I know you do. Thank you for telling me, though now I'm worried that you might have gone ahead with it without letting me know. Do you actually want to do it or do you just want me to give you attention? Because you know you have that anyway, no matter what. You're the most important girl for me.
[ If he wanted to, he knows he could go and find her. He could search the house and track her down to where she's training in the gym or the ice rink or relaxing with her friends. He could pull her away with a father's propriety, get her to shove down her shorts or lift her skirt and open herself to him, sweat-damp or protesting the entire time until he slips his fingers into her along with the plug right there, where anyone might walk in --
He considers it, very thoroughly indeed, but in the end he decides to wait, hard and wanting and obsessed with his own desire. He hasn't felt like this for years; it makes him feel young and stupid. Very stupid, considering what they're doing, but he can't help himself. He wants her very badly. Pleasing Buffy at last, finding something he can do to make her want to be with him more than she wants to push him away -- it answers something in him that's been waiting for longer than he knows. He's not foolish enough to believe it's healing for either of them, but it's surely something good. And it can't go on forever. Just while they're at Saltburn, a brief indulgence, where they can find each other again and maybe this way he'll finally understand his brilliant and fierce daughter. So he'll wait a few hours for it to be perfect.
Everything they need is already in the bathroom by the time she returns. Giles insists that she has some privacy and gives her some time to clean up while he tries and fails to read a book in his room, stroking himself through his trousers to the sound of the shower running and what he imagines she's doing. And then he can't stand it any longer, stepping into the steamy room, breath catching at the sight of her.
And then it's surprisingly easy. Up against the counter, standing behind Buffy and opening her up with two fingers liberally coated with lube, pressing slippery circles over her skin, murmuring her name, calling her a good girl and kissing her damp hair, working into her body until she's panting and gasping and asking for more. Then he lines up the plug, heavy in his palm, and starts to ease it into her, making eye contact with her in the steam-smeared mirror. ]
Just like that, you see? [ He can't hide the raw note in his voice or the hard ridge of his cock pressing against her. ] How does that feel?
( buffy has to stop herself from running home immediately β daddys are important, but so are the olympics, and those are the two great loves of her life. there has to be a balance.
she still thinks about him the whole time she's practicing, imagining his thumbs digging into her bruises, prolonging an ache. when it hurts, she pushes herself harder, because she knows whatever giles intends for her will feel that much better in comparison to the pain, and at heart she's a masochist, who likes it unapologetically. when she manages to get herself back to their rooms, she thinks about him through her shower too, scrubbing off the sweat of all her effort, the perpetual slick between her legs. exercise has her muscles all sore and achey, and anticipation has them drawn up tense. she thinks for a flatlining second about eating an edible just to calm down, before deciding that'll get her into the wrong kind of trouble with her dad. getting off? much better, and not at all difficult when she's this wet thinking about giles thinking about her, sweaty forehead against the glass of the shower, grinding her clit against her fingers until she orgasms with a few pitiful rolls of her hips.
if she was anyone else, one orgasm might be enough to satiate her. unfortunately, she's greedy, starving buffy βΒ it barely takes the edge off. good timing for giles to come in, when she's standing naked in front of the mirror, rubbing on lotion her mother used to wear, smearing pink lip gloss from a squeeze tube onto her mouth. just getting clean, she offers, pressing her dirty fingertips into his mouth. in another second she's bent over the counter, slapping her hand against the mirror to wipe away the steam, watching giles watch her, grinning a little. it's so nice when you get the things you want.
the smile is gone pretty quickly. it's not difficult to tease buffy β a touch in and she's already whining for it, pouting, tilting her hips to entice him. giles doesn't rush anything, because he's evil βΒ acclimating her to the touch she instinctively flinches and hides away from, until she's pressing back into him, babbling, begging for more. if it hurts, it's only for a second, and only because it's strange βΒ giles soothes it out like a massage, opening up her body for him, cooing praise against her. she could come again βΒ like this, barely any effort, a knuckle brush against her clit. it never comes, so she just whines more and more desperately, slick enough to wet her inner thighs, dripping like a perfectly ripe fruit. )
Ah βΒ uh-huh. ( she loses whatever fight she was putting forward in holding herself up once the plug pushes into her, halving down to lay her chest on the counter, cheek on the steam warmed marble. she's up on her tiptoes, arching her back as best she can, presenting, enticing, doing whatever she can. ) Feels good, Daddy. ( occasionally she musters up some amount of shame, but she can't right now, while her brain is showering in horny bathwater. instinctively, she tucks both her hands behind her back, wrists crossed, pining herself down whether or not giles gets the picture. she bends up one leg to try and nudge him, but it ends up more flailing, a chemical reaction, like getting kissed for the first time. ) Wanna come. Are you gonna βΒ will you f-fuck me with it in? Please. Aren't I being so, so good?
( seemingly, she answers her own question by swaying her ass, nudging into his cock. no, definitely not. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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this is buffy fyi
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just making sure!!
then yes i like them. i like pink. why?
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okay, i want one. if you put it in me and tell me to wear it.
we should get matching ones and i'll do the same.
π
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yes boss π
are you gonna pick it out?
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Do you trust me to pick something nice?
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on the one hand, you have great taste in records.
on the other, sometimes you wear sweater vests. what's your taste in plugs like?
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is this a good time to tell you i haven't done that before or
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in theory
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[ Buffy. ]
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are you kidding? of course i want to. i wouldn't agree if i didn't want to.
i want to do everything with you, daddy.
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I'll bring you your present later.
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He considers it, very thoroughly indeed, but in the end he decides to wait, hard and wanting and obsessed with his own desire. He hasn't felt like this for years; it makes him feel young and stupid. Very stupid, considering what they're doing, but he can't help himself. He wants her very badly. Pleasing Buffy at last, finding something he can do to make her want to be with him more than she wants to push him away -- it answers something in him that's been waiting for longer than he knows. He's not foolish enough to believe it's healing for either of them, but it's surely something good. And it can't go on forever. Just while they're at Saltburn, a brief indulgence, where they can find each other again and maybe this way he'll finally understand his brilliant and fierce daughter. So he'll wait a few hours for it to be perfect.
Everything they need is already in the bathroom by the time she returns. Giles insists that she has some privacy and gives her some time to clean up while he tries and fails to read a book in his room, stroking himself through his trousers to the sound of the shower running and what he imagines she's doing. And then he can't stand it any longer, stepping into the steamy room, breath catching at the sight of her.
And then it's surprisingly easy. Up against the counter, standing behind Buffy and opening her up with two fingers liberally coated with lube, pressing slippery circles over her skin, murmuring her name, calling her a good girl and kissing her damp hair, working into her body until she's panting and gasping and asking for more. Then he lines up the plug, heavy in his palm, and starts to ease it into her, making eye contact with her in the steam-smeared mirror. ]
Just like that, you see? [ He can't hide the raw note in his voice or the hard ridge of his cock pressing against her. ] How does that feel?
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she still thinks about him the whole time she's practicing, imagining his thumbs digging into her bruises, prolonging an ache. when it hurts, she pushes herself harder, because she knows whatever giles intends for her will feel that much better in comparison to the pain, and at heart she's a masochist, who likes it unapologetically. when she manages to get herself back to their rooms, she thinks about him through her shower too, scrubbing off the sweat of all her effort, the perpetual slick between her legs. exercise has her muscles all sore and achey, and anticipation has them drawn up tense. she thinks for a flatlining second about eating an edible just to calm down, before deciding that'll get her into the wrong kind of trouble with her dad. getting off? much better, and not at all difficult when she's this wet thinking about giles thinking about her, sweaty forehead against the glass of the shower, grinding her clit against her fingers until she orgasms with a few pitiful rolls of her hips.
if she was anyone else, one orgasm might be enough to satiate her. unfortunately, she's greedy, starving buffy βΒ it barely takes the edge off. good timing for giles to come in, when she's standing naked in front of the mirror, rubbing on lotion her mother used to wear, smearing pink lip gloss from a squeeze tube onto her mouth. just getting clean, she offers, pressing her dirty fingertips into his mouth. in another second she's bent over the counter, slapping her hand against the mirror to wipe away the steam, watching giles watch her, grinning a little. it's so nice when you get the things you want.
the smile is gone pretty quickly. it's not difficult to tease buffy β a touch in and she's already whining for it, pouting, tilting her hips to entice him. giles doesn't rush anything, because he's evil βΒ acclimating her to the touch she instinctively flinches and hides away from, until she's pressing back into him, babbling, begging for more. if it hurts, it's only for a second, and only because it's strange βΒ giles soothes it out like a massage, opening up her body for him, cooing praise against her. she could come again βΒ like this, barely any effort, a knuckle brush against her clit. it never comes, so she just whines more and more desperately, slick enough to wet her inner thighs, dripping like a perfectly ripe fruit. )
Ah βΒ uh-huh. ( she loses whatever fight she was putting forward in holding herself up once the plug pushes into her, halving down to lay her chest on the counter, cheek on the steam warmed marble. she's up on her tiptoes, arching her back as best she can, presenting, enticing, doing whatever she can. ) Feels good, Daddy. ( occasionally she musters up some amount of shame, but she can't right now, while her brain is showering in horny bathwater. instinctively, she tucks both her hands behind her back, wrists crossed, pining herself down whether or not giles gets the picture. she bends up one leg to try and nudge him, but it ends up more flailing, a chemical reaction, like getting kissed for the first time. ) Wanna come. Are you gonna βΒ will you f-fuck me with it in? Please. Aren't I being so, so good?
( seemingly, she answers her own question by swaying her ass, nudging into his cock. no, definitely not. )
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