saestarrr!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - MUST BE 18+ TO READ

AU where reader inherits a farm with a farm hand

contains: mutual pining, sub Jean, Jean whipering, fingering (fem receiving), grinding, hand jobs, fem reader

word count ~3k

It has been three months since your grandmother passed and two months since her funeral. And for the past four weeks, you have been preparing to move into the small cottage she left you that sits on 22 acres of land with four horses and two beautiful ponds. When you learned she gave you her land, you were surprised to say the least, but when your mother informed you it came with her ranch hand, you were intrigued.

You had spent time nearly every summer visiting your grandmother and going to her land, but hadn't been there in years. From the pictures your mom gave you, the cottage was in good shape, and there was a relatively new addition on the back side that served as the ranch hand's accommodations. You hadn't heard much about him, but you knew he was the son of the carpenter whom you used to see working on things around the ranch. Other than that, he was quite a mysterious man.

As you drove along the quiet roads up towards the land, with your small red pick-up truck stuffed with your belongings, you rolled the windows down and turned your music up. The summer breeze felt nice against your face and blew your hair back. You had been given a lot of inheritance money along with the property, and decided to take a year off from school and go live on the ranch to reconnect with yourself.

As you neared the familiar driveway with the blue gate, you sighed at the fond memories it brought back to you. Pulling up to the keypad, you punched in the code and watched the gate swing open. You continued up the path, and soon the old cottage came into view; the sight really took you back. You stopped in the gravel in front of the house and turned off the engine.

You noticed the dinged-up Chevy parked up near the stables as you hopped out of your truck. You walked up to the front door and slid the key into the knob. You swung the door open and stepped in. It still smelled like you remembered. You started wandering around the house as more and more memories began coming to you. A melancholy smile crossed your lips. You were looking at the pictures on the fireplace mantle when you heard a footstep on the porch accompanied by a creak in the boards.

You turned and saw him standing in the doorway. He was tall and broad, clearly toned from all the work he did on the land. He had a light coat of dirt on his arms and shirt, and he wore weathered jeans and muddy work boots. His towering frame became more impressive as you stepped closer to the door and could see more of his features. He had soft-looking eyes and a captivating face.

"Hi, I'm Jean. And you must be the granddaughter." A small smile played across his lips as he looked down at you from the threshold. His voice was calm and rough in a way that made you instantly want him to speak again.

"Yeah, I am. And uh, you're the ranch hand, right?" You felt dumb as you spoke, but he gave you such a kind look that you forgot your embarrassment.

He nodded, glanced back at your truck, and asked, "Do you need help with your stuff?"

You felt a little flutter in your stomach as he stepped back and gestured for you to lead the way. As you passed by him, you could smell his woody musk with a hint of spearmint. You liked the way you could sense his presence behind you, following you to the bed of your truck. He stood behind your right shoulder and watched as you unlocked the hatch.

You shifted towards him as you lowered the gate, and he got a whiff of your sweet-smelling perfume and hair. As he stood there for those few seconds it took to reveal your moving boxes, he thought that your hair looked soft and, strangely, he had an urge to touch it. He shook his head and returned his attention to the various boxes.

He hadn't had much experience with girls, given that he had spent most of his life working on projects with his dad or helping around his ranch and your grandmothers'. And when he first saw your car pull into the driveway, your windswept hair and stunning face seemed to halt his body. He finished what he was doing and went down to meet you; he had to. And now, being so close to you, he was feeling a little uneasy.

He was fine being alone; in fact, he preferred it, so the thought of the two of you now living alone on the ranch together brought an awkward thought to his mind. You turned to look up at him and noticed he looked slightly flushed. But as his eyes met yours, he seemed to return to his usual color. You quickly looked away, uncomfortable with the eye contact.

"These boxes are heavier, so could you take them?" You raised your arm to point out which ones and brushed his arm lightly.

He inhaled sharply but barely noticeable. You noticed, though. Your brow furrowed then softened, and you looked up at him as he reached for the closest box. He looked stiff. You watched as his muscular back retreated towards the house.

After all your boxes were in the house, it had grown relatively dark outside. It occurred to you as Jean set down the last box that you didn't have any food for dinner. He walked over to where you stood in the empty kitchen, and you turned toward him as he approached. He looked around the kitchen, and his brow raised.

"You don't have any groceries, do you?" He asked lightly. You frowned.

"No... but I'll just drive down to the store really quick."

He glanced at the clock on the wall, then returned his gaze to you. "Don't think that's an option. It closes in ten."

"Oh-" You purssed your lips thoughtfully.

"Why don't I make you something? I have plenty of food." He smiled softly.

You felt your cheeks grow hot at the attention. "Oh, thanks, that would be great." You avoided his eyes and stared into his chest as you said it.

He led you around the house to his flat and opened the door. He followed you inside and closed the door. It was a simple place with a small bedroom in one corner, visible through the open doorway. A small kitchen with two chairs butting up against the wrap-around counter, a cozy-looking couch, and a few shelves of books along the walls.

The bathroom was connected to the bedroom, in which you could spot a towel hanging on the shower glass. He gestured towards one of the chairs at the counter and opened the fridge. You watched him as he took out the ingredients and began to cook a beautiful meal. It smelled delicious, and your mouth was watering just looking at it. He noticed how attentive you were and saw the way your mouth tilted to one side as you watched him prepare the food.

He smiled to himself as he turned to grab you a glass of water. As he handed it to you, your fingers brushed his, and you felt him tense. You looked up at him, but he had already returned to cooking.

After both of you had finished the meal, he stood and reached over your shoulder to grab your plate. You could feel his warmth behind you and felt safe in his presence. As you stood, he turned and met your eyes,

"How was it?"

You could sense he was nervous as he said it, and you smiled reassuringly.

"It was great. Thank you."

The tips of his ears seemed to redden, and he returned the smile.

"Do you need anything else?" He asked softly, eyes gentle.

His look and tone made you feel warm inside as you tried to keep the feelings welling within you suppressed.

"Oh, uh, I don't think so. Thanks again for your help." He nodded.

"No worries, I'm here to help you." You noted the statement's genuineness as you turned to go. He followed behind you, led you back around to the house, and opened the door for you. Your hair brushed close to him, and he noted the scent. He lingered in the doorway, feeling awkward as he watched you stop and look back at him, smirking. You paused and waved your hand in his direction as you swept away into your new room.

He stared after you for a second, then closed the door and walked back around to his place. Later, as he lay in his bed, he thought about you.

–

You woke the next day with a funny feeling of anticipation in your heart. You turned in your bed, facing the window, and you saw Jean in the distance riding one of the stunning Icelandic horses your grandmother once rode herself.

You got up and came to the window, as if in a trance, and stared at him. He and the horse looked like one natural being the way they galloped through the field. Jean’s shirt was pressed against his chest, and it was possible to make out some of his bare skin as the wind brought his shirt slightly up.

As he got closer to the house and the stables, he noticed you standing in your room watching him.

He smiled to himself as he made out your figure and pretended not to have seen you. He decided to give you a show if you were so intent on watching him.

He stopped the horse a little farther than usual to give you a better view as he lifted his shirt over his head, revealing his glistening chest and back.

You gasped behind the window, still entranced. You felt something inside you stir as your lower body grew hot.

As he moved from view, you entered your kitchen, sat on the couch, and faced the front so you could still catch a glimpse through the windows. Jean entered the stables and smiled to himself, knowing you must have seen him. He wiped his brow and began some chores.

You returned to your room to shower, leaving your curtains open. When you were ready, you made your way to your truck just as Jean was walking towards his flat to grab a drink.

You had just closed the car door as he approached, looking rugged and sweaty. You rolled the window down, and he stopped next to it.

"So you headed to the store?" He ran a hand through his damp hair.

You paused, distracted by his shirtlessness. You attempted to play it off as not blatant staring, but he noticed. He smirked. You returned your gaze to his eyes and blushed slightly, embarrassed from being caught in the act.

"Oh, yeah, I am. Do you need anything?" You averted your eyes from his shiny form to stare at your hands on the steering wheel, face still slightly red.

"No, I'm fine. Be safe, alright?" This threw you off guard a little. But you recovered.

"Y-yeah, okay, I will. Bye."

"See ya." He smiled easily and watched as you pulled out of the driveway.

As he walked around to his flat, something caught his attention through your bedroom window. On your bed, with the white comforter, lay a pair of your pink panties.

From before your shower.

He blushed when he realized what he was looking at and tried to pry his focus from them, but he couldn't help but notice the damp spot that had so recently touched your warmth. He felt his pants tighten slightly, and he took it as a sign to respect your privacy more readily from now on. When he walked into his flat, he felt like a dirty pervert and went into the bathroom and splashed water onto his face.

–

For the next few days, you spent your time unpacking the boxes from the move and didn't speak much to Jean. But that doesn't mean he wasn't on your mind. He was.

Big time.

You watched him whenever you saw him out in the sun working, and wished you could go over to him and touch his muscular frame. Make him tense up and gasp when you touch him. But you didn't make a move. Just watched him from afar, observing the way he moved and how he carried himself.

Sometimes he would glance towards the house in hopes of spotting you somewhere, and when he did see you, you always seemed to have been looking at him first. It made him feel a little on edge, but in a way that made his heart race whenever he caught your gaze. It definitely made his work more exciting.

–

Every night, he would stare at the ceiling, thinking about how close you were, just a wall away... but much farther in terms of actual closeness. It drove him crazy; he couldn't shake you from his mind. This had never happened to him before, and he didn't know what to do with himself. So he did nothing. Which in turn drove you crazy, because you could feel it in the air, the way he looked for you and how he acted when you were close. You often thought about the way you had frozen when you touched him the first day you came. It felt like he must be interested in you (and of course, he was).

–

The tension seemed to build steadily, day by day, growing to what felt like an unbearable silence that consumed you both. Jean knew he should address it, but didn't know how to approach the subject, and hadn't been in a relationship before or even had sex. But the situation had become too much for him. You captivated his mind, and he wanted nothing more than to have you be his. And you felt the same, and being more experienced, you noted his behavior and drew a similar conclusion about the reason behind his apprehension. You thought about him constantly; you wanted him so badly it hurt.

–

So for weeks, the situation was at a standstill until one cold night when Jean’s heater broke, and he decided to come to you for help. He knocked on your door just as you were settling into bed. You stood, confused for a moment, then the fluttering in your stomach began as you realized it could only be him. You came to the front door and opened it to see Jean’s towering form standing before you in the cold, shivering slightly, lips bluish. He looked so enticing that you felt a pang in your heart. You opened the door wider and beckoned him in.

"What's wrong?" You felt oddly maternal for him at that moment as your brows creased.

"My heater broke, and it got really cold in my place. Is it possible for me to sleep here tonight?"

His nose had become pink from the temperature change. Your heart started racing. You had wanted nothing more for weeks.

"Of course, Jean." You said, looking up at him warmly.

The sound of his name coming from you stopped him. He looked down at you and met your eyes. His face said it all. He looked pained and full of want. You were surprised by this. But it drew you in. You took a step closer and looked at his arms, full of goosebumps from the cold. You reached out and brushed one arm with your warm hand.

"You seem very cold." You said softly, looking concerned.

He froze at your touch; you heard his sharp inhale. He had an almost frightened expression on his face when you looked up. But he wasn't looking at you; his gaze lay straight ahead, over your head, and happened to land on your bed, visible from his position facing inside the house.

You followed his gaze, then turned back to look at him. You were still close enough for him to feel your warmth close to his chest, and your hand was still against his arm.

He forced himself to look down at you with his puppy-dog eyes filled with desire. You shifted closer, then placed your other hand on his arm and began rubbing up and down.

His goosebumps seemed to be exaggerated by your touch. As you raised your head to look at him, for a fleeting moment, he had bitten his bottom lip and closed his eyes. When he opened his eyes and gazed down at you, it seemed to stop time.

You both just stood there, caught in the emotionally charged moment. Waiting for the other to make a move. Your hands were the ones to eventually break the stillness.

You raised them to his face and cupped it, warming his chilly face.

When you started brushing your thumbs across his cheeks, his eyes fluttered closed, his brows furrowed, and he let out a soft sigh. Your touch seemed to release some of the pain from his expression. And his reaction set off a longing in your heart.

He began melting into your touch and leaned down and rested his forehead against yours. You lifted your head and brought his face closer to yours, and brushed your lips against his. He shuttered.

You paused, then went in for a real kiss.

Your soft, warm lips against his cold ones felt electric.

You took his hand with one of yours and placed it against your waist. He hesitated, then let his fingers relax against the thin fabric of your pajamas. Your mouth against his muffled the low groan he then let out.

You felt him gently squeeze your waist, and you felt the growing heat against your panties. You began moving him toward your bed, and he followed your lead, still holding you close and keeping the kiss going.

He let out a soft whimper as you lightly pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him. You began unbuttoning his shirt as you sucked on his neck.

He shivered when you started kissing down his bare chest. Tensing his muscles as your gentle kisses brushed his abs. He gasped quietly as you lifted your shirt off over your head, revealing your breasts.

Your nipples hardened at the sudden cool air to which they were introduced. Jean stared at your beautiful form over him, his breath quick and uncertain.

He watched as you slipped off your shorts, showing him the same pink panties he had seen on your bed weeks before. You descended over him and kissed his parted lips.

You ran your fingers through his hair, at which his breath hitched. You began grinding on his abs, and he could feel the wetness that had soaked through the thin pink fabric. His chest was rising and falling quickly now, sloppily kissing you, as you rubbed your needy clit over his torso.

His hands found your waist, and you felt him push you down onto where he was rock hard. You looked down and held onto his waist as you ground down on his clothed cock.

A wet spot appeared after a few seconds, and you lifted your hips and repositioned yourself and began undoing his pants. His boxers were straining against his erection, and you brushed your hand over it, and he let out a whimper.

You grinned and pulled his boxers down to reveal his needy dick. You wrapped your hand around the base and began stroking it slowly. He groaned and turned his head against the pillow. You lowered your head and licked the precum leaking from his pink tip.

His hips jerked up in response.

You paused, with one hand still stroking his cock, reached for his hand with your free one and brought it up to your clothed entrance.

He looked up at you, then down at your panties. He hesitated, then brought his other hand up, took hold of the top of your panties and ripped them off you.

You gasped at this, which turned into a moan when he inserted two large fingers into you.

You jerked, then clenched hard on his fingers, making him groan.

He pumped his strong digits into your cunt, making you squirm. You moaned his name, and he thrust into your palm.

You felt a rush of pleasure as you came all over his hand. He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean as you lifted yourself over him and positioned your entrance above his cock.

As you brushed your clit over his pulsing tip, he whimpered your name as his face turned to the side on the pillow. You then sank onto his girthy length, letting out a loud moan.

You began clenching hard, Jean's hand shot to your waist as you began to ride him. He groaned as you ground down, slowly at first, giving little moans at each back-and-forth motion.

You quickened your pace and began bouncing up and down, moaning louder as you came closer and closer to your climax. He was now thrusting up into you and groaning as you clenched on his throbbing dick.

He went rigid and let out a deep moan, and you felt his hot spurts of cum filling your insides as you kept bouncing.

Your movements became desperate and jerky as you neared your finish, and letting out a lewd moan you coated his dick in your cum.

You leaned forward, exhausted, and lay on his chest as he stared in amazement at your naked body, stunned at what had just happened.

Then he leaned down and kissed your head before wrapping his now warm arms around your body.

THE ONLY THING I CAN DO NOW IS HATE WATCH MESSI

IF ARGENTINA WINS THE WORLD CUP ONE MORE TIME

THIS PLATFORM WILL FACE MY WRATH

MBAPPE YOU BETTER NOT DISAPPOINT ME

I HATE MESSI

I BLAME MESSI FOR THIS

I PRAY ON LIONEL MESSI'S DOWNFALL

IT'S HIS FAULT JUDE BELLINGHAM CAN'T PLAY FOR NORWAY

MESSI I HATE YOU

FUCK THIS WORLD CUP

FUCK THE FIFA PRESIDENT

AND MOST IMPORTANTLY FUCK LIONEL FUCKING MESSI

I HOPE YOU LOSE YOU PRIVILEGED PRINCESS

IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN HAALAND, HAALAND SHOULD HAVE TAKEN YOU OUT

I'm leaving this to Bellingham and mbappe

j. loki x fem! reader

╰┈➤ you're upset with him, and naturally, he makes it up to you. whether it's for your pleasure or his.

୨ৎcw: nsfw, oral receiving f, face sitting, cunnilingus, praising, masturbation

a/n: well...the loki agenda got me the more i kept re-reading the fuck ass manga

otoya eita x fem reader cw: mentions of sex, suggestiveness, etc. heavily based off of sally rooney's normal people omg they make me sick... 😕

It'd been a year since you'd last seen him.

A year since you'd left your hometown for university and never looked back.

A year since you'd last seen his scornful face as you snuck into his house at night for the final time, and not even saying a word to him at graduation the next day.

Because it was wrong. Because you were the girl at school who nobody even acknowledged; the girl nobody even cared about enough to make fun of.

That was why the two of you decided to keep it a secret. So you could love and fuck from a distance while keeping to your own agendas - him, maintaining the role of campus playboy, which meant playing around with other girls like he always did, and you, keeping it up as the nobody, so you wouldn't draw any extra attention to yourself. Either way, the main concern for secrecy was to avoid scrutiny from the insane trashpile of popular people Otoya liked to call his friend group. Which, to be fair, was something you'd have liked to avoid.

By the end of high school, the two of you had inevitably drifted apart. Otoya was off playing soccer, or partying with his thousandth "socially acceptable" girlfriend he'd had in the span of your relationship, and you were busy studying for your future. Which you'd always been so serious about - and he never understood why.

Eventually, you got into different universities. He stayed local, close to home. You went far. Far away, into the heart of Tokyo, where you could become someone different; someone who wasn't afraid to be seen. Someone who wasn't afraid to let go and gain independence, nor command their own respect. You'd grown from him. You didn't need him anymore.

Which was what made the sight of him at the local convenience store so devastating. You'd just come home for summer vacation. You didn't want to start this again - no, you'd been avoiding this very day since you decided you weren't going to let others dictate your decisions and twist your idea of love. The moment he caught sight of you, you knew you'd have to stay strong.

He'd grown taller. Shoulders broader, finally filling out his plain white tee like he'd always wanted since you were first years. University must've matured him.

"Hi," he said, sauntering up to you. "It's been a while."

You smiled politely. "Yeah. Sure has."

A group of schoolgirls passed by, giggling at the "handsome university boy" currently beside you. Otoya waved. You rolled your eyes.

He laughed. "Last time I saw you, you were in one of those uniforms."

"We... I... both..." you stuttered, tripping over your words as you carefully thought of something to say to destroy him. "Yeah, that's funny that you say that. Uh, how's uni up here?"

"Pretty boring," he muttered indifferently. "Pretty much everyone I... we know went to the uni up here. It's basically high school all over again. Just with wilder parties."

You shrugged. There was your opening. "Well, I never went to parties, so I wouldn't know."

"Oh. Right."

The two of you sat in silence, pretending you were busy browsing items. Otoya knew how you felt about him. He knew the hurt he'd caused you, the pressure he'd placed on your consciousness to not tell anyone, not stand out, and not do anything without permission, as one wrong move from you could've ruined his reputation. He knew he'd treated you badly. Would his pride have allowed him to do anything about it, though? Absolutely not.

You stared down at the refrigerated drinks. That's right. You used to come here often with him in the dead of night, where there was no chance that anyone could've seen you. He'd buy you a cold drink with electrolytes to cool you down after he fucked you. He'd throw in a bag of chips if the words "I love you" accidentally slipped from his lips when he came. How kind.

You were about to comment on the memory when you noticed how tense Otoya's jaw seemed.

He cleared his throat. "I've been meaning to say... I feel, uh, bad. For the way we left things."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "It's..." you began. "I mean, it's not like it was ever really a thing, was it?" You laughed nervously.

"Wasn't it? A thing?" he said quietly. "I mean, do any of your friends know about what happened in school?"

"I thought you knew me better than that, Otoya. I didn't have any friends," you laughed.

"Well, would it be embarrassing anyway?" Otoya's brows furrowed. "If they- if people, had found out?"

You thought about it for a beat, then nodded. "I guess, in a way, yeah."

"Why?"

"Because it was humiliating. I guess, the fact that I put up with it. With you," you answered truthfully.

Otoya clicked his tongue at that. Rocked back and forth on the balls of his heels, hands shoved into his pockets awkwardly.

"You know, apparently people at our school already knew that we were, like, seeing each other."

"I didn't tell anybody," you reassured him. "I swear."

He shook his head. "I know you didn't. I just meant, like, even if you had, it wouldn't have mattered."

"Well, what did they say? Were they terrible about it?" you questioned, chest a little tighter than usual.

Otoya chuckled to himself lightly. "Nah. Karasu told me a while back. Everyone knew, and no one gave a fuck. Like, at all."

Your shoulders slumped. So there was never a point to this. To sneaking around. To only holding hands when fucking. "So what was this all for, really?"

He thought to himself for the longest you'd ever seen him, eyes focused on the ground like he'd ashamed himself. Whether it was for playing you or being with you, you weren't sure. "Not sure," he concluded. His half-lidded eyes ran across the condom section. "We used to come here all the time, didn't we?"

You smiled weakly at the useless nostalgia. "Yeah. You used to buy me drinks and snacks here."

"I thought this was just the condom place," he said stiffly.

"Oh. Maybe you're right." Memory ruined.

Otoya paused. "Well, would you want to do it again?"

"Do what?" you asked meekly.

"You know... do you want to come over? I've got my own apartment now."

You wanted to say no. That you weren't ever going to take him in again. That you'd moved on from this, and that you were a thriving university student who didn't need someone who was going to stay in the same place their entire life.

But you couldn't muster up the courage.

So you said yes.

"We'd better get going, then," he said. "It's getting dark.

You followed him back to his apartment a few blocks away, and soon realized that you'd never felt the sun on your fingers laced against his. You'd always done this at night. In secret.

It all felt so familiar. The brief kissing, the demanding tug of his fist on your clothes as he signaled for you to take them off. His apartment was small, but nice. You had to find your way to his bedroom. That, you weren't used to, because usually the way these things worked was by him climbing up to your window.

He was warm. Big, but almost like a missing piece of you. He felt the same as ever. More experienced, though. University was probably to blame for that.

He didn't cup his hand over your mouth out of fear like he used to. Instead, he slotted his fingers between your lips and told you to suck, told you to be louder, told you to be everything you weren't allowed to be when you were smaller and immature. It wasn't secret. But it felt shameful anyway, like you'd slept with the enemy. Because technically, you had.

When you came together, he didn't say "I love you". He kissed you instead. It didn't feel less than, though - you'd learned over the years that actions meant far more than words.

Afterwards, the two of you reminisced about old memories together for the rest of the night. You rested your head against his chest, remembering how weak you really were, and wondering if this could be something real this time. Something outward. Something unapologetic.

"Want to go to the convenience store again?" you asked against his chest. "I'm kind of tuckered out."

"Nah. I've got beer in the fridge if you want any," Otoya muttered. You frowned. What did you expect?

After all, he'd grown from that.

Chat should I put all the new gen elevens on one island and see who ends up with who