooshing sound, cinching around your waist. You can't move any further, arms mysteriously bound to your sides.

Rhett's lassoed you.

"You ain't gettin' away from me that easy, darlin'," it's not the clothes that send a shiver down your spine as he approaches, looking you up and down like a wolf hungry for his meal.

"Is that so?" The back of your knees bump against the bed, "here to take your hat back, cowboy?"

As if that's his plan, he reaches up. Instead of taking it, he slides his hand under the brim and pushes it off your head. Paying no mind to where it lands.

"No," effortlessly, lifting your chin with a hooked index finger, making you look him directly in the eye, "just wanted to kiss my sweet girl again."

The rope prevents you from touching him as he closes the gap between your bodies, planting his lips on your forehead, then down to your nose. Yet he ghosts over your lips, hesitantly brushing against one another. Teasing, waiting for you to break.

You know you've found your moment when the rope slackens around your waist. Grabbing Rhett by the collar, you fall back against the bed, dragging him down with you.

"Whaddya do that for?" Sputtering, incapable of escaping as your legs lock around his hips. Once you've got your ankles crossed above his ass, he's trapped, has no choice but to let you take what you want.

"Because my sweet cowboy is too slow," you murmur between kisses. Each one growing longer than the last, warmer. "And we need to get these clothes off."

Rhett nips at your lip with his teeth. "I can think of a few ways to get them off."

"Then why don't you?"

Did you just say that?

Shit, you just said that.

He straightens, bracing himself on his forearms to hover over you, "yeah?"

"Yeah," you feel dizzy, just thinking about what that could entail.

The next time his lips land on yours, its

different.

Something new, nameless, lies in his movements. Deliberate in such a way that makes you feel known. His mouth explores yours like they're old friends, something familiar in how his tongue curls with yours. Tasting like the strawberry syrup from his pancakes, sweet enough to give you cavities. Addicting, growing harder and harder to resist.

You're reaching up, tangling your fingers in the hair that rests along his nape, pleased when he gasps into your mouth. With a groan, he pushes you further up the bed, allowing himself the room to fully climb into the bed. The grind of his clothed bulge over your cunt is unintentional. However, it's such a dizzying feeling that you struggle to believe it wasn't planned.

This is what you've wanted; Rhett Abbott between your legs, rosy-cheeked with those dreamy, half-lidded eyes fixated on you like you're the most valuable thing in the world. As if all he needs in this world is you. Not wealth, not status, not even this roof over your heads.

"Fuck," pulling away reluctantly, Rhett glances toward the bedside table, "I don't have condoms."

Just by the coaster lies your birth control, the plastic glinting in the lamp's light. Rhett's aware of it; he picked your prescription up when he visited town last week. The ball is in your court.

"I trust you," those three little words are as easy to breathe as air. And they make his eyes light up, lips quivering, but they fail to respond.

He makes up for what he lacks in speech with action; sitting up, he takes hold of the edge of his shirt and lifts it. Exposing miles upon miles of chiseled, milky white skin, the muscles in his abdomen flexing with his movements.

Oh, that chest.

Nothing on this planet can stop you from reaching up to run your hands along it, feeling the gentle curve of his pectorals. Whether or not your thumb intentionally rubs over his nipple is between you and God. The quiet gasp you receive is unlike anything you've ever dreamed of, flitting over your ears like your favorite song.

"Goin' right for my nipple, hm?" But when you retreat, he catches your wrist, guiding your palm back to his warm skin. His heart beats directly under your hand, growing heavier the longer your hand stays there, "you can touch me, doll."

Then he's back on you, groaning into your mouth as you run your hands up his back, seeking purchase there as he licks into your mouth, hungry. You find yourself clinging to him, clutching those beautiful shoulders as he pulls you closer, erasing what space may have been left between you.

It's you who rolls your hips first, feeling how deliciously his clothed cock feels against you. If you're thinking clearly, you're pretty sure you've felt him twitch against you; the only proof is a harsh noise from his throat.

"That what you're wantin', hm?" Taunting, he offers you a taste of what could be, grinding one slow, tantalizing circle into you. Later, you'll say it's unfair. But, right now, you're too caught up to complain.

Your involuntary inhale only makes him do it again, leaving your swollen lips in favor of kissing toward your jaw, dragging his tongue against your sensitive skin. Abruptly, they tear away, leaving you to feel nothing but his warm breath as he searches for a—

oh.

His lips have no right to feel that good. Sucking lightly on your neck, just inches beneath your ear. Briefly, his tongue soothes over it, licking wetly down to your collarbone. All the while, those blue eyes remain fixated on your expression, watching half-lidded as he laps at that sensitive bone.

On their own accord, his hands slide beneath your shirt, settling on your waist. Fingers press against your back, urging you upward. You comply, and he takes hold of your shirt, pulling the damp garment over your shoulders.

And for the first time, Rhett's eyes land on your unclothed body. So completely, utterly fixated on what lies beneath him that you squirm with discomfort, unable to read his expression.

"Fuck," leaning down, he presses a kiss to your upper chest, just above your cleavage, "fuck, you're beautiful."

Your bra prevents him from showering your breasts with attention, but it doesn't stop him for long. In fact, he takes it off of you so easily that it makes your head spin. Reaching behind you, pinching the material, and then it's loosening, coming off like nothing.

In its wake lies a thin indent where the elastic squeezed a bit too tightly at your body; that's the first thing Rhett notices. Presses a string of kisses against it, following from rib to rib. Then up, up, up, to your left breast, dragging his hot tongue along your nipple.

"Rhett," gasping his name, tangling your fingers in his dark hair as he sucks on the rapidly hardening bud. His mouth is so hot, tongue like molten lava on your body. Burning these motions into you, ruining you for anyone else.

Incapable of showering one with too much attention, he switches sides, flicking that pink tongue against your neglected nipple. "Has anyone told you how perfect you are?" Massaging the one that he's just left.

When such words come from Rhett Abbott, you can hardly ravage your memory enough to come up with an answer. Because the way he says it makes it feel like the first time those little words have met your ears.

Sinking further down the bed, kissing, licking down your belly, gaze fixated upon you all the while. He's hardly done anything yet, and you're already breathless. Those thick fingers hitch under your panty line, pause, waiting for your frantic nod for him to continue.

In one smooth motion, he pulls them down. Taking with them your pants and knocking your shoes clean off your feet. One sock remains; you can hardly pay it mind because his clinking belt buckle is too distracting. The belt snaps around his wrist as he tugs it off, wrangling it like a damn snake.

Subconsciously, your thighs clench together.

Rhett's caught it too, eyes glinting with something dark as he parts them, sinking between your legs. Words don't need to be shared.

Why are the cowboy's always hung like a horse?

"So pretty," he muses, pressing a kiss to your knee, then another, and another. Leading down to your sensitive inner thigh, suckling at the skin there until it leaves a faint mark. Wet spots glisten in the light, remarkably cold.

His nose brushes against your cunt, but he devilishly grins up at you, retreating to assault your neglected thigh. They'll be sore when he's done with you, the scattering of darkening marks already rearing their heads. Each and every suck of his mouth has you clenching around nothing, helplessly impatient for him.

"Fuck you're wet," and now that he's noticed, he's leaving your abused thighs alone, "this all for me, darlin'?"

Not if he takes any long—

"Rhett!"

All of a sudden, a broad, flat tongue licks up your cunt, so unexpected that you jump away from it. The hands on your hips tell you that you're not getting away from him as he swirls around your swollen clit. Hungry, a starved man between your legs that can't get enough of your taste.

"Could fuckin' die happy between these pretty legs of yours," speaking directly into your wetness, vibrating deliciously up your core, "y'know how long I've thought 'bout this?"

If he could have had his way, you wonder how many more times he would have sunk to his knees for you in the past.

Rhett sucks on your clit like it's candy, flicking his talented tongue over it, and you just can't seem to keep your hips still. Squirming, unsure of what to do with all this, the beautiful man between your legs, the slick noises, all of it.

He takes pity on you, letting go of it in favor of lapping downward until he's found your entrance, fluttering impatiently. Twice, he traces your rim with his tongue, then sinks in; the tip of his nose presses into your clit, opening you up on that hot, thick muscle, shallowly fucking you on it.

And the bastard maintains eye contact with you the entire time. Gauging your reaction, savoring how your eyes roll into the back of your head, struggling to contain your whimper.

Drawing back again, something thicker nudges between your legs, a single, calloused finger easing into you. You can't remember the last time someone rubbed that little bundle of nerves inside your pussy so well. It doesn't make sense how easily he finds it. Targeting it in such a way that your entire body shudders.

"You like my finger, darlin'?" Adding another finger to join the first, working you, "God, you're takin' them so well for me."

Hips writhing as they quicken inside you, thrusting in and out of your clenching cunt, and you've no escape from it. Not until he decides you're stretched enough to take him, working you up to three fingers. Abusing that spot over and over, thumb idly swirling your throbbing clit. It's too much; you can't, you can't—

"Wait!" You don't mean to cry out so loud; Rhett comes to a screeching halt, "'m gonna," you can't breathe, "was gonna..."

Those broad shoulders drop, relieved, "don't feel like cummin' on my fingers?"

Shaking your head, "I'd rather cum on your cock."

Dare you say it? His cheeks dust with red.

In the bedside drawer hides a small container of lubricant. Half-full, the label somewhat distorted from moisture; a part of you feels it's unnecessary. But then you feel his wet head drag between your folds, and you're reminded of how much of a stretch lies ahead.

One day, you'll have to test and see if you can cum just from his plush head rutting against your clit, can only imagine how it would look. But, it can wait on your shelf of dirty thoughts.

If you don't get him in you within the next minute, you're going to combust.

"You still sure?" Heavy cock nudging at your entrance, only slightly spreading you; his hesitation is both endearing and frustrating.

Wordless, you tighten your legs around his waist and push down. The initial stretch of it burns; even those fingers weren't enough. The pop of his head past your rim is so delicious that you feel no remorse.

Rhett's sharp inhale is so loud that it bounces off the walls, eyes screwed shut. High in his throat emanates a meek whimper. "Fuck." Leaning down, he braces himself on his forearms, pushing your noses together as he finally starts to sink into you, "you'll tell me if it hurts, yeah?"

"Uhuh," breathless, unable to hold a kiss for a second. Your hands slide to his back, finding purchase in his shoulder blades.

You need. You need something to hold onto. Because between your legs, his length splits you wide open, stretching you further and further. With every inch, your composure slips more and more; he's only halfway inside, and you already feel so fucking full.

Sweet kisses pepper to your jaw, soothing as he eases even further. Involuntarily, you clench around him, a muscle reflex that makes Rhett moan so prettily. The sound only serves to make you wetter. It's the last push you need before he finally slides home inside you, hips flush together, balls heavy against your ass.

"Fuck," whimpering above you, "fuck, fuck, baby."

Rhett's arms tremble on either side of your head, and it's not from bracing his weight. No, he's much too strong to be bothered by that.

...and just to boost your ego, "feel good?"

Even his bottom lip quivers with it, "mhm."

Experimentally, you move, grinding on his length. Stars sparkle beneath your eyelids, thick length pressing directly into your sweet spot with every spiral of your hips. Beneath your fingertips lies the raised scar occupying his right shoulder blade. He says he can't feel it, but he sure does react when you press on it, attention snapping to you. All ears for your next words.

"You can move."

Obedient as ever, Rhett draws back, only about halfway, then slides back, bottoming out in your dripping, stretched cunt once more. The drag of his cock in you is something out of your wildest dreams. So hopelessly split open that you can feel every fucking inch.

"Your pussy's so tight, baby," picking up a bit of speed now, each thrust punctuated by the wet meeting of skin on skin, "takin' every single inch of me so fucking well."

Every motion only makes your lips looser, whimpering high in your throat every time his cock massages the gooey spot inside your stretched walls. So effortless, knowing; you've never known that such a thing could feel so mind-blowingly right.

Like a mantra, your name falls from Rhett's lips; it's never sounded so pretty. Each word is punctuated by a thrust, your entire body jolting with it, cock filling you up until you can't possibly take any more. Biting into his lip is the only way he can stifle the sounds building upon his tongue.

"Stretchin' for me so well, darlin'," the squelch of your wetness is filthy, "god damn, your hot little cunt is so wet."

Those words only make you louder, wetter, your cries growing with his pace. That fat cock bullying its way into your quivering pussy. Giving you no choice but to whimper and take every fucking inch he chooses to give you. Ripping the air from your lungs with every motion, dragging so wondrously against the nerves in your walls that it makes you drool.

Rhett's lips find your neck, sucking something fierce into your sensitive neck; you don't want to know what kind of mark that'll leave.

"Rhett," your nails digging into his shoulders with a particularly hard thrust, "feels good, it feels—ah!"

You clench so hard around him that it forces both of you to come to a screeching halt, panting under the feeling of it. Clamping so tightly that you can feel him twitching inside. Only serves to light the match that you've been craving; heat blossoming between your legs, inside your ruined pussy.

So close.

So, so close.

But you don't want to cum like this.

All it takes is one hand on Rhett's sweaty chest for him to catch on. Doesn't quite know what you want, but he complies with your silent lead.

"Wanna ride you," whispering; his breath hitches.

With anyone else, you'd have to slide him out of you to change positions, but this cowboy is strong enough to roll you around with such ease. Jostling his length inside you, but far too big for him to accidentally slide out.

And here you thought Rhett above you was a sight. Him beneath you is a different beast entirely. Arching into your touch as you run your fingers up his neck, seizing him by the jaw. So pliant when he was just fucking you better than anyone else could.

"Ain't you a sight for sore eyes," he groans, lips parting to accept the thumb you hook into his mouth. That tongue of his swirls around it, wetting it until you're satisfied.

Tentatively, you lift your hips, rising until just his head is left, then, equally slow, slide back down. Rhett twitches upward, unable to keep still. That toned chest of his rising off the ground as your wet thumb toys with his nipple, back arching so perfectly that it belongs in a magazine. There's a delay in his sounds like his mind hasn't caught up to what you're doing to him.

"Sweetie, please," pleading around a shaky breath, "want—wanna cum."

The mere suggestion of that sounds like heaven.

Planting your palms on his broad chest, you rise once more; the pace you find is something bordering slow. Enough to savor the drag of his dick inside you, but never slow enough for your body to quit moving. Weak, Rhett reaches between your legs, massaging his wet thumb around your clit.

"Baby, baby," those eyes barely open, breath hitching, "feels good. Fuck, it feels good."

And you've hardly done anything.

"You're so sensitive," cooing as you feel his thighs tremble beneath you, "you gonna cum in me, sweet boy?"

He's barely able to formulate a nod, slack-jawed, panting hard, keening with every movement. Sounds so, so pretty that it makes you clench your legs around him, surprised to find that the tiny change makes his head strike against your sweet spot. Your head is beginning to spin, and that coil between your legs is growing hotter.

You're close.

"Cum in me, Cowboy," coaxing him on, body stuttering, "I know you've got it in you."

He twitches upward, meeting you halfway every time, your ruined pussy squelching with every thrust. The thumb on your clit grows frantic, working it over and over in tight little circles. You're gonna cum; you're gonna cum, you're—

With a weakened cry, you cum on his cock. Suddenly going still. Muscles spasm around Rhett's length so tightly that it's a wonder you don't hurt him. You can't breathe, your head floating off your shoulders and into the clouds. Involuntary, your eyes open just as Rhett's orgasm hits.

Those gorgeous eyes fucking cross.

Hot cum spurts into you in thick ropes. Painting you white and filling you so well that your body runs out of room for it, the excess leaking out around his cock. His barely audible whimpers are music to your exhausted ears, dancing around them like sugar plum fairies. Muscles twitching, trembling right in front of you.

It fades, and his back sinks into the mattress.

For a moment, you can only pant for your breath like a team of overworked dogs on a hot summer day.

"Still a fuckin' daydream on top of me, y'know?" Rhett barely even sounds like himself. Voice hoarse, wrecked by your ventures.

You really should slide off of him, but you don't have it in you, "I could say the same about you," kissing the tip of his nose, "I've never seen a man feel so good that he went cross-eyed before."

Weakly, he laughs, so breathy that he can hardly make a noise. Wandering hands slide up your sides, coaxing you to lay down against his big chest; even the sweat on his skin cannot ruin how wonderful it feels to rest your head here. Heart racing beneath your ear, still coming down from his high.

Oversensitivity is quick to take hold; Rhett squirms with every rhythmic pulse of your cunt around him, unsure what to do with such a painfully lovely sensation. You can hardly muster the strength to slide him out of you, cum already beginning to leak out of your used, spent cunt. A sensation that feels downright obscene; worse, he's stretched you so well that you can feel yourself gaping.

"Would you object to a bath?" He murmurs into your scalp, and you reckon he can feel you leaking too.

Your hum is enough for him to get moving, and you almost regret it; this house feels too cold without him there. It doesn't take him long to return, but those few minutes last for years.

Strong arms slide around you, one hitching under your knees, the other around your back, lifting you from the bed like nothing. You've yet to learn where the bubbles came from or how long the bottle has been hiding under the cabinet, but they smell like bubble gum. The kind whose flavor never lasts for more than a few seconds.

This bathtub isn't big enough for you to sit side by side, but you fit just fine lying against him, your ear coming to rest on that faded bull rider tattoo.

It's unclear how long you lie there, the warm water washing away the tension left in your bodies until you're left sleepy-eyed, unwilling to move. Rhett's playing with the bubbles, stacking them on top of your exposed skin to make vague 'bubblemen' as he's deemed them.

"They're like snowmen," he says, eyes unfocused, "but they're made of bubbles instead of snow."

Sleepiness ebbs at the corners of your psyche, pulling heavy on your eyelids, weighing your body down. Every brush of Rhett's fingers against your body, every puff of hot breath against your forehead, the soothing sound of the water, it's all making it harder to stay awake.

"You fallin' asleep on me?" Whispering, Rhett presses a kiss to your forehead. "Y'sure you don't wanna take a nap in bed?"

You do, but, "don't wanna move."

The nice thing about Rhett is that he has no issue carrying you around. He bundles you up in his soft, oversized clothes and carries you off to bed without complaint. In fact, he seems to enjoy doing it because he carries you every chance he gets. To the living room to watch a movie, to the kitchen island after the pizza delivery guy comes by; if you'll let him, he's got you.

"Up you go, little lady," he beams, scooping you off the couch, "we're off to our next adventure." Your next adventure is something completely uncharted, never done before by mankind.

Bedtime.

Part 2 ♡⊹˚₊ Part 4

[calliedion-dungeon]

𖤐Hot Cherry Bomb

Third part of Dark Lipstick

Cardinal Copia/ Reader Fem/V

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Once you, and everyone at the ministry, realized what you have become, some proposals and concerns come to light, but your secret relationship with Copia is being threatened by your condition, because it means not being with him or death.

Warnings: +18 MDNI, Smut, with a demon, Design inspired in Callie Maggotbone (Ugly Americans, S1 E5 "Treegasm")

Picture @DjevelensWolfe

Weeks after Copia’s accidental summoning, you both have been more open about your desires for each other, at least in his case, he started to make you small gifts, being blatantly attentive to you, his eyes always fixated in your figure when you’re near, excited like a puppy, he follows you everywhere, never asking for anything in return for his attentions, only waiting for your eyes to meet his and if you smile at him, specially at something he said, that’s enough for the enamored Cardinal to feel light-headed, he’s addicted to the sound of your laugh which rings in his mind and keeps looking for opportunities to keep you interested on him.

You both have talked many times that there will be nothing that you won’t allow, he’s happy to have you around and let it be known that he adores you. But in these weeks, with the changes that have occurred to your body, things have complicated for you, you don't know how this new phase works, you fear that if you let your desires out as you would like, he could get hurt, in which way? You had heard horrible stories about how demons, or half demon in your case, can be too much for a human, even killing them in the heat of passion, added to the heat that burns you from time to time, especially if you think about him too much, sometimes you even feel sick, you need him in front of you, you want to be in his mind, make him squirm under you, the heat crashes you again making your skin look deep pink wishing that his freckled skin rubs against you���

“Y/N? Are you listening to me?” Sister Imperator questions you, standing arm-crossed and raising an eyebrow. She knows you haven’t heard her in a while now. You look to the people around you at the table, these meetings have been arranged to discuss how are your advances in your new state, to gather information about how to deal with it in the safest way possible.

“I’m sorry, ma’am” you can only fidget with the hem of your dress, looking down “Could you repeat that, please?”

“Ironically, you just answered what I asked you, I was asking you if you had trouble concentrating because of your change” she’s way more patient than you give her credit for when you first met her.

When the change occurred in your body, you were not sure who to turn to exactly, you did know that in the ministry they would know what to do, but who? The ghouls were the ones who ratted you out before you could seek help on your own, the Cardinal didn't think your change meant much so he didn’t tell anyone, but apparently it did, and that's what's been scaring you about yourself, Sister Imperator was worried that you were having sex with everyone, since creatures like you are famous for being insatiable and many times when they do not get what they want they become violent, since then they have had interviews with you and some ghouls present, more than anything to know if what you say is true, because although they are at ease with you being unproblematic, they’re not reassured that you repress yourself is the way to go either.

The curious eyes of the Ghouls from different eras are on you, you know they are talking about you, one or the other raises their nose to smell something in you, you squeeze your thighs thinking the worst, they say things in each other's ears and smile showing their fangs, when It was discovered that you were the descendant of a high-ranking demon, they hovered around you like bears and you were covered in honey, you even hear them grunt in their chests, they’re curious what could be like to be with someone like you, it just baffles them a little more that you haven't been with any of them yet, for satiate your appetite even if it is. But you don’t have appetite for them, you’re not sure if anyone there knows that the one you crave for it’s only one man, you may be horny 25/8, but you don’t have the desire to fuck everyone, that’s different and you don’t dare to say that, because it’s none of their business.

“Why do you hold yourself back, sister?” you can't tell which girly-voiced ghoul is talking to you, so you answer without looking up at first, swallowing hard.

“I’m not a sister, and… I” you look around you “I’m not holding back; I try to satisfy myself…” but it’s not enough, you know that, you can masturbate more than 10-15 times a day, which you have done, and the only thing you achieve is that you can only think things a little better for a short time, because the desire returns and rises like the tide, especially at night, when you expect Copia to summon you again.

“You’re repressing yourself; we can see it because your transformation it’s not done” one of the ghouls remarks in a very calm tone, the corpulent ghoul that sits beside you, he was one of the few who looked less interested in flirting with you than the newer ones.

“It’s not?” your defeated words resonate in the room; you ask yourself what else need to be done?

“I just want to point out that, there’s steam coming out of you, are you hot?” a young-looking ghoul points above your head, you notice the steam coming from your head and pulse points.

“No, well, yes but I can’t feel it” as if it was a concern that you could burn it all, you know you can, but hasn’t happened yet “I just need to cool down or I’ll burn my clothes again” you grab a folder nearby to fan your face.

“Well, hello fellow fire element” the ghoul to the right of the first ghoul who speaks to you tells you in a flirtatious and unashamed tone. A couple share the laugh, you can’t find what’s funny about it.

“I believe that’s another thing, we… fear that suppressing who you are might lead to dire consequences” Sister finally breaks her silence, you’ve never seen her so quiet about a thing, it’s obvious the ghouls would know more about your kind, you fear maybe she even might think about binding you or worse… vanishment.

“Like?” fearful of asking, your voice gets lower, remembering the time you almost rip Copia’s tongue out with your teeth because you get too excited while kissing or the several times you burnt your clothes or his because you want to hold him so much, at least you didn’t seriously hurt him and you won’t wait for it to happen.

“We don’t know, but hell fire is not something to play with” like you needed more reasons to be scared of being near your dear Copia, your eyes can’t even water properly as your tears evaporate as soon as they touch your skin and your pitch black eyes don’t let be seen that you want to cry.

“Please, I need to be excused, can we talk another day?” Seeing you all so down, they leave you for the moment, you stay outside the office for a few seconds until all the ghouls come out after you, some say goodbye to you, but you don't listen to them.

Hell fire. Nobody ever told you that was a possibility, only the sex drive part, of course everybody remembers that, yes, your libido has been the first sign of your change, but it doesn’t make you mad, it’s only when you think of Copia when it sky rockets your desire, it’s not anybody, and your priority it’s his safety, maybe you can do stuff from a distance, unable to touch, that’s the saddest thought.

“You know” someone says behind you near your ear “You might be able to control it if you let go just one time” a short ghoul appears in front of you, his grin shows off his fangs, you recognize he’s the one that said he’s a fire ghoul, maybe he’s interested in burning all with you.

“And if you want to… you know ‘let go’ you can’t hurt us, so it’ll be okay” a very slanky ghoul says as he makes air quotes, their offer comes from their natural curiosity, not many high rank demons can be in men realm because of how dangerous and vicious they can get, so compared to them you’re practically harmless.

“Unlike if you try with a human, just a thought, take it into consideration, gorgeous, if you don’t want to burn anybody alive, of course” your face must have given your disdain away, they can sense that not even for morbidity does it attract your attention, you only politely smile and walk away annoyed.

You rather be chained up with crucifixes than even think to be with somebody else, you have to look for all the options, walking along a stone path to get away from everyone, thousands of possibilities go through your overwhelmed mind, you just want a little silence, you have in mind to enter the gardens and beyond, before you can disappear from everyone's sight, a beautiful voice calls you, the one you can't resist.

“Y/N! I’ve been looking for you…” you hug him tightly, cutting his words, nuzzling on his neck taking his scent in, not his cologne, your nose can surpass that in his skin, his nerves, his sweet blood running through his veins, you open you pitch black eyes noting what are you doing to stop yourself once more.

“I’ve missed you” you say in a tone sexier than you expected, his face completely flustered and out of words, you’re not sure what you did, and yet, you have him whimper close to you “These meetings are such a drag” you change the subject, Copia blinks awaken from your spell.

“That I know about” he smiles sweetly to you “You haven’t told them?” He extends his hand indicating that you walk together, you lead the way through the bushes and trees that surround you, already making you feel more relaxed.

“About what exactly?” you ask feeling his gaze upon you, you try not to look at him so you don't get distracted by your desires again, even avoiding taking his hand just in case the glove it’s not enough to protect him.

“The summoning and that I did it, and what we are” both of you have avoided adding those details to whoever knows about your condition, just because you fear they will take him away from you or have more people from the clergy watching over both of you constantly.

“I don’t know why should I” you try to discard the thought and by your mannerisms he does too.

“Have you discovered something new?” his sheepish smile raises your spirit for a second, just before you remember the outcome of the meeting, he awaits your answer patiently as you hesitate.

“A few things…” when you say it you speed up the step towards an abandoned chapel.

“Bad things?” the Cardinal asks you following you around the stone brick building reclaimed by the forest decades ago.

“Definitely not good” accepting out loud feels worse than you imagined "Apparently the reason I'm always steaming and burning things is because my element is fire and I can only control it if... I let myself go. But if that happens, I can hurt whoever is near me" you swallow hard, battling the knot in your throat.

“Oh… that’s is indeed not good” He takes you by the arm when he sees you so distraught, turns you so that you can see him face to face and looks for your gaze, lifting your chin with a gloved hand.

“Unless” your voice comes out with more grace and charm than you would like.

“Yes?” he doesn’t let go of your chin holding you softly.

“Unless it’s a creature who can endure, like… a ghoul or any other type of demon, so…” you divert your eyes down, his face changes, you look to him to find just the thing you feared the most, hurting him and not in the physical way.

“So…? Do you want to be with…?” he mumbles, his voice barely audible.

“No!” You meet his lost stare, at least in that you’re sure as the sun is round “Our options are reduced to do things from a distance, I think… Or…”

“Thanks Lucifer…” he smiles relieved, expecting a favorable answer from you.

“We should accept this is too risky for you and just end this as it is” you drop your thought unsure and unwittingly.

“No, cara, I’ve waited for you my whole life, I can’t…. please don’t ask me this” it’s unbearable to see him like that, you’re even almost completely turned off for once. He takes your hands into his, kissing them as he whimpers miserably.

“I can’t either…” with your eyes constantly evaporating your tears he can only gaze at your swollen nose and the sound of your sobs to notice that you’re also sad “but this, I know this isn’t how we expected things to be, but I would not forgive myself is I accidentally summon hell fire and…”

“Hell fire? Like the fire the ghouls make?” he jolts when he hears what you said, somehow that captured his attention, his sadness receding.

“Maybe, maybe something stronger, I don’t know much about these things” you try to understand his reaction because he holds you in his arms and he seems happier, brushing his fingers on your cheeks tenderly.

“I do know…” he chuckles before closing the gap between you two, even when his lips are not a strange sensation over yours, you’re surprised by him kissing you eagerly. Against your wishes, you try to push him away slowly.

“My love, please we shouldn’t… remember last time? I burnt your cassock” you remind him what happened the first time you both tried to be together, when you burned his black cassock by swirling too much on his chest for pulling it to take it off and your blouse ended up totally scorched.

“It’s the black one anyway, it’s not noticeable” he grazes his lips over yours when he couldn’t reach you, he held you tightly by the waist, it was difficult, the heat was raising up again.

“Copia, please…” you whine not letting him go.

“Am I bothering you?” his tone shows concern, for a second he fears he’s been too persistent.

“No, that’s the problem, I can’t refuse you, so please, don’t ask me anything” Your words partly do reflect what you say, because you have him very well gripped by the neck and you had not noticed how close you are to each other, feeling your hearts gallop next to each other, your agitated breaths mixing, his is so sweet that it drives you crazy to eat him whole.

“Let go… Y/N” you widen your eyes, suddenly scared, but you know you don’t want anything else.

“I can’t…” you whisper to his face as you lower your hands down to keep them flat on his chest.

“You’re scorching hot” He brushes his nose against yours smiling, bringing your foreheads together.

“Did I hurt you?” you exclaim pushing him back you he doesn’t let you.

“No, but look…” in his red cassock you can see your hands marked on the cloth, as if he had left the iron on for too long, the shiny hands on his chest make you jump slightly.

“Shit! I’m so sorry…” your apologies fall into deaf ears, he laughs charmingly, he kisses you on both cheeks.

“Don’t be, please” he says happier than you expect him to be, he lets go of you and begins to unbutton his cassock quickly, just then you notice he’s not wearing the biretta.

“Don’t take it off, Copia it’s your only protection” shocked by what he is doing, you put your hands to try to stop him, but you do not exert much force because in a short time he is left only in pants and a shirt that he wears underneath, your concern increases, or rather the tide of heat that is approaching when you see he begins to unbutton his shirt.

“Look at me” says the sweet cardinal patiently “Y/N, look at me” You look carefully at his open shirt, his exposed chest lightly covered with hair, a mark stands out, something that at first seemed like a group of moles under his collar bone, they form a series of spiral numbers, it's not a tattoo, it's the mark, the real one, when you look at it you run your fingers over it unable to believe it, you knew that he was special, the only one for you, but this goes beyond what you could ever have guessed.

“Is this?” you’re so pleasantly surprised, your worries melt down, at least most of them.

“Yes. You can’t hurt me, amore” he excitedly says “I was made for this, just like you”

Without waiting for a single second, you pounce on him without fear of hurting him with your sharp fangs on his neck, you greedily lick the vein in his neck up to his lobe, he gasps in your ear, while you feel his fingers digging into your thighs, teasing the thin fabric of your underwear making an effort to pull them down, he then smiles at you tenderly, lost looking at your face, brushing his finger on your lower lip, thrilled that he doesn’t have to imagine how it feels like to be with you anymore, while you palm his chest looking once or twice at the mark, you slowly try to lick his finger but you feel something different, a little scared, you touch your own tongue, which feels forked in two, you look up at the Cardinal who looks at you fascinated, it means it's working already.

He closes the space between the two of you to give you a rough kiss, his teeth collide with yours and your tongue finds the most hidden corners of his mouth, you sigh through your nose and hot steam comes out along with a moan that rumbles in your throat.

He parts from you to finish taking off his clothes, you only half lower the top of your dress and half raise your skirt and kick your panties away, then he takes you by the waist to place you against a stone brick wall behind you, takes your thighs and he lifts you up without saying a word, you just feel his sweet breath on you, he growls when he feels you open and wet for him. You grab him by the neck tightly and force your heels into his butt cheeks to make him slide inside you, as he does you both roll your eyes in anticipation.

“Sei più delizioso di quanto potessi immaginare” he moans with his eyes closed pinning you against the wall with his desperate thrusts.

“Copia… you feel so good, please…”

Something interrupts you again, you feel that something has fallen to the ground, he follows your gaze and feels something dangling between his legs, he tries to capture it with one hand, but it escapes him, he doesn’t let go of you to look for it, you feel a pressure in your lower back and make a little effort, that is then when a pink hairless tail lifts up to your shoulder, feeling your own skin brushing against itself, you smile mischievously wrapping the tail around his neck, naturally having control over it.

“Don’t stop” you command him, needy as he is, he thrusts into you mercilessly.

You knew that the months of waiting would help you not need a foreplay to start strong, along with your condition, nuzzling on your neck he gives all his energy to make everything that he had been saving for you come true, as your moans get louder so does your heat that begins to burn around both of your bodies, as he said, he’s unharmed, he sees you so wild growling thanks to the perfect rolling of his hips hitting the right spot, you were also starving for his body which makes  your moans become a screech.

The tension inside you builds up, losing yourself each second you can’t help but scratch his shoulders cutting his skin and lapping up the blood that your claws have drawn, he doesn’t stop thrusting, on the contrary he does so faster.

“Mia bella serpente, mia bella tentazione” his voice broken by his effort makes you tremble within the little that you can still move “Ti voglio così tanto”

“Copia, no puedo más, no me sueltes! Me quemo!” your desperate screams echo for miles around, lost in your own pleasure, you don't quite know how you can speak, while the pressure in your head finally escapes in the form of screams and fire that consumes everything around you, and as Copia said, he is intact.

Violent bluish flames envelop you both, while he also has an orgasm and screams along with you like a possessed man, you bite his shoulder a little hard, marking your teeth on his tender skin now full of bruises, blood and freckles, a delicious spectacle in your opinion, you didn't know you had that in you.

The tree that was erected above you, catches fire like your blood and your skin that are boiling, you don't know how many minutes pass until your flames calm down and the screams were silenced by kisses, he joins your foreheads together, but something hits him, the pressure on your head and the infernal fire have ended up exposing the horns that you should always have, your crescent-shaped horns ignited the fire that consumed the tree and marked your body shape into the wall, burning the leaves and the ivy that once was behind you could see it when he helped you down and you both saw how the dark marks on the wall had the shape of your torso and your buttocks, you both laughed a little at that, but not so much at the tree, you quickly put on your clothes to go to ask for help to put out the fire, while you run together he takes you by the hand and smiles at you.

“I hope at least it was worth of your liking, cara” he stops for a second to kiss your hand, you let him do, but immediately you resume your running.

“Did I liked it you ask?” you laugh “My dearest Copia, this is just the beginning…” you smile at him showing your forked tongue.