Tumgik
strawberry-whorecake · 3 months
Text
Quite the Little Rockstar | A.S.
Tumblr media
pairing: Adam Stanheight x fem!reader
summary: Adam’s feelings for his roommate are strictly platonic, right? At least he keeps telling himself that, until he finds you getting ready for a performance with your band, and you offer do to his eyeliner.
word count: 2.8k
warnings: none, just pure fluff <3
A/N: I’ve been in my Leigh Whannell era for months and the other day when I was doing my eyeliner I couldn’t stop imagining sitting on Adam’s lap and doing his eyeliner aaaaaaa
Having a roommate was weird. What was weirder was having a female roommate. But she’d answered his ad and she paid her half of the rent on time, so who could complain? Especially not when said female roommate was as good looking as you were.
The sound of rock music blaring over the stereo interrupted Adam’s darkroom session. He’d been so lost in developing and perfecting his photographs, he’d barely noticed just how much time passed. 
Still… the interruption was not what he was hoping for. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger as he shut his eyes tight. After a moment of realigning himself to reality, he stepped out of the darkroom, following the sound of the music, which only grew louder the closer he got to the bathroom.
He hesitated for a long moment, the door was slightly ajar, but was it weird to enter the bathroom while his roommate was in there doing god knows what? He didn’t want to be a perv. Was it even pervy in the first place if the door wasn't shut? 
About to give up as a whole, he stopped once more to the sound of you singing along to the music, and it pulled a small smirk to his lips. He swallowed down his anxieties and knocked first–like a gentleman– before pushing the door open anyways. 
“What the hell’s going on in here?” he asked a bit playfully, looking around at the state of the bathroom. 
The edge of the sink was littered with products, some of which had lost their balance and fallen to the floor. You looked nice, which confused him for a brief moment. Nice, but in a bad-ass, edgy kind of way. His gaze flitted over your outfit, and he couldn’t help but mentally admire your figure.
“I’m getting ready for the concert.” you said simply, and he furrowed his brows slightly. Concert? What concert? Then it hit him.
“Oh shit… the Wrath of the Gods concert is tonight?! Fuck! I forgot all about it… Scott’s gonna crucify me.” He groaned before running his hand through his hair. He huffed as he caught your reflection in the mirror.
From what he could see it looked like you were about to stab yourself in the eye with a pencil, and his eyes practically bugged out of his skull. He watched with incredulous curiosity as you brought the pencil not into your eye like he’d expected, but around it. The pencil left messy black smudges around your eyes. 
“What is that…?” he asked, probably sounding like an idiot. 
“Eyeliner?” you replied with a little huff of a laugh. Yep. He was an idiot, and your words proved that to him..
“Oh, yeah… I knew that.” he bullshitted. He’d seen that particular makeup look on girls before, but the only thing he’d ever known in terms of makeup was lipstick and eyeshadow. Oh, and that black gunk you’d put on your eyelashes that made them look long and dark. Mascara? 
He watched the way you applied the makeup around your eyes, only to then rub the tips of your fingers over your eyes, making the black pencil even messier… though, it was oddly attractive. It suited you well. 
“What?” you asked, peering at him through the mirror’s reflection. His expression turned sheepish, not realizing he’d practically been ogling at you until you’d called him out on it. 
“Oh, just uh… that makes you look cool, I guess.” In typical Adam fashion, he downplayed his compliment. He had a hard time being genuine around you, he didn’t want you to think he was a pussy or something by calling you pretty… or gorgeous… or just plain outright goddamn sexy. He did think all those things about you, but would you like him to call you those things? Or would you just think he was weird if he did? 
“Thanks.” followed by a little laugh pulled him from his thoughts. You liked his compliment? His gaze softened a little as he watched you reapply only to smudge the makeup around your eyes more. 
“Does that like… hurt?” he asked. It looked painful… a pencil that close to your eye? He shivered as he imagined that feeling. 
Your laughter once again pulled him out of his thoughts and he regained his focus on you as you turned around to face him, leaning back against the sink with your arms crossed over your chest. “You.. wanna try it?” you asked. 
He was a bit hesitant, he still partially believed it would hurt. Didn't girls always talk about how beauty was pain? But also… he was a guy. Wouldn’t makeup make him like, less masculine?
 “I don’t know…” he mumbled. “You’re gonna put makeup on me?” He asked, narrowing his eyes a bit, not at you, though. At that pointy pencil between your fingers.
You rolled your eyes despite the smile on your lips, which he always thought was an attractive quirk of yours, and the gesture made him smirk a bit in return. “Adam… every rockstar wears eyeliner.” you explained with that same smile he thought was really enticing. 
“Every rockstar?” he said a bit jeeringly. 
“Only the best… Billy Joe Armstrong, Bowie, Ozzy Osbourne, Alice Cooper…” Your smile widened a bit as you continued on, and Adam couldn’t help but roll his eyes, though this time a small smile pulled on his lips too.
“Whatever.” he said, though that was the closest thing you’d get to a yes from him.
“C’mere…” 
His gaze drifted from your eyes to your arm outstretching, finally to your hand as you held it out to him. He rolled his eyes in an attempt to keep up his arrogant nonchalance, though he silently begged that his cheeks hadn’t blushed. Especially when your fingers entangled with his. 
He let you guide him to sit on the lid of the toilet seat, and watched with shaky breaths as you stood in front of him… between his legs. Only to be close to him, of course… right? 
When you brought the pencil up to his eye he immediately flinched away, listening to your little scoff at his cowardice. “Shut up.” he bit back.
“Adam, I swear it doesn’t hurt. Don’t you trust me?” 
Goddamnit, how the hell was he supposed to say no to that sweet tone in your voice!?
“If you stab me in the eye, you’re paying the full rent.” he threatened, narrowing his eyes slightly as his gaze darted between that pencil and your eyes. 
“I won’t stab you in the eye if you don’t move.” Your tone held a sense of focus as you brought the pencil back closer to him again, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes. 
“Adam…” you huffed, making him open his eyes again.
“What!? You’ve got a sharp pencil so close to my eye! You really expect me to just be calm or some shit!?” he scoffed. 
“Don’t be a baby,” you teased and before he had time to even process what you were doing, he found you practically straddling his lap, your hand holding onto his cheek. 
His breath hitched in his throat, but he covered it up by pretending to clear his throat. Your body was so warm pressed against him… and so soft.
Oh fuck… he was blushing. 
It seemed like you knew what you were doing though, because his eyes were practically glued to you. Wide and unblinking, not wanting to miss a single one of your movements. 
And you took the opportunity and ran with it. You brought the pencil to his eye, almost touching, and he clenched his jaw a bit to resist his urge to close his eyes or flinch away. 
“Look up for me.” you instructed as you gently tilted his head downwards, and he obliged your directions, glancing up at the ceiling. 
He was scared as shit as the pencil grew closer and closer to his eye… but then suddenly it tickled? He couldn’t help but pull back slightly from the sensation.
“What the fuck…?” he huffed a laugh, which only made you laugh too.
“I told you it didn’t hurt. But you have to stay still okay? It’s gonna tickle a little bit, just try to ignore it.” you reassured him as you gently gripped his face a bit more firmly. 
He definitely noticed the way you leaned into him to get closer, your face only inches from his and he suppressed the urge to groan, instead bringing his gaze up towards the ceiling like he’d done before.
Adam fought with every ounce of strength to not let his eyes shut in defiance as the pencil tickled his waterline. He was relieved when you’d moved from his left eye to his right, figuring you were finally finished. But when you said it was time for the top, his eyes widened a bit.
“You’ll be fine, just look down this time.” you said, tilting his head up, and begrudgingly he obeyed. You gently placed your fingers on his eyelid, tugging it up as the pencil met his upper lash line.
“Jesus christ… this tickles worse.” he practically whined. He ignored the smile that pulled on your lips in response to his griping. 
What he couldn’t ignore though, was how cute you looked like this. Sitting on his lap, your eyes soft but so focused on lining his eyes perfectly. Your fingers gently guiding and pulling at his face. He liked your touch… maybe a little too much. 
That thought only made him blush and he looked away from you, still keeping his gaze downward like you’d instructed him too. He knew if he looked at your thighs pressed to his, his blush would only grow worse. Hell, his face would probably envy a tomato at that point. 
You worked from his left to his right eye again, and the sensation definitely didn’t get easier the second time around. It was insufferable, like a stuck eyelash that was constantly tickling and poking into his eyelid. “Are you done yet? This sucks… you like doing this!?” he asked, his tone full of disbelief. 
“Relax.” you said simply, running the pencil along his upper lash line a few more times before you pulled the pencil away completely. And leaned back away from him which he wouldn’t admit he didn’t like so much.
“Now just rub your eyes.” you said, reaching over to grab the pencil’s cap from the sink and sliding it over the pointy end. 
He looked at you quizzically for a moment. “But you just did all that… to mess it up?”
Your little laugh unwillingly pulled a small smile of his own to his lips. “Yeah, pretty much. That’s what makes it look cool… and like you don’t give a fuck.” you explained, and oddly enough, you were speaking Adam’s language. 
He huffed a laugh, still feeling a bit ridiculous, but obliged, using the heel of his palms to rub both of his eyes at the same time. When you gently grabbed at his wrists to tug his hands away, he peered up at you.  
He watched as a smile pulled on your lips as you looked him over. “Totally bad-ass.” you reassured him. 
Adam had to suppress a pout as you slid off his lap. He’d gotten really used to that closeness, and now that it was gone, he missed it. He wouldn’t admit it, of course. But he perked up when he realized now he could see what you’d done. 
Pulling himself to stand up, he turned to stand beside you in front of the mirror. “Damn,” he said simply. Your eyes were practically glued to his reflection, and he could tell you were worried that he’d hated it. He let a small smirk pull on his lips. “I look punk rock.” 
He tilted his head in a few different directions, looking over, and practically admiring his appearance in the mirror. He did look pretty cool and that made him feel cool too. “Maybe I should be the guitarist and singer for Wrath of the Gods instead of you.” he teased, earning him a gentle elbow to the ribs which made him laugh. 
He looked from his own reflection to yours beside him, and the way your eyes matched. It felt strangely intimate… and he liked it. He tangled his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into him–wanting to feel your closeness, but easily played it off as a friendly gesture. 
“What do you think? You think I look cool enough now?” he asked, enjoying the way you rolled your eyes despite your smile, and how you didn’t reject his touch… and instead you seemed to lean into it. 
“If you want me to tell you that you’re always cool… it’s not gonna happen.” you teased back, making him laugh. He liked that you were a little spunky. It only made him more attracted to you.
“Okay, okay… fine.” he said with another small laugh before turning his head to actually look at you, not your reflection. “We look pretty punk rock together, huh?” he asked a bit teasingly, though he was pleased at the way you practically giggled. You’d never giggled before and it felt like a huge accomplishment to him. 
“Shut up, Stanheight. You’re such a dork.” You rolled your eyes, but still had that same intoxicating smile. 
He glanced down towards your lips, telling himself he was just admiring the way they curved into the most precious smile he’d ever seen, but he knew that wasn’t true. He was actually wondering if your lips were really as soft as they looked. 
“Shit! We gotta go, Adam!” you interrupted his thoughts as you practically dashed from the bathroom. He glanced in the direction of the clock on the stove, seeing your source of panic. 
“Oh fuck, Scott’s gonna kill us both.” He quickly followed after you, hurrying to his darkroom to grab his camera, looping it around his neck as he met you back by the front door of the apartment. 
He admired only for a moment how good you looked with your guitar case strapped over your shoulder, and he couldn’t deny his excitement to see you on stage performing with so much energy and passion like you always did. 
You were quite the little rockstar, and he liked that. 
It was a silly thought,  but he also liked that your eyeliner matched… like in a weird way, your matching eye makeup was a claim on each other. He just hoped you were thinking the same thing he was. 
“C’mon!” you said, snatching up his hand as you ripped open the front door, pulling him along so hastily he barely had time to shut the door behind him. 
“Hey, hey… slow down,” he said as a bit of a huff. You begrudgingly slowed your roll, peering over your shoulder at him as you dropped his hand. He anxiously ran his fingers through his hair. 
“I was just kinda wondering… if you’d let me kiss you without the guys around.” When he noticed the way your brows raised at his request he quickly stumbled out, “You know! For good luck, duh!” 
Before he even had a moment to backpedal, say that he was just fucking around, there it was again, that soft little laugh that was practically a giggle.
“Well… if it’s for good luck.” you said, stepping closer to him and making his heart race in his chest. He gently reached up and cupped the side of your face, tilting your head up a bit as he leaned in. He watched the way you leaned in too as your eyes fluttered softly shut, and he swore he melted in that moment.
He shut his eyes too, as he closed the distance between your lips, kissing you softly. It only lasted a few moments before you pulled away first, though he didn’t mind. He was awestruck that you’d even let him kiss you. 
He got to kiss you, and he knew for a fact that your lips were indeed as soft as they looked. He was a fish and you cast out the line, hooking him in. He didn’t just want to kiss you again, he felt like he had to. Until your words quickly shut down that desire.
“C’mon, let’s go before Scott loses his shit over how late we are.” you said with a small, almost shy smile. 
“No way…! What if that wasn’t enough good luck!?” he playfully argued, making you laugh. 
“Then if we totally blow tonight, I’ll let you give me a little extra good luck later. Deal?” you offered, and this time, it was his turn to laugh. 
“Okay, fine… deal.” he agreed a bit reluctantly, though that reluctance faded as soon as you tangled your arm around his waist, and he did the same to you.
Usually he hated being the personal photographer for Scott and Wrath of the Gods, but tonight he was rather excited about it. He already knew most of his pictures would be of you. 
And even if you guys killed it tonight… he was still dead set on giving you that extra good luck once you guys got home later, anyways.
80 notes · View notes
strawberry-whorecake · 3 months
Text
A Long Overdue Update ੈ✩‧₊˚
Hiiiii!!!
I haven’t abandoned this account, but just a little update and a fun fact, I suppose; I’m a neurodivergent writer, and (unfortunately) my hyperfixation with Adam Driver has died down quite a lot, so consequently, I’m not super interested in writing for him at the moment.
I kinda go through almost a yearly Adam Driver hyperfixation, so I’m sure he’ll make his return at some point, but as for right now my special interests have shifted elsewhere.
My updates and posts might still be a little infrequent and spaced out. My job takes up a lot of my free time while also trying to navigate other responsibilities and maintaining relationships which takes a lot out of me.
I’m very sorry to disappoint, I know I’ve gained attention through my Adam Driver fics, but I’d earnestly appreciate it if you decided to stick around and see what else I’ve got up my sleeve!
If you don’t want to, that’s totally okay too <3 I’m not gonna hold it against you ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎˚୨୧
1 note · View note
strawberry-whorecake · 7 months
Text
One Hell of a Star | C.B.
Tumblr media
pairing: Charlie Barber x fem!reader
summary: Being an aspiring actress, fresh off the press of Julliard, Charlie Barber’s theater company was the first place you put your bets on into making it. However, your audition doesn’t go quite how you’re used to, not that you’re complaining.
word count: 4.3k
warnings: swearing, power dynamic, abuse of power, PinV sex, unprotected sex, cum eating, slight dubcon
A/N: i’ve been writing so much Kylo, i decided to take a break with Charlie
Charlie Barber was the most sought after director in New York. His theater company, Exit Ghost, was exactly where you found yourself being a young, aspiring actress. It was the first place you figured you had a real shot, and after hearing nothing but good about Charlie Barber, it was worth that shot.
The halls glowed a soft orange as your shoes echoed against the linoleum with every step you took. It was mostly empty, only passing about two other people who paid you no mind as you walked along.
Reaching the main theater doors, you took a reaffirming breath as you pulled them open, the doors groaning in response. The theater was dimly lit and barren of anyone except for the back of a head containing raven colored soft waves.
Upon the doors' announcement of your arrival he smoothly turned his head and peered over his shoulder. "Can I help you?"
You'd recognized him in local papers and from website articles critiquing him with high praise for his work. "Oh, I'm so sorry to disturb you," your eyes flashed to the notebook he'd previously been scrawling his thoughts away in. "Uh, hi, are you Charlie Barber?" you asked, taking a few steps into the theater. He set his preoccupations aside and stood, swelling to his full 6'2 height.
"I am, and you are?" He looked you over as you two approached one another, taking in every aspect of your appearance while you introduced yourself. He stuck out his hand, giving yours a shake. His grip was firm, confident, and your handshake in comparison felt weak. Just as weak as you felt in the knees taking in the sight of the handsome man.
"I've heard all about your theater company–I saw your play on Broadway, Electra, it was excellent." He smiled at your praise and nodded his head in thanks. "I'm an actress–er, I'd like to be." You lowered your gaze, holding out your makeshift resume of previous productions you'd been a part of. He took it from your grip, letting his eyes graze over the paper.
His brows furrowed softly as he made mental note of everything you've done thus far. "You've never been a part of a proper play?" His tone was gentle despite his words being vaguely critical. "No sir, Mr. Barber, I've just graduated from Julliard, I've only done college productions..."
He raised a brow, his dark eyes meeting yours. "Julliard, huh? They're tough to get into." You nodded, but he spoke again before you could get a word out. "And please, call me Charlie, Mr. Barber was my father and makes me feel much older than I am." he chuckled softly, easing you into a gentle smile.
"Charlie," you familiarized yourself with the feeling of his name on your lips. "I know I'm asking a great deal from you, being rather inexperienced, but I'd like to ask you to take a chance on me."
He considered you, his eyes grazing over your appearance again. His gaze drifted across your features for a few moments before he allowed himself to peer at your frame only for a second–meeting your eyes again.
"So you're looking to audition then?" You nodded, "Truth is, I'd be honored to be a part of your company, even if I'm not on the stage, just being a part of Exit Ghost would be an incredible privilege."
"You've brought a piece to audition with?" You nodded once more, shuffling through the papers you'd held in your hand and outstretched another one toward him, which he immediately looked over. "Ah, Juliet's most famous monologue from Act 2, Scene 2." his words were butter-smooth, and you suddenly flushed.
"It's not too stereotypical, is it?" you chewed at the inside of your lip in nervousness, immediately second guessing your monologue decision–out of every monologue to ever exist you went with perhaps the most well known.
Charlie immediately took note of your sudden nerves and bid you a sweet, consoling smile. "No, no. It's good to play to your strengths, Romeo and Juliet is a classic for a reason, is it not? It's, uh, timeless."
You smiled, relief washing over you in waves. Charlie's gaze lingered to the stage for a moment before his lip curled slightly in the corner. "We can take this to my office, the stage's just been polished–it might be too slick to stand on currently." His hand lightly pressed against your lower back, guiding you back out the doors of the theater.
Following behind him, you made your way through the hall coming to a stop at a door that had a golden plaque hanging dead-center labeled, 'Director'. He pushed open the door, gesturing you in with his strong hand.
You took a few steps in, looking around at the office as Charlie followed in after you, shutting the door, making you look at him. "Oh, I'm sorry–would you prefer I left it open?" His brows raised softly as he spoke. "No, that's okay. It's your office."
He chuckled, his tone was mellifluous, a slight playfulness hung on his voice when he spoke. "It's your audition." You bid him a smile as he bypassed you, rearing around his desk and taking a seat in his chair, folding his hands together.
"Whenever you're ready to begin, you can." He gestured to you once more with a roll of his hand as he crossed his leg over his thigh and placed his hold onto his calf with one hand–effortlessly draping his other atop his opposite arm. You took a deep breath, and softly cleared your throat, mustering up your stage persona.
You lifted your head confidently, swelling your chest, and feigned your best love-stricken look–though in the presence of this admittedly handsome man, looking lovestruck was nowhere near impossible.
"O, Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?" Your voice was desperate, calling out. "Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn, my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."
"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?" Charlie's voice was gentle, taking you slightly off-guard as you hadn't expected him to take Romeo's lines, but you were oddly relieved he had–filling the silence between Juliet's monologue. He ran his hand through his hair, cocking his head slightly as he looked at you.
You wet your lips, keeping your gaze on him because you just couldn't help yourself, he was elegantly handsome.
"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art myself, though not a Montague–" you began the following part of Juliet's monologue, performing with great ease as it came naturally for you, while simultaneously watching Charlie's reactions to your audition.
As your chest would swell with confidence, he'd gently lean his head back, his eyes drifting over your frame, likely judging your stage presence. "What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot," you took a step forward, contemplatively. "Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man."
Another step forward, your fingers clutched the edge of his desk as you cried out desperately, "O, be some other name!"
Charlie's eyes studied you the entire time, your expressions were one he lingered on the longest. You pulled away from his desk, wrapping your arms around your own shoulders. "What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet."
Continuing the monologue you watched as Charlie stood, breezing around the side of his desk as he placed himself upon the corner, closing more distance between you two as he studied you. You took a great chance and pulled yourself closer to him, closing in more distance as your heart beat faster.
"-take all myself." the final line of the monologue ghosted off your lips, your voice nothing more than a hushed whisper. Your eyes interlocked with his. You didn't speak, awaiting your feedback and criticisms, and the silence that echoed throughout the room as you two both beheld each other.
His hand snaked up, fingertips gently caressing your cheek as he drew your face nearer to his. "I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; henceforth. I will never be Romeo." he muttered, words gliding off his tongue with ease.
His thumb traced up to your lips, your face burned with heat as he stroked your bottom lip with his thumb, your chin resting in the crook between his index finger and thumb as he held your gaze firm to his.
His thumb edged deeper into your lips, splitting them apart. You allowed his action, intoxicated with his touch and his attention, but you gently nipped at the tip of his thumb with your teeth, watching as his lip curled into a soft smirk.
Your heart skipped a beat–this was surely never the way any previous audition had gone down, and you convinced yourself if any other director had done this to you, you would've kicked him where it hurt... but Charlie...
Charlie had you enamored. You craved nothing more than his recognition, his touch. You were putty in his hands, and little did you know he planned to shape you into the budding star he saw you as.
"Quite the little Juliet you are." his words came out as a breath as he gently pulled your face closer to his. His nose touched your skin first, dug delicately into the plush of your cheeks before his lips made contact with your jaw–his thumb and forefinger pinching at your chin to keep your face close to his.
"Tell me..." he whispered against your flesh, "How good do you think Romeo made Juliet feel?" You couldn't stop your breath from hitching in your throat as he spoke. Your hand inadvertently grabbed hold of his leg as your thighs squeezed together.
He chuckled breathily as he watched your desperate attempt for friction, but he was in the lead, diving his knee between your legs and drove them apart. He took the opportunity to let his free hand snake around your waist, resting against the small of your back as he pulled you closer to him.
The smell of Charlie's cologne filled your senses, it was robust and masculine with undertones of leathers and wood, while being incredibly elegant and lavish. The scent alone made desire burn through your core.
His hand teased lower, cupping your ass and shoving you flush against him. "Charlie-!" you squeaked out in surprise. His fingers squeezed your chin, making you look up into his eyes through your lashes.
"How badly do you want to be an actress?" he purred, drawing his thumb back to your bottom lip again as he gripped your chin against his palm.
"M-more than anything..." you squeaked again, using all your control to not whine. His face zeroed in on yours, his eyes narrowing and darkening slightly. "Prove it."
He shoved his thumb into your mouth and you closed your lips around it, drawing in your cheeks and sucking on his digit. His eyes locked in on the sight of your mouth around his thumb, watching the way your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked–his own lips parting in awe. He pulled it free with an obscene pop before smearing your saliva across your bottom lip.
His hand trailed down your body, his eyes following the movements of his hand. "We need to take these off. I need to study you."
His hands clutched at the fabric of your shirt and despite your embarrassment you raised your arms, allowing him to pull your top over your head. You were taken aback as he folded your shirt in half and placed it with care on his knee. He wasted no time to begin fidgeting with the clasp of your jeans, working with his thick fingers to unbutton them.
The craving in your core forced your own fingers to assist him, kicking off your shoes before sliding your thumbs into the waistband of your jeans, dragging them down the plush of your hips, then your thighs, until you pulled them all the way off.
He took the pants from your hands, folding them with the same care and placed them on top of your shirt. He stood to his full height making you raise your head to keep your eyes on his. He placed your clothes in the chair that sat kitty-cornered to his desk, using his foot to sweep your shoes in that direction.
He swept around you, leaving your back vulnerable to him as you peered over your shoulder as he took you in. His brows furrowed softly, "No, not good enough. I need to really see you." Big warm hands grazed the small of your back again before tracing up and unclasping the hooks of your bra. He then grabbed onto your side, spinning you rather harshly to face him.
His eyes draped over your chest before meeting your eyes–locking in on your wide-eyed expression as he pulled your bra off your body, your nipples pebbling in the open air of his office. He draped it over his forearm as he indulged himself in looking at your breasts, his tongue darting along his bottom lip as he took in the sight of you.
"Almost." he hummed, looping his fingers into the waistband of your panties. His thick fingers pressing against your pelvis made your body burn with a mix of need and embarrassment.
This was definitely not how any other audition played out.
With an easy tug, he pulled the fabric down your hips, offering you his other arm to steady yourself as you stepped out of them. He placed the two articles in the chair with the rest of your clothing before returning his attention to you.
You bit your lip to silence the whimpers that leeched in your throat at the sight of him observing you fully bared for him, before he caught wind of your nerves and met your eyes again. "Stunning." he purred.
Your cheeks flooded with warmth the second his fingers reached out and trailed down your side, starting just below your ribs before stopping at your hip. He drew you closer to him, pressing you flush against him and you felt the tent in his pants from his half-hard cock prod against your lower belly.
"Let me spoil you like a real star." his words fell off his lips in a breathy grunt. His eyes searched yours for a moment and when you nervously nodded your head he dove his lips into yours.
The feeling of his plush pink lips against yours shot shockwaves through your nerve endings. It was hot–full of fervor–the way his lips worked. His chest fell as he exhaled against your lips, his thick fingers trailing around your waist, and he squeezed at the plush of your ass.
He kissed you heavily, pressing his hips firmly to your body as your hands rose up to his chest, gently dragging your fingernails down his shirt. You desperately wanted him to remove his clothing too–if anything, just to ease your nerves over being the only one so exposed, but you knew you were in no position to ask, forcing you to swallow down the thought.
The hand not fondling your ass rose between your breasts, circling itself around your throat before gently squeezing at the sides. You didn't have the time to stifle the breathy moan you pressed against his lips.
He smirked as he pulled away from you. He took in the sight of you once more before he grabbed hold of your waist and spun you around so your back was to him.
He trailed his thick fingers down your flesh, following the line starting at your shoulder blades and ending at the dimples in your waist. His hips rutted against yours forcefully, making you gasp and stick out your hands to his desk to balance yourself.
"You're perfect." he hummed, diving his hand around your waist as he reached between your thighs, his thick fingers sliding though your slit. Feeling how wet you were for him pulled a breathy chuckle from his throat.
"Oh you're quite the little star already, aren't you?" his words felt slightly jeering, making you whimper in protest. His fingers worked at your core, drawing meticulous circles around your clit. His hips rutted into yours again, pressing his hardness against your ass, and eliciting a moan from your throat.
He pulled his hand away from your folds and you bit down on your lip at the loss of contact, missing the feeling of his thick fingers on you until you heard the clack of his belt coming undone.
You peered over your shoulder to look at him, watching as he unbuttoned his slacks and pulled them down just enough to free himself from his boxers.
You gaped at the sight of him–his cock was much bigger than you'd anticipated, the vision of it made your thighs tremble and your cunt clench around nothing.
He caught sight of you looking, seeing your knees wobble softly and he chuckled again, "Don't worry, you can take it." He stroked himself a few times, swirling his precum along his length. He grunted softly as his fist worked him for a moment, before he grabbed hold of your hips again.
His hand trailed up your back, gently shoving your body downward and urging you to arch your back. You swallowed down a whimper as his tip slid between your slit, gathering your slick on the tip of his cock.
He teased you a few times by thrusting through your folds, making you whimper out and clench around nothing again. Another mocking chuckle escaped his throat. "Okay, I'm done teasing."
His tip aligned with your entrance, and you bit down on your lip as he dug his fingers into the plump flesh of your hip, easing himself inside of you.
"Fuck–" he huffed, "You are tight."
His explicit words made you moan out as your cunt throbbed, pulling him deeper into you. He withdrew slightly, making you whimper. "C-Charlie... p-please..." you pleaded.
He hummed in response before slamming his hips into yours, making you cry out at the sudden intrusion that seared between your legs. He repeated the action, groaning as you whined again.
Once he bottomed out inside of you he gripped your hips, pulling you against his length as he thrust in and out of you.
"Sh-Shit-!" you panted.
He filled you up so well, his cock nestled itself perfectly in your pussy, taking up all the room you offered him–which compared to his size–wasn't much.
"Language." he hissed through his teeth, ramming his hips sharply into yours again, making you cry out at the force.
He found rhythm, methodically unsheathing from you before thrusting in again. "God–you feel so good." he praised, squeezing at your hips.
Your brows knit as he hit spots of you no guy ever had before, all thanks to the sheer size of him. His cockhead nestled itself against your cervix, prodding it insistently.
His hands wrapped around your waist, moving toward your lower tummy where he felt himself inside you. "Filling you up so good, aren't I?" he hummed.
"F-Fuck... Charlie..." you moaned, earning another hiss through his teeth as a response. "I need to fill that filthy mouth of yours."
He hastily shoved his middle and ring finger into your mouth, making you gag at the intrusion before humming against them. "There... isn't that better?"
You whined in reply, sucking on his digits as you rocked your hips in pace with his, your brows knitting again in pleasure.
The drag of his hips was agonizing, and every time he withdrew your cunt clamped down around him, not wanting him to leave you. He groaned every time you pulled him back in, driving his fingers deeper into your mouth again making you gag once more.
He pulled his fingers from your mouth, quickly placing them on your waist, "Turn around, I need to see that pretty face." He simultaneously pulled out of you, making you whine as a brief emptiness settled over your insides. He spun you around so you now faced him, leaning against your arms for leverage, and he wasted no time to bury his cock deep inside you again.
He watched as your eyes nearly shut and your brows furrowed together, absolutely drunk on his dick. He leaned forward, placing sloppy open-mouthed kisses on your breast, keeping one hand on your hip as the other kneaded at your opposite. He groaned against your flesh, his hot breath exhaling from his nose as it dug softly against you.
He pulled away from your chest, moving his lips up to your neck as he fucked into you. "You're absolutely gorgeous like this–" he panted against your skin. You could only moan in response. "You take me so, so well."
You were already teetering on the edge of ecstasy, which you hardly ever did off pure penetration, but he hit every fucking mark.
You looked up at him rather pathetically, the knot in your core tightening incredibly as you looked at him. His brows were furrowed in focus, his forehead had a soft sheen of sweat, and his lips parted as he breathed heavily.
His already dark eyes looked black from being blown with lust as they caught yours and his lips curled into another smirk, eliciting a whimper from your throat. "You want to cum, is that it?"
Your mind was fuzzy from your impending orgasm and the sheer sight of him. You whimpered as a response. "No–use your words."
"P-Please!" you cried out, cheeks burning in embarrassment at your haste. He chuckled breathily, "Good…good girl."
Catching you by surprise he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before diving into your lips again. His thick fingers snaked between your legs, pads finding your clit again. You moaned against his lips, making him swallow down your noises as he drew tight organized circles against your bundle of nerves.
Your thighs trembled at the added pleasure. "Fuck! Charlie!"
His grip on your waist spared, still using his other hand to tease your clit, his fingers dove into your mouth again. "What did I say about that mouth, hmm?" His digits pressed against your tongue, gently pulling your mouth open as you panted around them.
Your walls clenched, the knot in your core unbearably tight. "C-Charlie-" you attempted to speak around his fingers but it came out all muddled. His eyes met yours beneath his heavy brow. "You gonna cum, gorgeous?"
You nodded, feeling his thrusts and fingers around your clit pick up pace–moving frantically–the fingers in your mouth prodding against your tongue as you moved your head. "Cum on my cock, pretty girl." he purred, his eyes hungrily staring into yours.
As if he'd uttered the magic words, the knot in your core unraveled and your arms that held you up shook as your vision blurred, waves of white flooding your brain as your crescendo hit.
You cried out, trembling in intensity as he pulled his fingers from your mouth, steadying you with his grip again. Your cunt throbbed against him, as he continued pace, chasing his own orgasm. You listened as his breath hitched in his throat, grunting between breaths and he quickly withdrew his fingers and pulled out of you, frantically taking himself in his hand as he stroked himself off.
He grabbed a fistful of your hair and harshly pushed you to your knees, groans and expletives pouring past his lips. "Open." he ordered. You obliged, propping open your jaw as you looked up at him from your knees, looking between his hand pumping his cock and his face.
You watched as his chest stuttered, his tip twitching and he quickly used the grip on your hair to bury himself into your mouth–making you gag again and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You could barely close your lips around his girth, but did you surely try your damnedest.
His essence flooded your tongue, overwhelming your tastebuds with sweet saltiness as he let out a strangled groan. You swallowed as best you could around him, which he bid you the courtesy of pulling from your mouth as you struggled against his size, but not for long before he pressed his tip to your lips again, making you clean him off.
You pulled him from your mouth with an obscene pop, before taking him in your hand and lapping your tongue along the underside of his cock, eyes looking up to him. He groaned at the feeling, prying open his eyes to peer down at you.
He released your hair, grabbing for your hand as he helped you to your feet before immediately smashing his lips against yours, tasting himself off your tongue. His hand smoothed over your ass again, reveling in the softness of your flesh before he pulled away.
"Rehearsals start Thursday at noon. Be there on time." he huffed as he shoved himself back in his pants. You stood speechlessly for a moment–recounting what just happened in your head. His eyes met yours, his brows raising slightly, "Do you understand?"
You quickly nodded your head, "Yes. Thursday, noon sharp." He smirked softly. "Good." He turned, grabbing ahold of your clothes and outstretched them to you.
You redressed, your skin burning in embarrassment as his eyes kept their focus on you. He only stopped looking at you once you pulled your jeans back up your waist, rebuttoning them.
He reared around his desk, grabbing the papers you'd given to him when you first arrived in the theater room, and he outstretched those to you too.
"I'm gonna make you one hell of a star." he hummed, shamelessly running his hand along your backside again as he saw you out of his office.
You bit your lip nervously, begging you weren't walking funny from your 'audition'.
"What time Thursday?" he called after you, making you spin on your heel. "Noon."
He grinned. "Perfect."
You bid him a smile as you spun back around, your mind racing as you left the building. If your audition consisted of Charlie burying his cock in you, you couldn't wait to find out what was in store for you during rehearsals.
109 notes · View notes
strawberry-whorecake · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
Kylo Ren/Ben Solo Writers
Banner by the lovely @theywhowriteandknowthings
Writer masterlist by character
Writers! Tag us or use the hashtag #starwarsficnetwork to be featured! But please have your age/age range in your bio. If you’d like to be removed, send us a dm!
*will be updated regularly*
Listed in alphabetical order:
@beskarinhyperspace
@darth-dre
@hannibals-favourite-meal
@honeybubblebeeeeee
@inklore
@kowaiitenshii
@kylosjuul
@moonlightsolo
@mylifeisactuallyamess
@soaronmywings
@spectoris
@srorgana1
@stranger-nightmare
@strawberry-whorecake
@theunboundmeg
@vibrantbirdy
56 notes · View notes
strawberry-whorecake · 7 months
Text
We’re Going To Destroy Each Other | K.R.
Tumblr media
pairing: Kylo Ren x fem!reader
summary: Combat training with Kylo is exhaustive, but he’s willing to push your boundaries to the benefit of the both of you with a little extra motivation.
word count: 1.9k
warnings: swearing, angst (?), injury, PinV sex, unprotected sex, slapping, choking, dirty talk
A/N: i’m sorry my posts have been fair-and-far few— i got covid and literally rot in bed for like two weeks :,) hopefully this makes up for it ?? also can we appreciate Adam in that gif lightsaber training...holy fuck
“I can’t do it!” you yelled. 
You were sweating so profusely, your training clothes were drenched and stuck to you uncomfortably. Your chest rose and fell with heavy pants—gasps for breaths. 
“You can do it, you’re just weak.” he spat.
You’d been combat training with Ren for weeks now, and you weren’t improving in the slightest.
You extinguished your lightsaber and threw it to the ground, along with yourself, and exhaled heavily. “I can’t fucking do it, just drop it, Ren.” Your brows drew together as you pouted slightly.
His jaw tensed and his right eye twitched as he towered over you. “I could easily kill you, you threw down your weapon—you’re admitting defeat.” He outstretched his saber and approached you. He held the hot flaming blade closer to your neck than you preferred. “One swipe, you’d be nothing.” He held his stance, his lightsaber inching closer to your neck.
“Kylo, I’m tired. I just need a break.” you pleaded, his weapon now centimeters from your flesh as you inched away. 
“An enemy wouldn’t let you rest.” He spat. 
You looked into his eyes only for a moment, he was watching you, trying to contemplate your next move. His eye twitched once more then—
Tssssss
“OW! FUCK!” Your hand flew out and your lightsaber became one with your palm. You gripped it tighter, propelling yourself up and on your feet as you switched it on faster than lightspeed.
You swiftly ducked and caught Kylo’s saber with yours, forcing it away from you.
“Very good…” he practically purred.
You grunted as you dodged Kylo’s attack—an attempt to hit you in the abdomen. You shoved with all your might to keep his blade away from your body, trying to ignore the sweat pooling in your brows.
“Come on, I’m going easy on you.” he teased.
You grunted as you launched yourself into the air behind him, trying to catch him off-guard, but Ren was too quick. He had spun just as instantly as you’d swept behind him.
“You have to be unpredictable.” he issued, with the smallest movement of his wrist the heat of his crossblade singed the flesh of your arm. You cried out as the blade made contact.
You furrowed your brows at the smug look on his face, “How’s this for unpredictable?” You swung your lightsaber into the air, catching it in your dominant hand and faked an upper-hand attack making Kylo jump into defense before you swiped it across Kylo’s abdomen—you didn’t use enough force to really hurt him, just enough to scare him.
“Shit!” Kylo hissed between his teeth, reeling back so quickly he dropped his weapon and toppled onto his knees to clutch at his now exposed and burnt flesh. 
You instantly dove for his saber when he was preoccupied, and swirled it in a circle before pointing it to his neck.
He looked up at you for a moment, his eyes wide and racing to look between the two of yours.
“I could easily kill you.” you teased him like he had you.
He blinked slowly, desperate to catch his breath. In this moment, you weren’t the one who was looking weak. You smirked. 
Kylo swallowed harshly as you inched the sputtering blade of his own weapon closer to his neck. If you truly wanted to, you could have completely lopped his head clean off—but you didn’t.
You thought Kylo was going to speak, but instead, he threw up his arm and both lightsabers soared out of your hands. What you hadn’t expected was for your body to also go flying.
You didn’t know he threw you against the wall until you’d heard the slight crack! sound and opened your eyes, only moments later with a massive pain in the back of your skull. 
“What the fuck, Ren?!” you groaned, rubbing the spot your head must've made contact with the wall before checking for blood. 
Kylo was already standing over you. “We’re going to destroy each other.” he spat with venom. 
Despite the burns on your flesh, and the now massive bump growing on the back of your head, you laughed. “That’s what makes it so fun.”
Kylo grabbed you by your throat and smashed your lips against his. You jumped up and wrapped your arms around his neck, him picking you up as you lept. 
You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed your back against the wall, never pulling away from the kiss. 
Kylo ripped hastily at your top, trying to remove it from your sticky flesh. You helped him pull it over your head, diving your hands towards his pants where you worked hurriedly to get them off. You hooked your thumbs around the band of your leggings as Kylo supported you with one hand so you could get them off. You pulled his shirt over his head as you pulled him tighter against you with the strength of your legs.
He moved his lips down your jaw before landing on the still sensitive flesh on your neck he’d burned previously. He kissed gently at first, then took a rather harsh nip that immediately drew blood. 
“Fuck!” you pushed his face away from your neck, seeing the trace of your blood on his lips as he smirked at you. “You bastard!” you groaned as you collided with his lips, running your tongue along his bottom lip and tasting the coppery flavor of your blood. You opened your mouth slightly to grant him access, which he immediately granted your wish and sank your tongue with his. 
You pulled at Kylo’s pants, practically begging him to take them off. When he obeyed you took him in your hand, pumping him with rather tensed fingers. You playfully dragged your nails down his base causing him to groan and slap your hand away.
As you giggled he spat into his hand and stroked himself before he pulled your underwear aside, positioning his cock at your entrance, it twitching in anticipation. 
He looked at you as he thrust himself inside, watching as your face contorted in a mix of pain and pleasure as he split you open.
He held you tightly against the wall making sure you were at least stable while he was going to tear you in half from the inside out. He adored the way your eyebrows knit as you desperately tried to adjust to his size. 
As you whimpered, Kylo chuckled. He truly loved watching you struggle.
Without any warning, he withdrew himself before ramming back into you again, somehow deeper this time. You dug your nails into his back, causing him to wince slightly.
His eye twitched once more before he shut them completely, then he started to pick up his pace. He began thrusting in and out of you, slow at first, then a bit faster.
He’d only speed up when you’d moan for him to do so. Hearing you beg for him was one of the best parts. “Fuck...Kylo—” you whined, and he fucked up into you with a little more haste. His thrusts became rhythmic as he worked your walls to adapt to his size. He was pounding into you with such power that you repeatedly hit the sore spot on your head against the wall behind you—but you were too intoxicated by Kylo to truly care. 
Kylo’s head dove toward your neck, on the opposite side of where he’d already made you bleed. He sucked harshly on your flesh, making sure to leave a sore purpling spot right where his lips resided. He may had been infatuated with seeing you in the pain that he caused you, but what he loved more was seeing the marks he left on you.
When he pulled off your neck, he looked deeply into your eyes. He brushed some stray hair off that clung to your forehead before he spoke breathily, “You’re mine.” he panted. “Yours.” you moaned. 
Kylo held you close as he carried you over to the combat mats and set you gently down on top of them. He balled his hand into a fist and placed it beside your head as he used his other to hold onto your breast.
He pawed at them and squeezed, placing sloppy kisses on the flesh that wasn’t covered by your sports bra. 
You sat up slightly and worked to pull the bra over your head, Kylo helping you after a while. With your breasts exposed he immediately took one in his mouth and rolled his tongue over your nipple, sending shockwaves through your muscles. You groaned in pleasure as he continued ramming his hips into yours.
“F-Fuck…Kylo—” you whimpered. He had left some scattered marks down your chest before he purred, “Shhh—don’t speak.” You moaned again as he took your throat into his hand, it squeezed gently but with enough force on the sides of your neck to restrict just enough air urging you to reach your peak. 
He groaned as he felt your walls growing more claustrophobic around his cock, and it began to twitch.
“You want me to cum inside you?” he purred.
You nodded your head the best you could with his restraint around your neck. “Beg.” he growled.
“P-Please—” you whined brokenly. 
He lightly struck the side of your cheek enough to leave a gentle tingle. “I said beg.” 
His movements were becoming irregular as his hips began to stutter. The way he stared into your eyes with adoration and lust as he pounded you, and struck you, caused heat to well in your gut. “Please Kylo, please cum in me.” you pleaded pathetically.
He smirked again, exposing his perfect dimples. “Of course, Princess.”
He gripped your neck a little tighter as you arched your back, feeling him from every angle. You both became erratic moaning messes as the heat flowed from your gut to your thighs.
“Your pussy is so perfect for me to fill up.” he growled as his cock twitched inside you. He groaned as he began to slip, his rhythm coming to a full halt when he buried himself to the hilt inside of you and released his load deep inside your cunt. 
He thrust in a few more times, much more slowly, lasting out the hindmost moments of his orgasm. 
His body collapsed against yours with a groan, as you pushed his hair out of his face. When you both caught the glance of each other, you exchanged exhausted giggles. 
Kylo’s eyes drifted to the spot where he’d sank his teeth into and kissed it very gently, then trailed his lips along your arm onto the spot you’d gotten singed from his blade. 
As he got off you, you sat up too, softly running your fingers against the red line trailing across Kylo’s stomach. The feeling of your nails made him wince, but he knew you weren’t trying to hurt him. 
He pulled his boxers back over himself as he walked to retrieve the rest of your clothes. He handed you your leggings and your shirt as he slipped swiftly into his pants.
You tugged your sports bra on, following thereafter your shirt. Kylo helped you off the mats and onto the floor so you could slide into your leggings—with some difficulty being slick and sweaty, so you were thankful for his help on your already trembling legs. 
When you both had gotten yourself situated once more, Kylo walked back over to where you both had been standing practicing combat. He tossed your lightsaber to you and you promptly caught it.
“You really think we’re going to destroy each other?” you asked half-heartedly.
“Not for a while,” he smirked. “I like you too much.” His eyes met yours as he clicked his weapon to life, standing in a ready stance as he awaited your move.
328 notes · View notes
strawberry-whorecake · 8 months
Text
Hopeless | K.R.
Tumblr media
pairing: Kylo Ren x fem!reader
summary: Love? Kylo Ren wasn’t in love… was he? How could he be in love? How could someone like you make him feel like this?
word count: 4.4k
warnings: fluff, slight graphic depictions, swearing, kylo ren is in denial
requested by: @artemiscrios
A/N: i’m sorry this request took so long but i hope you like it !!! if you’re interested i’d be more than willing to make a pt 2 that includes smut- this prompt just felt so fitting to be a fluff
He was utterly kriffed.
He was Supreme Leader of the First Order— the man single-handedly going to bring justice to the galaxy. He was strong… powerful.
Yet here he was. And here you were. 
He remembered how everything had started.
“Eat.” he ordered, he couldn’t help the demanding tone in his voice as he looked at you. 
You sat with your back to him, refusing to look at him. “I’m not hungry.” you retorted. 
His eye twitched, but even though you wouldn’t turn to him his mask concealed it anyway. “You haven’t eaten in four days.” 
“I’m not eating anything you bring me.” you spat. 
Gods he wished you would just give in. To stop resisting him. 
With a quick-drawn and sharp inhale he keeled forward, placing the tray on the floor of your cell. He watched as your head turned ever so slightly, peering from the corner of your eyes over your shoulder. He stood to his full height, clasping his hands behind his back. 
“You’d be wise to do as you’re told. You’re not going anywhere. You have nowhere to go.” 
He’d almost thought he’d imagined it… but no. It was there. That ever so soft sniffle that gently echoed off the walls. He stood utterly still for a moment, swallowing down the urge to huff as his eye twitched again.
“Eat.” he mustered up once more. Hands still clasped behind his back he swiveled and exited your cell, his composure as collected as ever. 
But Kylo didn’t want to admit it… you enveloped him. 
He remembered your first night upon the Finalizer you were rowdy, kicking and screaming, baring your teeth and snarling. Combative. Your second day wasn’t much different. He could feel your indignation— your anger. 
The third day greeted him with the silent treatment, your newfound attempt at torturing him since you discovered your pugnaciousness got you nowhere. 
Then, day four, he could feel it. The dejection. 
You were no longer in denial nor angry, but you refused acceptance, settling yourself into despondency. 
Kylo stalked the halls, the influxes of greetings and polite bows seemed almost blurred in his mind as his brain raced a mile a minute. 
Regret? Kylo Ren didn’t feel regret— he shouldn’t feel regret. 
“We’ve acquired an escapee, Supreme Leader.” a pair of Stormtroopers dragged a shaking and writhing little thing towards him, shouting and arguing against their hold on her body. 
“Let me go! PUT ME DOWN!” sobs wracked your words, your breaths gasping as you tried to swallow down oxygen. 
He didn’t blame your hysteria. The scene unfolding before your eyes was a gruesome one. Bodies splayed the streets of Cardota, blood soaked the pavements. Structures crumbled, dust filled the air. And it was all his doing. 
He stood watching, silent, as the Stormtroopers forced you to your knees before him, you still fought against them, but the trembling made you weak in comparison to them. “Should we kill her too, Supreme Leader?” 
He parted his lips beginning to order that everyone was to be terminated— until his eyes fell onto yours.
Wide, brimming with tears of pain and anger. His words paused in his throat. You had no way of knowing, but as soon as your gazes locked, it was game over.
“No.” he ordered instead. “Release her.” 
He saw the relief flood to your system, but that’s not what he’d meant. The Stormtroopers slackened their grip as Kylo watched you fall to the ground before attempting to scramble upward. 
With an eased outstretch of his hand your movements ceased, the Force straining your muscles and pinning you to the ground, your eyes still wide, still enraged and sorrowful, but now they glimmered with a hint of confusion. 
He crouched down, waving his leather cladden hand across your face and gently ordered, “Sleep.”
Watching as you had no choice to compel, your eyes fluttered shut as your consciousness drifted away. 
“Pull out the divisions, our job here is done.” he ordered the Stormtroopers, ignoring the chorus of “Yes, Supreme Leader.” as he kept his mask locked on you. 
He swept forward, effortlessly pulling you into his arms, cradling you like a small and defenseless child. Your unconscious head laid against his rapidly beating heart, his thoughts reeling— what was he doing? 
Why did he feel this… this need to be near you— as if he wanted to protect you?
He carried you onto his ship, transferring you into a cell as he carefully, as if you’d shatter with too much pressure, laid you on the floor. 
Safe. On his ship. His. 
Kylo didn’t regret the blood that was shed, that tainted his hands. He didn’t feel sorry for any of the lives he’d taken… right?
But something possessed him— something soiled his spirits the moment he met your eyes, and it only worsened when he’d carried you in his arms.
Who were you? You were nobody, surely. Just a Cardota local girl. You had no affiliations with the war, with his plans for the galaxy— one half of him argued.
The other half begged to differ. You were someone. He could sense it within you every time he was near you, and kriff’s sake he couldn’t stand to not be near you… that was definitely something. 
But what was it about you? 
He’d whisked off to his private quarters, his mind still reeled with you— it was completely encompassed with you… why?
It infuriated him, part of him wanted to kill you, be free of the drawing compulsion he felt towards you. But he couldn’t seem to do it. Just the idea of killing you filled him with a feeling he hated more than his affliction for you. A feeling he thought he was better than to feel. 
Even on the other side of the ship he could hear into your thoughts as if you were clearly speaking to him. He could hear your indignation toward him and the hint of exhaustion in your scorn. You despised him— he’d taken everything from you. 
He crossed his chambers, ripping open the door to the private sections where the remnants of his grandfather’s mask laid awaiting him.
He crouched, not much unlike a pleading child. “Help me, Grandfather.” he whispered, his eyes shutting and his hand hovering over the mask. “Help me understand.” 
His desperate calls came unanswered, swelling a low broiling anger in his stomach. “I need to know what it is about her.” he demanded. 
Nothing. 
He ripped his eyes open, lip curling in irritation. Why was she in his head? What made her so special to make the Supreme Leader feel like this?
Practically leaping off the ground he turned his back on his grandfather’s mask, making his way to his sleeping quarters as he tugged off his own mask, throwing it with little care across the room.
He sank onto the edge of his bed, his elbows propped on his knees as he buried his face in his hands. His head throbbed and that constant simmering, slow-churning anger seeped through his skin, rolling off of him in waves.
Why her?
He was about to throw his fist into the nearest piece of furniture when something washed over him. Something replaced the meek dullness he felt. 
As he sank himself deeper into the sensation, he allowed himself to feel. Ravenous and fulfilling. 
She’s eating. 
The realization surged over him with complete understanding. He could practically feel himself sigh. 
Good. Compliance. 
He’d kept you for a while now, almost like an experiment. Testing himself, his limits around you. 
He allowed himself to feel how he felt when he was near you. Trying several different approaches— spending too much time with you, staying away from you. 
All he gathered from this was being around you calmed him, it relieved that dull rage that constantly coursed through his system, and when he left you, it’d return. 
In the time he’d kept you captive he’d learned everything he possibly could about you. Who you physically were, where and what you came from. Your lineage, your occupation on Cardota. Every fact he could absorb, he did. 
The information he wanted to know, and still didn’t— which bugged the everliving stars out of him— was why you still made him feel this way.
When he was away from you, he could feel it swelling inside him. He scrutinized himself for the way he just wanted to be in your presence again— the way he craved it. The serenity you seemed to bring.
Kylo lost sleep over you. It was pathetic. 
Every night was the endless cycle of not hearing your thoughts while your mind was at ease, caught up in the bliss and the comfort of sleep. If he focused hard enough he could hear your soft breaths. He wondered what you looked like as you slept… if you slept more pleasantly than him. 
Sleep haunted him, his demons clawed at him when his eyes shut, it was never refreshing. He wondered if you felt refreshed when you’d awaken.
He wondered if you dreamed blissfully, whereas he was cursed with nightmares. Then a thought wafted over him— you were pure.
The only time he managed to fall asleep and stop thinking of you was if he imagined holding you as you slept. 
Pathetic. He reminded himself.
You made him feel unstable yet at peace all at the same time and it drove him insane. 
He’d indulged himself in your company, even if you were begrudging. Under his mask he quirked a smirk, watching as you crossed your arms, looking around the room to anywhere but him. 
You didn’t have to speak, he could hear you nonetheless. Your thoughts. 
“You’re restless.” his modulated hum rang out. His words were direct, but his tone was gentle. 
“How long are you going to keep me here?” you bit back. 
“Where else do you have to go?” he returned.
He cursed his words as soon as he’d uttered them. That indignation, that dull ache of your own rolled off of you and onto him. 
“That wouldn’t be the case if you hadn’t raided my planet and destroyed the Hosnian system.” your tone oozed with bitterness as your hands gripped your arms.
He couldn’t help but chuckle, “You’re going to stay upset about that, are you?” 
You scoffed, “Yes.” 
“Then I regret to inform you you’ll have quite the unpleasant while.” he leaned his head back, his eyes still glued to you. 
“You could always just kill me.” you spit. 
“I’ve already told you that’s not going to happen.” his voice hardened. Your continuous pleas for him to just finish you off were growing tiresome. 
‘He’s a horrible monster in a mask- and he’s insufferable. He keeps me around like some little pet, refusing to let me go or kill me.’ your thoughts reverberated around his own skull. 
His lip quirked upwards again, entertained. 
Pet? You saw yourself as a pet to him? Oh, how delightfully wrong you were. If only you knew how you drew him in— if you only knew of the pull you had on him.
“Insufferable, am I?” he almost cooed. 
“Get out of my head.” you spat. 
Monster in a mask, he thought. Was he a monster? Maybe his actions were ‘monstrous’, but were they not justified? Every decision he’s made had led him to where he is now. 
Oh right… to being tormented by this girl. 
He stood, eyeing you for a moment as you watched him, swallowing down your hopes for his departure. Funny you’re not used to his company by now. 
“Monster in a mask…” he repeated your thoughts back to you, earning a disinterested hum in response. 
“You can’t deny your curiosity.” As he looked at you, you looked at him. His hands seemed to move on their own accord. They found the edges of his mask, and with an eased sweep he pulled it from his head. His eyes fell on you— and your eyes looked into his, unconcealed for the first time. 
He watched your eyes drift over his features, soaking in his appearance. He ignored the way his heart rate picked up. You were quiet, completely thoughtless for a moment, and he couldn’t hold back his smirk. He’d taken you by surprise. 
“I suppose it’s time we met, face to face… after all, you’re not going anywhere any time soon.” His eyes drifted over you, soaking you in as he set his mask on the cot he’d been sitting.
He relished in the soft little hiccup sound you made at hearing his unmodulated voice. How your eyes gently widened and how your heart skipped a beat. 
But as quickly as these appeared they faded. Changed into something else—
Confusion, he finally recognized.
“What do you want with me?” you piped up, making him cock his head in intrigue. “You won’t kill me, you won’t let me go… so what is it you want?” 
A little voice in his head seemed to speak up for him, You, but he quickly stifled its words. 
“I want to know why you have this hold on me.” he spoke truthfully. 
He watched as your forehead crumpled but your eyes remained wide in disbelief. “Hold I have on you!?” you practically squeaked. He nodded, “Yes.” 
You scoffed, which normally he’d have taken offense to, but it oddly piqued his interest. “You’re holding me captive.” you reminded him. 
“Yes, I’m aware of the circumstances.” he clasped his hands behind his back, still not removing his gaze from you, and it pleased him that you didn’t shy away from looking back. 
He looked to the ground for a moment as he took a sweeping step forward, bringing himself closer to you, his eyes falling on you again as you looked up at him from the floor. 
“What is it you’ve inflicted on me?” he asked, utterly serious, and a twinge of annoyance struck him as you let out an incredulous laugh. 
“Why is it that you are all I can think about? That when I’m around you I find myself at ease?” His expression hardened as he spoke, his eyes almost glaring. His desperation for the truth was affecting him. 
There was a beat as you stared at him and he looked back at you. “Tell me.” he ordered.
You scoffed again, “I don’t know what this obsession is you have with me- but I didn’t inflict you with anything.”
Obsession? Surely it wasn’t obsession… right?
He stared at you, his eyes still slightly glaring as he looked at you just as incredulously as you looked at him. 
“Why?” he asked again. 
Your brows furrowed as you shook your head. “I don’t know why you’re in love with me!? Gods you’re insufferable!” you spat.
His brows raised before he let out an almost jeering laugh. “In love with you? I couldn’t be farther from in love with you.” 
You looked at him for a long moment, his gaze locked on yours as you both silently sized each other up. 
“Let me go then.” you finally broke the silence. Your words took him aback, not that he wasn’t expecting them, but they did manage to surprise him. 
“That’s not happening.” he turned away from you, shaking his head. He heard you scoff once more, but he ignored it. Your rising agitation only made the feeling gurgle within him, and he knew his visitation for the day was over. 
He pulled his helmet back on, looking at you for a moment. When you’d turned your head, crossing your arms once more, he tutted softly before exiting your cell. 
He remembered how his mind had reeled as he retired from your cell. 
In love? In love?! 
What did the Supreme Leader need with love?! It was preposterous. First Order sympathizers looked up to him, practically ate out of his palm. He could have the whole galaxy and he would soon enough, so what did he need with love?
The word ‘love’ reverberated around his brain like a blaster shot bouncing around a contained room. 
He didn’t feel love– the idea that he did brought a low boil of anger to his gut. Love was useless to him, how dare you suggest he was in love with you.
Sure, he’d give it to you, maybe he was a little obsessed with you, with the way you made him feel– but him in love with you? No way. He refused to accept it. 
He needed to reach out to his grandfather again, to beg for answers. He needed to know why it felt like you had him in your grip when he was the one with the hold on you. 
Crouched once again on the floor before his grandfather’s mask, his hand hovering above it, he pleaded out. “Please, Grandfather. I need to understand.” 
His desperations came answered, but not in the way he expected– or the way he was ready for. 
He was met with a vision of your eyes on him again, looking into his eyes. He saw you reach out for him and he wanted to cower away, but he just couldn’t seem to do it, and a moment later he found your hand in his before he pulled you tightly to his body. 
He held you for a long moment, and he almost swore he could actually feel you against him, but as soon as he thought he could, you vanished from his grip and he was filled with a feeling of longing and emptiness. 
‘Love’ echoed around his brain again. 
“Fuck.” his eyes shot open and his hand withdrew rapidly from above his grandfather’s mask. He recalled the way he’d met you, the way he felt when he first looked into your eyes. 
The obsession he had for you, the way he wanted to protect you, how he felt at ease in your company. 
He wanted to ravish you, show you things you’d never experience without him. He wanted to watch your eyes light up as he showed you unseen parts of the galaxy… from beside him. 
The draw he had to you… it was… love. 
What was he to do with this realization? Surely you couldn’t love him back— for stars sake he took you captive. You were prisoner on his ship. 
How could he make you see he only did what he did because he was, in fact, in love with you?
That’s when things changed. That’s when Kylo extended an olive branch and after a while, you accepted it. That’s why you were where you were now and Kylo Ren was completely and utterly kriffed. He was Supreme Leader of the entire galaxy… he could have anything— he could get anything, what did he need with you? Why did he need you?
Yet here you were. In his quarters, lying beside him in his bed, so sweet and gently sleeping.
As soon as you willingly moved from your quarters to his, he knew it there was no use arguing how he felt. While he was comforted by your presence, so much so as to almost lure him to sleep, he couldn’t stop himself from peering through his closed eyes at you every time you rolled over, sighed, groaned softly– or worse– moved closer to him. 
You moved restlessly as you slept, and it slightly annoyed Kylo, that’s why he couldn’t seem to stop himself when he threw his arms around you and tugged you against his chest, keeping you pinned against him. But to his surprise, you stilled. And you stayed that way as long as he held you. 
He constantly wracked his brain wondering why you’d meant so much to him. You were a prisoner, you were his captive. And yet without you knowing, you had him wrapped around your finger. Why? What was it about you that drew him into you– and after a while, you into him? 
Regret.
You should hate him, he’d hated himself. Not only for what he’d done, but for what he did to you. He’d taken everything from you and left only him for you to know, so why did you give in?
He remembered that switch in your brain. When you finally stopped fighting him– wanting to escape, being defensive and aggressive– and you gave in. As if you’d accepted that he was your new normal, and you didn’t fight it, in fact, you welcomed it. Why? What changed?
Was it him? He supposed he had been trying to be nicer to you. He granted you your own quarters, he allowed you to have a little more freedom, all the while you were his prisoner.
Maybe it was when he opened up and he talked to you. He told you all about his desires and his aspirations not just for himself, but for the galaxy… and you listened. He liked that you didn’t just accept everything he said, that you were a little combative. That you argued against his means and questioned his motives.
He wasn’t sure why, but you liked listening to him talk, and even more confusing, he liked talking to you.
He couldn’t seem to help himself from telling you anything and everything, even the minute details about his life such as what he ate for breakfast, and what his favorite color was. He liked that you listened, really listened.
You didn’t listen like everyone else who just accepted what he said as fact. You listened and processed what he’d tell you, and you’d respond.
He also liked that you weren’t afraid of him. Not anymore at least, though, he’d argue you never really were. Even the moment he took you on board the Finalizer, you never once showed him you were afraid of him. You were strong. Something else he supposed he liked about you.
He could easily destroy you, and in a way he had, but he didn’t want to, at least not anymore. Something about you made him want to protect you, to care for you. Why?
You thrashed gently in his arms, tearing his attention down to you. When his eyes met yours he found you looking up at him with your tired, but ever so gorgeous eyes. 
“Do you ever sleep?” you hummed half-consciously. “No.” he said mostly jokingly, though his tone was firm and serious. He was relieved when a small smile pulled on your pretty lips anyways.
“I don’t keep you up, do I?” you yawned, shifting in his arms a little. He froze– you were worried about him? His lips parted to speak, to question why you cared, but he couldn’t seem to find the means to ask. 
“No. If anything I sleep better when you’re near.” 
This time you froze– and he scrutinized himself. Why did he say that? Why did he think that was something he should’ve ever admitted?
Time seemed to slow as you looked up at him, and him down at you. Part of him argued to let you go, release you from his hold, but the other half of him begged to pull you closer.
You pulled away from his arms, and he hated the way it felt like his heart sank– how he felt disappointed, but he acted as if it didn’t bother him as he watched you pull yourself up on your arms. He feigned a look of indifference as you looked at him, your emotions so strong he could feel them radiating off of you. 
Confusion, intrigue… want.
Then you did the unthinkable. Your hand gently met his cheek and he had to fight the urge to snatch your hand off and push you away, after all, he didn’t want to scare you, not anymore.
He watched as your eyes fell from his to where your hand laid against his cheek, then they moved to his lips.
Just enough time passed for his heartbeat to quicken and thump against his ribcage before you leaned in and your lips were on his. 
He stilled for a moment, watching, waiting as you took the lead, but he finally allowed himself to kiss you back.
When you pulled away you both eyed each other, like you were silently sizing the other up. “Why did you do that?” he asked, breaking the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.
“To see what you’d do.” you answered as if it was the most obvious answer in the galaxy. When his eye twitched slightly, you giggled, “Well? How do you feel?” you asked, as you pulled your hand away from his cheek.
Hopeless.
Kylo Ren— Supreme Leader of the galaxy felt hopeless.
Hopelessly in love with you. 
You possessed him, you made him feel things that he swore he’d never feel again. He was supposed to be angry, cruel, the embodiment of revenge and power… and yet he was in love with you. 
He wanted to give you everything. He’d pluck every star from the galaxy for you if it meant he’d get to see that smile of yours, to see the way your eyes would sparkle. He needed you. 
He snatched up your face with much more haste than he’d meant, but it didn’t matter. He needed to feel your lips on his again, to feel the feeling of you against him and the way everything felt right when you were near.  And you didn’t fight. 
You let him as he wrapped his free arm around your waist, tugging your body against his as his lips pressed to yours. 
He kissed like he was a drowning man and you were the smallest bit of oxygen that would give him a second wind to keep going. Because that’s how you made him feel. 
Kylo Ren was drowning. Drowning in responsibilities, in expectations of what he needed to do and who he should be, but around you, Kylo Ren could breathe. 
All responsibilities and expectations died away, and he could simply be. 
Your arms tangled around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer as your lips worked in synchronization, each of you battling for the upper hand to kiss with the most passion. To kiss with love. 
As much as it didn’t make sense to him— you did. Everything felt at ease with you, and here and now, he was finally accepting that he didn’t need to fight it. That everything you made him feel wasn’t weakness, but that you gave him an unknown source of strength. 
You were intoxicating. He couldn’t even pinpoint what it was about you that he liked the most. He liked you as a whole. You pulled him in and made him feel safe… like he belonged, something he wasn’t sure he’d ever truly felt.
You were supposed to be his, he was supposed to have you wrapped around his finger, eating out of his hand, but he was so wrong.
You didn’t know it, and he may not be ready to tell you, but he was yours.
Kylo Ren was yours.
862 notes · View notes
strawberry-whorecake · 9 months
Text
just a little update 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪
i first wanted to say thank you for all the love on my fics !! i know i already said thank you in the author’s note of my last fic but i want to say it again because i’m genuinely so glad you’ve been enjoying them. writing is one of my favorite things to do and i literally didn’t think they’d get any traction so the fact you guys have been actually enjoying them means the world to me <3
i do also want to say that posting will be a bit inconsistent, but i don’t want you to think i’m abandoning this page !! i just have annoying adult responsibilities like working and managing life in general, and when i do get free time i am trying to write when i can— it just takes a little while because being burnt out from life in general and forcing myself to write makes me really unhappy with my fics and you guys deserve the best !! all i ask is a little patience on your behalf so i can give you guys the best of the best !!
if you have requests for fics i did open my ask box (i’m not super savvy when it comes to tumblr but i’m learning) so i believe you can submit them there !! i’m happy to write for what you guys want to see so please don’t hesitate !!
again, thank you so much for all the love for my fics, it’s just a fun little hobby for me so seeing that you guys genuinely enjoy what i write it makes me incredibly happy <33
2 notes · View notes
strawberry-whorecake · 9 months
Text
Good Girl | K.R.
Tumblr media
pairing: Kylo Ren x fem!reader
summary: Kylo had something you needed… just like he always did. So you found yourself sneaking around Starkiller Base for the satisfaction of your urges.
word count: 1.9k
warnings: swearing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), PinV sex, praise
a/n: holy shit- can i just say thank you for all the interaction i’ve been getting on my fics-?? i’m genuinely floored, i was just writing and posting these for my own self-indulgence but it means literally so much that you guys have been enjoying them omg. since you enjoyed kylo so much last time heres a small lil smut in means of my appreciation <3
What the fuck were you doing?! 
You rushed down the halls ducking around corners, peering for a sign of any wanderers on Starkiller Base. You were terrified of being caught, but your impulse to sneak out of your quarters and into the Commander’s came strong and suddenly. 
Metallic footprints drew closer in front of you, eliciting a gasp from your throat which you quickly entrapped with the clasp of your hand as you ducked into an unseen corner. The footsteps neared– then faded, finally vanishing as you watched the Stormtrooper disappear from sight. 
That was fucking close… so why were you doing this again?
Your urges got the best of you, and now you were creeping around the base because it was well into the late hours of the night– or arguably the early hours of the morning, and Kylo had something you needed… just like he always did.
You waited around the corner for another couple seconds to make sure no one else would come around, and to your relief the halls were void, so you continued on your journey to the Commander’s chambers.
As you walked you scrutinized yourself, questioning how you’d fallen into the face of this predicament in the first place. You were a meer engineer, assigned to working on ships that flew in and out of the base. 
You recalled your first meeting with Kylo Ren, and how he immediately captivated and terrified you– and he of course knew, and played into. Somehow this thing had bloomed between you two, and you weren’t particularly interested in snuffing out its flame any time soon. 
After a while of stalking around with your guard up to not be caught, you reached his door. 
Glancing over your shoulders for any wanderers, you cursed yourself– no one was permitted in Kylo’s quarters without his direct permission, of course the halls would be void. 
You shook your head and quickly inputted the code to his lock system, listening to the metal doors reluctantly squeal open only seconds later. 
Dipping inside you peered around, his neat and orderly chambers were dark, and your eyes found his bed– found him, sleeping on one side. 
You watched the doors close behind you as you slipped off your shoes, leaving them in the doorway. Slowly you crept through his room, approaching his bed. As you drew nearer you pulled your top over your head before crawling in next to him. 
Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. Kylo was unpredictable– you had no way of knowing if he would be pleased with your appearance, or if he’d Force-throw you out of his chambers. Sure, he’d granted you permission to his quarters, under the premise he was in them, but how would he react to you waking him up?
Swallowing down your nerves, you gently caressed his cheek with your finger, which made him inhale deeply and stir despite still being asleep. 
Taking hold of his cheek you led his lips to yours, kissing him. When his lips met your own his eyes fluttered open slowly. At first his kiss was confused but it rather quickly grew hot and rough. 
Without tearing your mouth from his you gently pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him. He pulled away only for a moment, just to take you in– and he smirked before pulling your face into his and kissing you hungrily. 
His tongue twisted fervidly with yours, hot, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and soft sounds of already growing pleasure leaked from your lips. When he pulled back again, his plush pink lips glistened with the mix of your saliva.
“I missed this.” he growled and warmth developed as you felt him grow hard beneath you. 
His kisses trailed from your lips down your jawline before they landed on your neck, sucking and nibbling at your skin. 
A moan escaped from your throat despite trying to suppress it by clenching your teeth to your lip. You pulled away from him and lowered yourself to his abdomen, kissing his exposed stomach and upper pelvis. 
Your eyes looked up pleadingly as you pulled down his boxers, and he only hummed in response. 
You licked your lips, building up wetness in your mouth as you took him in your hand, gently placing a kiss to his tip. 
Despite barely touching him, you knew how much he missed you by the bead of precum already dripping from him. 
Running your tongue along his base, you then placed him in your mouth, drawing in your cheeks and sucking at his length until you pulled a groan from his throat. 
He instinctively grabbed the back of your head, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, and making you gag lightly on his cock. 
You looked up, watching as he smirked. “Good girl.” he cooed. 
You caressed his skin as you swallowed him. “Fuck…” he let his dark waves crash against his pillow as he threw his head back. His brow furrowed lightly as his eyes fluttered shut. One of his hands still gripped your head while the other folded behind his own head. 
He looked incredible like this, the blinking stars gently illuminating him in a soft glow from the window positioned behind his bed. The muscles in his arms rippling as he let himself enjoy what you had to offer him, the sight of him quickly reminded you of why you risked coming to his quarters in the first place. 
His pleasure made you eager to keep going, and the arousal flooding between your own legs was increasingly difficult to ignore. You couldn’t wait any longer to have him as you slipped off of him and stripped yourself of the rest of your clothing, leaving yourself bare for him. 
You ignored the warmth that flooded to your cheeks as he looked you over, his stature relaxed with his arm still casually placed behind his head. 
You pulled at his boxers, removing them from his legs before disregarding them to the floor with your clothes. Crawling back on top of him you took him once more in your hand as you led him inside you.
Although this was farthest from your first time with Kylo, you would never be prepared for his size. 
Your mouth gaped as he entered you, squirming atop him as you worked to adjust to his size as he split you to the seam. He only chuckled as he watched you, but after a few moments you began riding him, dragging your hips against his. 
He moaned as you lowered yourself further onto him, his cock delving deeper into you. His arms wrapped around your frame and flipped you onto your back. 
He leveled himself up by placing one hand on the bed beside your head as the other gripped harshly at your throat. A soft gasp managed to escape from your slack lips and he loosened his grip– just slightly.
His own impatience took over as he pushed into you, not holding back. You whimpered at the sudden force and reached up for his arm clamped around your neck for something to hold onto. 
He smirked, shaking your hands off of him as he quickly caught them with both of his own and pinned them above your head before kissing you deeply and with need. 
He withdrew himself only to thrust back in, creating a pattern as he did so. His pace quickened as he swapped your pinned wrists to one hand, letting his now free hand find your chest, kneading and toying with your breasts. His thumb flicked at your bud making you mewl out again. 
You wiggled out of his grip, which he let you, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling his body closer to you.
He pounded into you faster, then slower, then harder– all rather quickly. His cock stroked your walls, cockhead prodding against that sweet spot that made your stomach churn in the best possible way. 
“Fuck... Ah- Kylo-” you groaned as you felt him pummeling against your core, tangling your legs around his waist. Your moans only continued to please him, proud of himself at how easily he could make you moan for him. He seized a handful of your hair into his fist and tugged slightly. 
Wrapping your arms around his broad back you pulled him deeper into you, and he didn’t hold back. He rocked his body back and forth with yours, you both synced in sin. 
The only sounds that filled the room were Kylo’s stuttered breaths, your moans, and the obscene sounds of skin slapping skin. 
He grabbed for your throat and pulled you into a steamy kiss, his tongue pushing past your teeth before dancing with yours. 
With every thrust inside you, you could feel yourself growing tighter as your walls clenched together, holding back euphoria. “Sh-shit- Kylo…” you mewled rather pathetically. 
In a hushed tone he growled, “Beg.” 
He fucked deeper into you than you thought was possible by now. “Kylo please I-” your words were cut off by a moan that was pulled from your throat at a particularly hasty thrust. You didn’t know how much longer you could take. 
“I said beg, slut.” he growled again.
He could feel you drawing you in, your walls growing claustrophobic around him, and he knew you were close, so he kept going. 
Quickening his pace, he placed your chin in his hand making you look at him while you pleaded. 
He glared into your eyes, then let his gaze drift to your perfectly parted lips as he mouthed the word “Beg” once more. 
Giving out you finally cried, “Please! Let me cum, Kylo-!” your mouth gaped, words straining out. Your eyes were barely open but remained locked on his. 
Kylo let his tongue dart past his own slightly parted lips, wetting them as he stared down at you, desperate and begging. 
He knew you didn’t have long before you had reached your limit, whether he wanted to deprive you of that or not, so he let you have it. 
“Good girl.” He hunched over so his lips just barely touched your ear as he whispered, “Now cum for me.” 
He himself didn’t have much longer with the way your velveteen walls stroked him with every buck of his hips. His pace was frantic as he slammed into you, watching the way your brows knit and you panted and moaned past your lips. 
His lips trailed down your neck, leaving bites and kisses as he made his way to your collarbone– the cherry on top. You clung to him as you tightened around him, reaching your high in a pathetic array of moans. 
Your vision faded out and shockwaves of electricity bolted through your nerves as you came around him, your walls milking him deliciously. He let out a groan of his own as his head lolled forward and he gripped your hips, pulling you down onto his cock. 
With a final groan you felt your cunt flood with warmth as he came inside you, still driving his hips into yours. 
His movements slowed, then stilled, and he pulled out of you with a grunt before laying down beside you. He pulled you close and coddled you through your finish. Your knees were lightly trembling which brought a smile to his face.
You buried your face into his chest as he let his fingers caress your skin before planting a kiss on your forehead, making your heart thump against your ribcage.
“Such a good girl.” he purred before placing a gentle kiss on your lips, “My good girl.” 
Your face grew hot. The tone of his voice and his words alone made your heart skip a beat. 
You were Commander Ren’s good girl.
383 notes · View notes
strawberry-whorecake · 9 months
Text
I Always Get What I Want | K.R.
Tumblr media
pairing: Kylo Ren x fem!reader
summary: You find yourself in the clutches of Kylo Ren, how and why you were unsure, but you were even more unsure of your attraction to him. He saw your thoughts, he knew how you felt, and consequently he knew how he needed to require information from you.
word count: 3.6k
warnings: swearing, dirty talk, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, (slight) dubcon, fingering, cum eating, unprotected sex, PinV sex, inappropriate use of the force, Kylo's an asshole
A/N: kylo was the first adam character i ever fell for so this felt oddly healing to write lmao
Your eyes fluttered fluttered open but everything was blurry. As your vision came into focus the throbbing pain in your skull became more apparent. Only then did you realize you had no idea where you were.
Your arms tugged to rub your eyes, soothe your burning headache— but your arms were confined. Letting out a confused murmur you looked around, trying to figure out where you were.
“Ah, you’re awake.” The metallic and vaguely inhuman voice made your blood turn cold. You immediately knew the source of the voice.
That’s right… you were on Takodana fighting with the Resistance before everything went dark.
Despite the thick lump of nerves that formed in your throat, you spoke. “Where am I?”
He had the nerve to laugh, regardless it was more of a huff of a laugh, but it was still audible even over the synthesizer of his mask.
“You’re on my ship.” His voice had a snap to it, one that spoke wordlessly that he wasn’t interested in playing polite greeting games.
But his response only made the hair on your neck stand straight up— what in stars sake could he possibly want with you to such an extreme he’d capture you and load you onto his ship?!
You wracked your brain recalling every event moment for moment as it passed, but it was incredibly difficult as your head throbbed, making it seem almost impossible to recount events clearly.
Han Solo. Takodana. Fighting Stormtroopers. The metallic hiss of his synthesizer… then blackness. An all encompassing blackness.
Another huff of a laugh ripped you from your thoughts— and you could’ve sworn the thrumming in your head seemed to die down.
“For the Resistance, you’re not very bright.”
Your arms pulled against the restraints, wriggling in your chair as you tried to face your captor— the absolute vile creature that was Kylo Ren.
As if he knew you wanted to face him, he effortlessly glided around the edge of your confining seat.
He was large, dark— and not just in dressing but in energy too. His leather cladden hands were interlocked behind his back. His cold and empty mask staring right in your direction, you could feel his eyes on you though you could not see them.
“Why am I here?” you spat with a sudden haste. You were truthfully less concerned with your own predicament than you were of your fellow fighters— your friends.
“Why do you think you’re here?” his tone dripped with a sticky sweetness that made your stomach roll with annoyance. He was toying with you.
He grazed around your chair again, looking away from your direction as he strolled in front of you. “There’s a droid working for your… friends… I need it’s location and you’re going to give it to me.”
Your brows furrowed, “I’m not giving you anything.” His mask snapped back in your direction. “No?”
For not being able to see his own face, this was the most intense staredown you’d ever been in.
“We’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?”
Before you had a moment to think, a leather hand outstretched and the throbbing of your head grew the strongest it’d been. It drew a tear from your eye as you strained and hissed through your teeth trying to fight the pressure that made your skull feel like it was going to explode.
You despised this guy. He was weak, and even worse he was a coward… hiding behind a mask.
Almost with a shudder his hand withdrew and the pain ceased though a pounding lingered. “I see you think so highly of me.”
“What does it matter what I think of you?” You spat again, a soft pant to your words as you recovered from the pain.
His head cocked to the side as he looked at you, stars, how you’d love to punch him in the face.
He raised his hands and you winced, readying yourself for another wave of pain but you were instead met with a whooshing hiss that made your eyes shoot up to find the source.
How you wish you hadn’t looked up.
Kylo Ren had pulled off his helmet and rather glamorously shook his head causing his raven waves to bounce free of the metal enclosure from which they were previously held.
Another lump formed in your throat as you looked over him. He had big, almost puppy dog-ish brown eyes. His nose was large and perfectly angled. His lips were plush and pink. The skin of his face was littered with freckles and beauty marks that envied a map of stars in the galaxy.
Being so momentarily enraptured by his appearance you’d failed to notice the drumming in your brain growing larger. “I’m flattered.” he hummed with that same sticky sweet tone.
You cursed yourself under your breath. He was Han and Leia’s son… of course he would be captivating… if only he hadn’t captivated you, literally and figuratively.
He was still in your head and his lip quirked upward in disapproval of your thoughts about his parents.
“Where is the droid?” he asked again.
This was pointless— “You know where the droid is, you were on Takodana, were you not?” you hissed. “What happened to my friends?”
His eyes narrowed briefly as he considered you. “Perhaps you’ll be pleased to learn I have no idea.”
Somehow that made you feel better and simultaneously worse. If he didn’t know they were dead, then they had to be alright, but that still only posed the question why you were here.
“Are you finished playing stupid now? I know you’ve seen the map… you’d somehow convinced the droid to show it to you.” His eyes narrowed again, the corner of his right eye twitched briefly. “You headed off Han Solo on Leia’s orders… I know everything.”
You wanted to scream in frustration, scream at him for being in your head, but all you could do was bite your tongue.
Because worst of all… he knew. He knew your thoughts, yes, but he knew how frustrated your thoughts became the longer you looked at him.
He took a few steps forward, closing in any respectable distance as he drew nearer to you, his head cocking again, looking at you. “I need to see that map… and I will see it by all means necessary.”
You wanted to cross your arms, put up all your defenses but this stupid chair held you pinned and vulnerable to him.
“You won’t get that map from me.” you spat.
His lip quirked up again, this time it was sly, almost entertained. “We’ll see.”
His hand outstretched again, the leather of his gloves strained against the stretch of his fingers as he reached further into your head.
You lurched out of the chair, fighting against it with every ounce of strength you had— and only when your mind flashed the image of his face again did the throbbing cease once more.
“Oh… I see.” You flopped weak and limp like a rag doll, only the restraints holding you up. You cursed under your breath for your mind’s betrayal against your senses.
Your eyelids fluttered weakly as you looked up at him through your lashes. You wanted to look away from him, in fact you begged that your body would react on its own, but it didn’t.
“I know just how to deal with you… it’s so clear to me now.”
Your brows gently knit, not knowing where he was going, before his fingers gently twitched and you shot straight back against the chair with a less than gentle bang as your head hit the metal support.
You couldn’t stop the groan that leeched out from your throat before your eyes caught him again, another sly smirk on his face.
He was still exceedingly close and you hated the way your stomach flipped as his eyes studied you. His hand outstretched again and with half the thought he was going to reach into your mind you pinched your eyes shut… but the thrumming didn’t start, and instead you felt fingers pinch against your chin.
Your eyes shot open wide, meeting his face as he held your gaze to look at him. “Strange…” he hummed. You tried to wiggle out of his grip, but it was firm, and the restraints weren’t helping your predicament… you had no choice but to sit helplessly and look at him.
You watched as his eyes drifted over your features before gliding down your neck— ever so slowly, until they glanced at your body. If you weren’t looking right at him, you would’ve missed it because only a beat later his eyes were right back on yours.
“Oh don’t worry… I can feel it.”
You bit back the whine that bubbled in your throat. He kept his grip on your chin, holding your gaze to his as you felt something caress the side of your neck making you jolt. His hand hadn’t moved yet it was unmistakable something was touching you. His smirk pulled again as he ran his leather cladden thumb against your cheek.
“You’ll learn… I always get what I want.” his words came out almost in a cooing fashion.
The caress on your neck drifted lower, now moving down your side. Your fists clenched, and Kylo’s gaze flicked toward them before looking to your eyes again.
“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” he cooed again, a slight jeer in his tone. Your brows knit as you tried to rip your face away– not wanting him to stop, but not wanting to look at him either.
Only a moment too late did you remember the Force… that was the ghostly pressure that was sweeping down your hip, trailing around your thigh, inching closer and closer to your sex. This time as much as you hated it, you couldn’t stop the whimper.
You couldn’t decide what you hated more, Kylo’s entertained smirk, or the fact that your body betrayed you and you dripped with arousal over what he was doing to you.
The pressure caressed your slit, making you gasp and jolt, Kylo’s eyes glued on you the entire time. He had you just where he wanted you, the two of you both knew it. “Show me the map.” he purred.
You whined, shaking your head. You knew better than to speak, knowing your voice would betray you.
“Very well then.” Without warning, what felt like the pressure of two fingers slid inside you and you mewled pathetically, Kylo still watching you squirm. The pressure withdrew before reentering you, forming a pattern.
You wriggled in your seat and fought against Kylo’s grip, it was a feeling you were not familiar with… which again, Kylo knew. His own brows furrowed softly as he raised his hand, “You’ve never been touched like this?” he hummed. You could only whimper, but the pressure in your head appeared again– making it clear this would be his form of communication with you.
Kylo sucked his teeth and looked at you almost as if disappointed. “Then I suppose this is an honor.” his smirk curled back on his lips again. He was still in your head, still teasing your cheek with his thumb.
A third pressure applied around your clit, flicking over it and making you gasp again, trying to escape from his grasp. He had an expression of sick delight as he watched you fight against his grip on your face, watching as you writhed under the pressure of the Force.
You were forced to look into those big brown eyes, forced to watch as he studied your every movement– seeing what you reacted to the most. Your gaze drifted to his hand that was still raised– still reaching into your head. All of this being so completely new to you, being touched for the first time, you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what he himself would feel like, and not the ghostly pressure.
As soon as you thought it you immediately cursed yourself, as Kylo’s smirk pulled into what was arguably a smile. “Filthy little thing, aren’t you?” he purred.
“Well, as you wish.” The throbbing in your head ceased as he lowered both his outstretched arm, and dropped your face.
The pressure around your clit and inside of you seemed to vanish into thin air, and he released your chin. Your body fought with the feeling of relief that it was gone, but also with the slight remorse you felt missing it.
Kylo stood from your side, coming around to the front of your chair. His eyes studied your body as he pulled himself in closer, his leather covered hand running down your chest and your abdomen before dipping beneath the waistband of your pants. The feeling made you gasp again. The leather was smooth and textured in a way that was entirely different from the pressure of the Force.
His fingers teased your cunt, sliding through your slit as his eyes looked into yours and he collected your slick on his gloves. He watched intensely as he plunged two fingers inside you. Your brows knit and you fought the urge to cry out.
His large hands felt even bigger with the leather of his glove, and the sensation was entirely new. His thumb caught on your clit as he rubbed circles against your nub.
“You wanna show me the map yet?” he asked, curling his fingers inside of you and making you moan out. You pinched your eyes shut, not wanting to look at him– you couldn’t bear to look at him, at the way he studied your expression so heavily as he fucked you on his fingers. Leather exploring territories of you that have never been crossed before.
You only opened your eyes when that caressing pressure glided across your throat before squeezing at the sides.
He hummed, “That’s better. I want to see those eyes.” You still wanted to hit him, to curse at him, he was still toying with you but in an even more cruel way.
He worked his fingers in and out of you, thrusting and curling them. His eyes flicked down to his hand, watching as it explored your cunt.
When you whimpered out a cry, he groaned, making you clench around his fingers. His eyes flickered back up to yours. “Oh?” he purred. He sucked his teeth softly, “Those little sounds you make…” he huffed softly.
Your eyes widened briefly as his other hand reached down his own torso, rubbing his hand against himself. He saw you watch, and his lip curled into another smirk as he hummed. His fingers curled inside you again, and you couldn’t help but moan out.
He withdrew his hand from you, looking away from your face as he studied the slick of your arousal coating his gloved fingers. His eyes met yours as he raised the glove to his plush lips, his tongue darting between his fingers and lapping it up, the sight making you whine again and clench around nothing. He drew his fingers into his mouth, sucking them off before removing them with a pop as he looked over you.
“Maybe I’ll have to fuck the map out of you… what do you think of that?” he cooed, making you whimper again.
He leaned over you again, his fingers reaching for your restraints. “If you try anything stupid, you won’t like the consequences, understood?” His gaze on you was so intimidating you couldn’t help but nod.
He unclasped your wrists and you didn’t waste a moment to rub them, sore and strained as they were from the tightness in which they were being held.
You didn’t get another moment to soothe your wrists as you were being pulled to your feet and turned around. Kylo pressed his hips into your backside as you bit harshly on your lip to stop the moan that bubbled in your throat. He grabbed hold of the waistband of your pants and with a swift tug he pulled them off of you, embarrassment ripping through your body at your exposure.
His leather hand groped your ass, rubbing against your skin as he pressed his hips against your backside again, making the whine pull from your throat.
Kylo tutted, “How would the Resistance feel if they saw you now?” You didn’t even have time to stop the pathetic whimper that escaped you following his words, and Kylo chuckled darkly.
You heard rustling behind you and as much as you wanted to look over your shoulder, you felt frozen. “Arms on the chair.” he ordered, and you unfortunately obeyed.
You gasped as he slid his cock between your folds, your body jolting slightly at the sensation, before a pressure applied to all your limbs and you were genuinely frozen to the spot.
You prickled with annoyance as the asshole used the Force to hold you still, but you didn’t have long to dwell on it as he prodded at your entrance and you sucked in a great breath.
Kylo sunk into you and you let out a cry as your insides were bittersweetly painful. It was a hot searing pain that was oddly intoxicating. You were suddenly thankful for the Force holding you steady, because you would’ve collapsed upon the feeling— he was big.
His hands found your waist, continuing to sheathe himself inside of you until his hips were flush with your ass, and he groaned as he bottomed out.
“Shit- you’re tight…” he huffed. It didn’t help that you clamped around him and he groaned again.
He pulled out of you slightly, drawing another cry from your throat before he sank back in.
After a few moments of slow thrusts, he picked up pace, pulling you back by the hips onto him. You moaned out as he fucked into you, the feeling making your head spin.
The only sounds in the room were skin hitting skin, your whines, and Kylo’s deep groans— you begged the stars that nobody could hear you.
His cock fucked you incredibly. He filled you up so well and prodded a certain spot inside you that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your system.
Kylo hummed, “You like this don’t you? Filthy whore… being fucked by my cock.” he hissed through his teeth as he issued a particularly painful thrust.
Two sensations added to your pleasure, the ghostly pressure was suddenly on your clit again, but was also squeezing at the sides of your throat, stifling another cry.
“I’m gonna make you cum on my cock like the little Resistance slut you are.” he hissed as his hips slammed against yours.
All you could do was offer more strangled moans as his pace grew frantic, his hands squeezing harshly on your hips as the pressure on your clit also quickened.
An unfamiliar knot grew in your core and every buck of his hips made it grow tighter. “K-Kylo-“ you whimpered, earning a husky groan in response.
The grip on your throat strengthened and you strangled out a gasp. “Filthy- fuck- filthy Resistance scum.” Kylo cursed.
He split you open with his ravenous and intense thrusts, he was anything but gentle. “You’re gonna cum when I tell you to- you understand?”
You squeaked out another response as the Force gripped the sides of your throat again.
Kylo was cursing and panting behind you, his movements rough and fervid as you poured out more cries and moans that managed to slip past the grip on your throat.
Tears stung at your eyes as the knot in your stomach was growing impossibly tighter, you weren’t sure what was happening but you had a feeling you weren’t going to last much longer.
You choked out his name again and he hissed between his teeth. “Cum like the slut you are.”
His hips buckled into yours and the pressure on your clit seemed to intensify, and before you knew it your vision blurred as the knot burst and your cunt clenched down around him— white hot pleasure flooding your senses.
You choked out a cry, pinching your eyes shut and the pressure holding your body still ceased, causing your limbs to tremble.
You had barely enough time to process your own release before Kylo uttered more curses and your cunt flooded with warmth, his hips still snapping against yours as your walls clenched, milking him to his end.
As his movements stilled he pulled out of you, removing his hands and almost making you collapse against the chair, but you fought to hold yourself up.
You glanced over your shoulder, watching as he pulled up his own pants and tucked himself back inside them before he caught your eye.
You barely had a moment before his hand outstretched and your head pounded, making you cry out.
Kylo grunted as your orgasm thankfully blurred your thoughts. His hands harshly tugged your pants back up and he turned you and roughly shoved you back into the chair.
As soon as you tried to put up a fight the Force seized your limbs and you went slack. He hastily buckled the restraints around your arms again.
“You’re horrible!” you spat at him.
Kylo only smirked, “You liked it.”
He stood to his full height, picking up his helmet and quickly replaced it over his head. “Don’t you worry, I will get that map from you… until then, I think I’ll be keeping you around.”
You cursed at him, making a metallic chuckle bounce off the walls of the interrogation room before doors screeched open and heavy footprints echoed out of the room.
Stars you hated Kylo Ren.
944 notes · View notes
strawberry-whorecake · 9 months
Text
It Started With A Book | C.B.
Tumblr media
pairing: Charlie Barber x fem!reader
summary: You were Henry’s babysitter. He employed you to watch his son. You were a pretty little thing, and he should’ve known better than to pursue you… but damn could he just not help himself.
word count: 6.7k
warnings: swearing, age gap (reader is of age), dirty talk, praise, innocence kink, size kink, breeding kink (kind of??), PinV sex, unprotected sex, fingering, mentions of the book ‘Lolita’
A/N: the ‘Henry’s babysitter’ thing has been done before so full credit to everyone else who’s written one for the inspo !! i let my daddy issues run rampant with this one whoops
Charlie had known you since you were sixteen. He hired you for the first time when he was still with Nicole, before the entirely messy divorce had unfolded. 
You were bright eyed and eager to please, which he liked. He was even more gratified when Henry took an immediate liking to you, especially since Henry didn’t click with many others.
He adored the way that you adored Henry, how you indulged to him one time that you saw the job more like hanging out with a friend; that you didn’t see Henry as an obligation, but as someone you enjoyed being around.
He was especially thankful that following the divorce you still didn’t seem to mind in the slightest to keep babysitting for him when he had obligations he simply couldn’t get out of; or in simpler terms— him not wanting to bring Henry to the theater and keep him up past his bedtime. 
Charlie cursed himself for the way he took more notice of you the moment you turned eighteen— the way you interacted with Henry, the way your lashes would flutter when you wished him goodnight before you left, the way your soft lips would curl into a gentle smile when he’d walk in the door. 
He scrutinized the way he could recall every flick of color in your irises. The way your skin looked soft and supple. He damned the innocent air that surrounded you, the one he so desperately wanted to defile and tear into with his teeth. 
He knew it was wrong, and he hated himself for it. But goddamn could he not help himself when he got sight of you. 
He looked forward to the private moments when Henry was fast asleep that you two would share a small and admittedly polite conversation, typically about the books you were reading before he would unfortunately wish you goodnight and safe travels home. 
He cherished those moments because while you’d ramble on about everything you and Henry had done in the evening, he’d get to stare into your eyes— look over your gorgeous features— and if he was feeling particularly daring and depraved, sneak a glance down your body. 
Tonight was no exception. It was a little after ten pm when he pulled open the door. He watched as you perked up at his arrival and he selfishly relished in the attention.
“Hi, Charlie. How was everything at the theater?” you spoke in a hushed voice, same as you did every night. He watched as you shut the book in your hands, placing it in your lap as he pulled off his coat and set down his case. 
“Oh, you know…” he said with an airy chuckle, allowing his eyes to look over you again as they did when you first arrived earlier this evening. He looked forward to looking at you more so when he’d arrive home, in the privacy of just you and him.
“Henry’s asleep?” he asked, eyes looking over your chosen outfit. The shirt you wore from a band that he without a doubt believed you’d barely knew of their greatness as they came before your time. That pleated tennis skirt that stopped just at the beginning of your thighs. His eyes wandered farther, down to the ankles of your socks and that pair of utterly adorable mary janes.
You nodded curtly, and he watched those lips of yours pull up into the corners. “He had dinner- all he wanted was mac and cheese, so I gave in." you giggled sweetly, "Then we played board games for a while before he went to bed at eight, like you asked.”
‘Good girl’ had almost burst from his lips, but he quickly stifled it with a gentle clearing of his throat. “Perfect. What is it this time?” he nodded toward the book in your lap. You picked it up, outstretching it towards him. “It’s uh, Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, are you familiar?” 
Charlie hummed as he turned the book over in his hands, he noticed the way your eyes followed his movements. “I am actually. Quite a controversial novel, but I’ll admit the writing is fantastic.” 
You nodded again, “I couldn’t agree more. It’s written beautifully considering…" Your gentle chuckle filled the room with such an air of purity, he couldn’t help but crack a soft smile as he handed you back the book.
He watched as you stood, smoothing out the fabric of your skirt— his sign the night was ending… tonight, he couldn’t let that happen. He held up a thick finger, “Hold that thought, will you?” 
He took notice to the confused look in your wide eyes, but you nodded once more, and with the okay he slipped into his bedroom momentarily, running his fingers along his vast collection of books until he found what he was looking for. 
Returning a moment later with a haste to his steps as he couldn’t wait to be facing you once more, he held out the book in your direction. “Here, this is for you.”
He watched your eyes look curiously to the book in his hand before you took it in both of yours. He watched as your eyes wandered the cover of his copy of Lolita, your lashes fluttered in astonishment and disbelief before those eyes of yours met his. “Charlie… you can’t be serious…” 
He chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’m partial to hardcovers myself,” he used a thick finger to tap the book now in your hands. “This is a first edition print, but it’s still in mint condition.” 
His words made your fingers loosen slightly on your grip, your eyes widening a bit more. “Charlie…”
He shook his head, “No, no, take it. I want you to have it.” 
Your brows knit lightly as you looked at him, trying to find any ounce that he wasn’t serious— but oh, was he. Just the idea of your small, nimble, perfectly manicured little fingers caressing the pages before you’d turn to the next one made him more than sure of what he was doing. He loved your hands, and how little they were in comparison to his— but then again, everything about him was huge in comparison to you. 
“I’m going to give you a hug for this, that’s your warning.” you giggled, making him smile again. His eyes followed you as you turned to carefully place the book on the couch before you turned to him again, practically colliding with him as your arms did their best to wrap around his broad frame. 
He easily entangled his arms around you, it only took one of his arms to encompass you, but he indulged himself in wrapping them both around your back, gently rubbing it with his hand. 
He felt you sigh softly, felt the rise and fall of your chest against him as his hands slowly tangled into your hair, playing with it around his fingers. 
You looked up at him— you looked like an angel. Your eyes wide, blinking softly as you looked up at him. Your cheeks tinged with color. 
His heart kicked up speed, he could feel his own cheeks growing pink with fluster. His hand trailed from your back, using his knuckles to caress their way up to your cheek until he took your face against his palm. You were utterly still under his touch as he drew you in closer— his longing to feel you against him was unbearable... 
“Would you maybe… let me kiss you?” Your breath hitched in your throat, your chest stuttering slightly in response as he held your gaze to be locked in on his. Your perfect lips parted, but they made no sound. His inquiry had rendered you speechless, forcing you to nod in response. 
He felt as his lips curled up into a smile, unable to stop himself. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek, urging your neck to crane further upward to meet his height as he leaned in, watching as your eyelids fluttered shut. He pressed his lips against your plush and plump awaiting lips. 
He could feel your heartbeat against his own body, and for a moment he couldn’t discern whose heart was beating faster with the thumping of his own heart ringing in his ears. 
He felt your arms snake around his body and press flat against his chest, he couldn’t help but lean into your touch. The feeling of your hands on him was like pure bliss— a sin he’d so often dreamt about. He couldn’t stop himself from letting his hand fall from your face as his arms encircled you, finding their way to the backs of your thighs, feeling just how plush and smooth the skin of your legs were against the pad of his fingers as he pulled you closer to him. He let his thumbs caress your flesh. 
He also couldn’t stop the gentle groan of pleasure that pulled from his lips. You were pure ecstasy to him. Your body against his, the gentility of your lips, the sweet and mild smell of your shampoo– all of it overwhelmed his senses and drew him into you, if he had half a mind he’d admit that all of this grew a kindling flame of obsession for you. 
Now that he was in, he was all in. All his cards in your basket. Previously he just loved the small things about you but now he felt he had a deeper knowledge of you that dove beyond the surface, and he was drowning in you.
He pulled away just slightly, his lips ghosting over yours not wanting to be apart from them for too long. “You taste so sweet.” he purred before diving back against your lips, catching your bottom between his teeth as he tugged at it gently. When you whimpered at his actions he felt like his brain was going into overdrive. He was dizzy, his head full of just you and he couldn’t get enough of it. 
Your voice was soft, slightly embarrassed, and stuttered as you spoke. “Ch-Charlie… I’ve wanted to kiss you for quite some time now.” 
He hummed at your words, fingers teasing shapes into the flesh on the back of your thighs, making your bottom lip quiver as he looked you over. He had you eating out of his palm and that’s exactly where he wanted you. He saw the embarrassment flicker through your eyes at your own admission and he pulled you impossibly closer again– if you were any further against his body you’d be inside his bones, and he wasn’t sure that he minded that idea all that much. Those perfect fingers of yours trailed up and down his chest pulling a deep sigh from within it. 
He buried his lips against your neck, tasting how sweet and soft and warm you were and he couldn’t help but imagine how you’d taste from between your thighs. He purred your name, “Jump…” he instructed. 
He saw the slight confusion flood over your expression, and he pinched at the back of your thighs again. To his relief, you obliged. Your arms tangled around his neck and with a leap he quickly grabbed hold of your waist as your legs wrapped around his hips.
It seemed you couldn’t control yourself just as he, and your lips immediately found his as he walked you backward before pinning you between him and the wall. “You’re such a tease, you know that?” he hummed against your lips, his cock twitching in his slacks as you whimpered again. 
“J-Just don’t drop me, will you?” you piped up, a hint of nervousness in your tone and he chuckled darkly. “I would never, I’ve got you.” he assured, pushing you against the wall with his hips as his hands gripped your sides. His lips crashed into yours with intense fervor, tracing his tongue along your bottom lip before prodding his tongue into your mouth. You tasted like candy– so incredibly sweet it almost made his teeth ache but he couldn’t get enough. 
His fingers teased the hem of your shirt, feeling the fabric of your top against his skin. “Can I take this off?” his tone was as polite as he could manage, but there was a hint of order to it, like it wasn’t truly an inquiry but a warning that he was going to remove it anyway. His lips found your neck again and he was pleased when he felt you nod against him, adorable little whines and mewls gurgled in your throat in desperation. “Arms up, sweet girl.” he hummed. 
You didn’t seem to completely trust him to not drop you as you nervously lifted your arms— but just barely. But drop you, he would absolutely not. He dug his hips into yours, forcing a gentle groan to lurch past his lips as his imprisoned cock pressed against your concealed core. The action made your arms rise up as you gasped softly and he wasted no time to tug your shirt over your head. 
He pulled back a moment to admire you– your neck, your collar bones, the bulge of flesh that made up your ever-so-perfect and supple breasts and how they bubbled over the white and lacy confining fabric of your bra. 
His fingers trailed up your abdomen, feeling the heat radiating off your skin and onto the pads of his fingers and wandered farther, finding their way to the small pink rose embellishment in the center of your breasts. He flicked it gently, chuckling to himself as even your under layers held a breath of innocence.
He couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering as he compared you to the little pink rose, so small, soft and innocent— it was a simple rendition of how he saw you.
His attention was drawn back to your fingers pulling needily at his own top, fingering the buttons of his dress shirt. “Want me to take this off, pretty?” He watched as your teeth bit down on the plush of your lip and you nodded. 
He’d never known his fingers to work so fast, grazing from one button to the next with incredible ease as he worked up to the very top button. He couldn’t control his excitement as you assisted him in pulling the top off his arms. He watched as your eyes roamed across him, taking in the rise and fall of his broad chest. One of your arms fell from the grip around his neck, tracing down his pecs. 
He held onto your hips, fingers gently gripping at your flesh as he resisted every urge to dig his fingers in, bruise you beneath his touch. You were soft, too pure for that– but he desired with every ounce of himself to taint you.
His lips found your neck again, and he teased his tongue along your skin, before placing open mouthed kisses further down your neck, finding finality against your collar bones. He could feel your heart thumping wildly in your chest against his chin. “Charlie…” you whimpered.
God– he loved the sound of his name off your lips. It made his groin ache, longing to be buried deep in your cunt, begging to hear how it would sound as you screamed it, trembling around him. 
Your hips shifted beneath his hands as more whimpers fell from your lips. You grinded your core against his hardness in a desperate attempt for friction, drawing a groan from his throat. “You want something, little girl?” 
You whined in embarrassment again, your head finding its way to the crook of his neck as your arms tangled around it once more, holding yourself steady. He chuckled again, diving his hands between your bodies and dipped his thick fingers beneath the waistband of that oh-so incredibly short skirt you wore this evening. Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers teased your clothed core. “This what you want? You need attention here?” 
Your pathetic mewl only made his cock twitch again— christ, was he impatient. But you were an angel, he intended on treating you like such... luring you in gently before truly defiling you. 
Your hips bucked against his hand, and his lip curled into a smirk again. He slid his fingers over your clothed slit again. “I’m gonna need to hear your words, sweet girl.” The pet name drove you crazy– he knew so from the way the heartbeat between your legs pounded against his awaiting fingers.
“P-Please…” you pleaded pathetically. He hummed again, “Of course, pretty.” His fingers pulled your panties aside and he finally achieved one of his deepest desires– getting to touch you between those pretty little thighs. You whimpered against his skin, tightening your arms ever so slightly around his neck as his fingers barely even touched you. 
He slid his fingers between your slit, gathering your wetness on the length of his fingers, and he teasingly sucked his teeth. “For such a good girl you’re so wet…” he purred, pressing his cheek against your forehead. The heat of your face burned in the crook of his neck and you mewled. It was so easy to fluster you. 
He stroked his fingers through your core a few times, letting them caress your sensitive nub every now and again to earn more whines of desperation out of you before his fingertip teased your entrance. “Mmm… I’m gonna make you feel so good, little girl.” You whimpered pathetically once more and he couldn’t stop himself from smirking.
He took his longest finger and slowly pushed it inside of you, feeling the way your velvet walls sucked him deeper and clenched around him. You felt like a glimpse of heaven, and he longed to bury his dick inside of you instead, but you were incredibly tight only around one finger. 
He teasingly sucked his teeth again. “Now, how am I ever going to fit my cock inside your perfect little pussy, hmm? I might split you in half.” His words made you clench around his finger, and you dragged your hips again. He took the hint, withdrawing his finger before prodding it back inside of you, earning a soft and stuttered sigh out of you. 
He let his eyes flutter shut as he rested his head against yours, fucking into you with his middle finger until he thought you were ready, then he eased his ring finger inside you, curling his hand and dragging his fingers as he seemed to pet you from the inside. 
He hummed in content at the way you immediately took him in, listening to the soft whimpers that bubbled in your throat as his fingers stroked you. He cupped his hand slightly, catching your clit with his thumb which he wasted no time to rub small circles against. He smirked as your hands gripped tighter around his neck. 
Your hips gently rocked against his hand as he held you steady between him and the wall, making sure you weren’t going anywhere. Your walls seemed to suck him in deeper, desperate for his intrusive fingers. 
Just on his fingers you felt like a dream– warm, velvety, slick. He adored using his fingertips to explore every centimeter of your walls, poking and prodding every ounce of you he could find as he curled his fingers inside you.
His head pulled away from the top of your own and he cocked his head to bury his lips against your neck, needing to taste you again as you softly mewled at how his hands worked inside and against you. 
His tongue lapped at your skin before he gently sucked on your flesh, his teeth catching before he bit down earning a shocked gasp from you. He couldn’t help but chuckle. He felt like he was biting down into the soft and delicate flesh of a peach. He withdrew himself before grazing his teeth along another spot on your neck, biting down once again. He was gentle, like he made himself promise to be… but every soft gasp you made made him want to bite harder and harder. 
Every time he nibbled on your neck you clenched around his fingers and he couldn’t stop himself from working them faster— your sweet, kittenish sounds growing more incessant. 
When your breath hitched in your throat and you let out a particularly strained whine, his fingers seemed to act on their own accord, picking up more pace inside of you. “You gonna cum on my fingers, pretty girl?” 
You held tighter around his neck, burying your face deeper into his skin as you nodded feebly, more strained whines escaping from your throat. His thumb drew tighter, more meticulous circles around your clit. “Look at me, sweet girl…” 
This time your whine was in defiance, not wanting to draw your head away from the crook of his neck. “Don’t make me ask you again.” he warned. 
When you withdrew from his neck, he swore he’d died and was facing the great beyond. Your brows were knit perfectly in pleasure, your eyes barely open; drunk on the bliss he was providing you. Your lips were parted, soft pants leaking from between them as your chin trembled slightly. “Fuck... you’re gorgeous.” he groaned looking you over. Your expression was motivation enough for him to push you over the edge, and it didn’t take long with the calculated movements of his fingers for you to crumble in his hands. 
Your lips fell into a perfect little ‘o’ as your eyes rolled back before your lashes fluttered shut. Your walls constricted and stroked his fingers as your cunt flooded with warmth. He quickly buried his lips against yours, swallowing down the cries of your rapture to keep you quiet. As much as he wanted nothing more than to hear that sweet melodious pitch of your moans, he knew better than to risk being overheard. 
He drew a few more gentle circles over your clit as he worked you through your release before your eyes opened again and found their way to his. A sloppy smile tugged gently at the corner of your lips and he withdrew his hand.
“Open that pretty mouth.” he ordered, and you obeyed instantly. He plunged his thick, slick coated fingers against your tongue. “Suck.” 
You mewled pathetically as you followed instructions. He groaned as your tongue slid between his fingers, lapping up every ounce of your release. Your cheeks dented divinely as you sucked on his digits. 
He pulled his fingers from your mouth with a pop and quickly brought them to his own mouth, tasting your sweetness and saliva on his own tongue. He hummed against his fingers, the sensation making his cock twitch again and he couldn’t deprave himself any longer of the need to slide himself inside you. 
“Think you can take me now, sweet girl?” he purred, dragging his thumb along your bottom lip. When you nodded he sucked his teeth again, “Use your words.” 
You whined pathetically before you spoke, “P-Please, Charlie.” His lips pulled into a smirk at your obedience. “Such a good girl you are.” 
His hands found your waist as he pulled you away from the wall, your legs clinging to his hips to steady yourself as he carried you as silently as he could down the hall and into the bedroom. He used his shoulder to shut the door, only continuing to the bed when it clicked against the frame. 
He laid you on the bed gently as if too much pressure would cause you to shatter. He watched as your back arched upward to meet his hands. They curled into the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down. 
His boyish excitement bubbled in his chest at the sight of your delightfully matching set of underwear. He couldn’t help himself from wondering if you always wore matching underwear or, if more self-indulgently, you knew by a greater power that he wouldn’t be able to help himself this evening and you wore them just for him. 
You were a divine sight as his eyes roamed over you. The way your thighs met at the top, the smooth skin of your stomach rising and falling as you breathed with anticipation. You were glorious, and you were all for him.
As his hands began to work at the clasps of his slacks your hands snaked under your back to unclasp your bra. He quickly grabbed at your wrist. “Let me.” he pleaded. He needed to be the one to strip you of your clothing. With a nod of verification he withdrew his hand and kicked off his shoes before he stepped out of his pants, pushing them with little care out of the way. 
He leaned over your perfect body, starting with an open mouthed kiss just above your pelvis before trailing them upward until he reached the underwire of your bra. His hands encircled around your frame, pushing between your skin and the sheets on the mattress to find the clasp against your back.
When his fingers made contact he fought against his haste to rip it off of you, instead delicately and teasingly unhooking one clasp, then the next, until the only support the bra had on your body was by the straps on your shoulders.
He pulled away from you, writhing his hands away from your back and to your shoulders as he dragged the straps down your arms, watching as your nipples immediately pebbled in the open air of his room. 
He oddly missed the sight of the little rose between your breasts, but the supple flesh of your chest made up for its departure. His hands traced down your sides before roaming up toward your breasts, pawing at them as he placed kisses between them– hearing your sweet little hums of pleasure returning as he flicked his thumb over your bud.
He looked up at you from between your breasts, as your hands tangled gently into his hair, combing it out of the way of his eyes. “You’re perfect.” he praised as he pulled his lips away from you. 
He stood to his full height, trailing his hands down your sides until his fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties. This was it– this was the vision he was waiting for. Your body completely bare for him, every ounce of your flesh ready to be swallowed down by his eyes. 
His breath hitched in his throat as he sucked down his excitement. First he saw your hips and the beginning of your pelvis, then he dragged the fabric further, finally bearing witness to your perfect little mound. 
He dragged your panties all the way down your smooth legs before discarding them to the floor. He took hold of your knees and pushed them backward so you could display yourself for him.
Your whines of embarrassment as he gazed upon your idyllic cunt didn’t deter him in the slightest. He was swallowing up the vision of you– legs spread, completely stripped down for him. 
He couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped past his lips. You were unparalleled. And right now, you were his. His cock twitched at the sight, and he palmed himself through his boxers, keeping one hand to caress up and down the side of your thigh. 
As soon as his hand met himself he groaned softly, the excitement coursing through his veins again that momentarily he’d be buried deep inside your sweet cunt. Your awaiting eyes, the slightly nervous expression on your face made you seem ethereal– like you were just a dream and he had to resist the urge to pinch himself to verify that you were in fact very real. 
He couldn’t take the wait any longer, it felt like it was eating him alive the longer he stared at the glistening evidence of your prior release still slick on your pussy. He tugged down his boxers with haste, kicking them to join his slacks off to the side. Your breath hitched as you caught sight of his size, making his eyes meet yours. 
A smirk pulled on his lips, “I know you can take it, sweet girl.” he cooed, taking himself in his hand and giving him a few strokes. He smeared the precum across his length, circling his hand around his girth. His tip was angry, desperate to be buried deep inside you, and his veins pulsed in agreement. In just a moment he’d be able to feel his cock against your velveteen walls. 
He kneeled on the edge bed, running his tip through your folds, making you whimper again. He shushed you gently, “Don’t worry, pretty. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” 
He coated himself with your slick as he aligned himself with your entrance. He slowly, using all the restraint he had to not just completely sheathe himself inside you, pushed into you. Your cunt immediately clenched, tightening around what little he’d put in.
He groaned, working more of himself inside you as you strained out moans, struggling against his size. 
The feeling was beyond what he thought he was prepared for. You were beyond perfect. His fingers did little to prepare him for this. Your cunt squeezed against him while simultaneously trying to draw him in, plush walls fluttering around his length. 
He couldn’t stop himself, he pushed all the way into you as far as his cock would go, letting out a guttural groan as he bottomed out. “Fuck- you take me so good… you feel incredible.” he praised. You were reduced to only whines and whimpers as you fought to adjust to him, but he didn’t care. 
His fingers drifted from your thighs to your tummy, his eyes widening in admiration as he caressed and admired the bulge in your belly where his dick resided from inside.
Christ, he wanted to fuck you dumb, fuck you so hard that you’d forget your own name, only babbling cock-drunken mumbles. 
He pulled out of you, no longer interested if you were adjusted or not before he plunged back inside of you, his head lurching forward as his eyes shut at the feeling. You clearly weren’t fully adjusted yet from your feeble cry, but not to worry, you’d be there soon enough. 
He dragged his hips back, his hands finding their way to your hips again as he pulled you down onto him– another cry pouring from your lips. He indulged himself with the unrealistic idea that a pretty little thing like you had never been touched before, that you were all encompassingly his. 
He hissed through his teeth, his own brows knitting over the idea. “F-Fuck…” he groaned. He found a rhythm, fucking into you as gently as he could but his need was quickly winning him over as he increased the pace of his hips. 
The way you whimpered his name drove him wild. Your chest rose and fell heavily, your fingers clutching tightly at his bedsheets. 
He leaned over you, pressing his lips to your neck again as he gently nibbled and sucked at the skin, your hands wrapping under his arms stabilized by your head– fingernails scratching down his back as he bucked his hips into you. His cock slid between your plush walls, he hissed curses as he sank down into you, pressing them against the skin of your throat. 
“Fuck-” he purred your name, “You’re amazing.” he praised, making you whimper again. 
You pressed your hips to his with every withdrawal, as if you couldn’t stand the idea of him pulling out of you, as if you couldn’t wait for him to fill you again. 
He bit down onto your neck, a little harsher than he’d admittedly meant to, making you mewl out. He withdrew from your body and grabbed tightly onto your thighs, dragging you toward him as he moved to stand at the edge of the bed. He pulled your legs to either side of his shoulders, desperate to breach as much of you as he could– and he was instantly gratified when his cockhead prodded against the silky, firm makings of your cervix. A groan of your name pulled from his throat as he sheathed himself against it.
Every pound of his hips to yours, every ram against your insides, made you cry out. He looked at the angelic expression of your pleasure before he leaned forward and pressed his hand over your mouth. As desperate as he was for you, he was even more so to not wake Henry– he wanted this moment to last forever, uninterrupted by anyone or anything. 
With your noises muffled by his strong palm his movements grew fervid, his teeth gritting together to stifle his own sounds of pleasure. Your walls stroked him effortlessly, it drove him wild– borderline animalistic. 
Your hands wrapped and gripped around his wrist as he looked over you, your brows knit together, your eyes pinched tightly shut as he fucked into you, each harsh thrust making your tits bounce as skin slapped against skin. 
It was filthy, you were such an innocent and delicate thing, yet you let him fill you up with his cock like a whore. 
That familiar clench he felt around his fingers now overwhelmed his length. His hand clutched tighter over your mouth as your whimpers grew incessant. You were unraveling right around him. 
“Gonna-cum-on-my-cock-like-a-good-girl?” he emphasized his words with thrusts of his hips making you cry out against his palm. Your walls continued to clench, fluttering around him as he fucked into you. 
Hitting again and again against the firm, slick surface of your cervix, the noises he worked so hard on muffling– he was nearing bliss himself. You nodded against his hand, muttering stuttered pleas against the skin of his palm.
“Then cum, sweet girl.” His hips slammed against yours again and as if he’d said the magic-fucking-word, your cunt fluttered causing his tip to twitch as your walls stroked him, your second release unraveling. 
His hand dug harsher against your mouth as he watched you reach your peak– your eyes rolled before your lashes fluttered, pinching tightly shut. You cried out curses against his hand as you came on his dick.
He groaned as you milked his cock. White hot euphoria blurred his eyes as he leaned his head back, hips stuttering only for a moment before he shot ropes of cum deep inside your cunt.
You whimpered against his palm, your walls fluttering around him as he twitched, still thrusting into you but at a much slower fervency now. He opened his eyes and huffed harshly, looking down into your fucked out expression as he withdrew his hand. 
He shoved your legs off his shoulders, closing in the distance between yours and his body as he crashed his lips against yours hungrily, clashing teeth against lips in the haste. 
You moaned into his mouth and he happily swallowed them down, panting into your own, still dragging his hips through the end of his orgasm.
You were fucking perfect. He couldn’t say it enough, you were a gift from the heavens above; an angel. He often fantasized about the idea of fucking you– but he found his fantasies were not nearly as incredible as the genuine thing. 
Fucks sake– he would happily stay buried in your cunt til the end of time. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you to whine in the loss of contact as he stood up to his full height and took himself in his hand, withdrawing from you. 
As he unsheathed himself he watched as the combination of your releases slid from your hole… he couldn’t have that. He needed it to stay deep inside of you. Needed a part of him to remain in your cunt as a reminder of what he did to you, how he soiled your sweet air of innocence. 
He dragged his tip along your folds, gathering up as much of it as he could before he gently shoved his cock back inside of you, making you whimper pathetically in overstimulation. He buried himself up inside you, bucking his hips gently as you tightened around him, making him hiss between his teeth. 
You whimpered his name and he huffed softly, “Okay, sweet girl.” he cooed, curling over you again, and writhed a hand through your hair consolingly as he unsheathed from your sweet cunt. 
Fucked out, skin tainted stickily with sweat, eyes heavy and tired… you were still nothing less than perfect to him– perhaps in this state even more so. 
He was filled to the brim with desire for you, but he couldn’t stop himself from pressing a soft and gentle kiss to your lips. One of love rather than lust. He adored the way you hummed against his lips. His hands trailed gently up and down your sides. 
He pulled away from your lips, looking down over your face as he gently caressed your cheek with the back of his knuckles. Perfect, he told himself again.
He helped you redress, as you were relentlessly unsteady on your own legs, but he didn’t mind in the slightest. He savored the way your fingers clutched his shoulders for stabilization as he helped you step into your underwear. He relished the way your head lolled softly against his chest as he pulled on your bra, clasping it in the back. 
It was admittedly a walk of shame back to the living room for your shirt, but he’d do it a million times over just for you, for the way you depended on him for his assistance.
The two of you stood for a moment, neither one of you knowing exactly what to say as your eyes roamed each other. You were both, however, in a silent agreement that nobody could ever know what had happened… though Charlie selfishly hoped it would happen again. 
“Let me help you.” he murmured, rushing to help you gather your bag, assisting you to pull it over your shoulder before you spun to look at him again. 
He couldn’t help but smile as the fucked out expression still tainted your features. “Well… thank you for the book.” you mumbled softly. 
After all that, he’d admittedly forgotten all about the book. His lips parted momentarily before they reconnected into a smile, and he softly shook his head. “I know it’s in good hands.” 
He watched as your lips curled up into a gentle and innocent smile. “You’ll call me next time you need a sitter, right?” He noted your eyes nervously looking between his own, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. He wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing you closer, “You don’t think I’m getting rid of you any time soon, do you? Quite the opposite actually, sweet girl.” 
You hummed softly as he placed a kiss on your forehead, making his heart beat a little harder in his chest. 
He was rather saddened to watch you pull away from him, making your way to the front door– he wanted nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms and carry you to his bed to rest your tired body, but he knew he couldn’t do that. 
So, he swallowed down his disappointment and unlocked the door for you, pulling it open.
You began to walk out, and he let himself indulge in the gentle sway of your hips as you walked past him, before you stopped, one hand on the frame of the door as you turned to face him.
He watched as your adorable wide eyes stared back into his. “Good night, Charlie.” 
He beamed, “Good night,” he purred your name. You lingered a moment longer, and he resisted the urge to raise a questioning brow, until your hand met his chest and your lips met his for one last kiss– you pulled away after a moment, and with an air of excitement you quickly turned on your heel and made your way out the door. 
He watched you glance back at him with that girlishly playful smile and he couldn’t help but chuckle. When you were out of sight he shut the door behind you, letting himself collapse against it as he writhed a hand through his hair, selfishly recalling tonight’s memories which were still, and would remain fresh in his mind for quite a while… surely until he saw you again, which he quickly made mental note to need you to watch Henry again soon.
You were a dangerous game, but Charlie wanted nothing more than to play.
350 notes · View notes
strawberry-whorecake · 9 months
Text
Routine | F.Z.
Tumblr media
pairing: Flip Zimmerman x fem!reader
summary: Flip knew better than to feel the way he did about you-- Chief Bridges' daughter-- but he couldn't help himself. When it came down to it, he was nothing more than a man, and you were a gorgeous woman... what the chief didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
word count: 2.6k
warnings: age gap (reader is of age), slight power dynamic, PinV sex, fingering, unprotected sex, public sex (kinda??), almost getting caught, swearing, dirty talk, praise, degrading
A/N: aaaaaaaahhh my first smut on here- god i hope its good... pls let me know your thoughts all feedback is greatly appreciated !! Plot credit goes to direnightshade on AO3 from their "Flip Zimmerman Prompts" collection, i read it and was immediately obsessed and needed to turn it into a fic so full credit goes to them!!
Flip could tell you were around from a mile away. Everybody from the detectives to the officers perked up when you were around, even if it was forced.
"Afternoon Ron, hey! Cool shirt, super fly." you giggled. "Hey Jimmy," your eyes fell on him, "Flip."
He nodded his head, gently clearing his throat as he straightened up, "Afternoon." His gaze drifted down your frame, moving from your eyes, down the fabric of your dress before he found himself looking at the plush of your thighs just beneath the hem of your dress.
He forced his eyes to the case file in his hands, only indulging himself when you turned away to head into the chief's office— watching as your hips would sway with every step you took.
Flip hated when you came into the station, or more specifically, he hated the thoughts he had when you came into the station. He hated the way your perfume lingered in the air even when you were no longer in the room, and that utterly gorgeous smile you were always so keen on flashing him.
But most of all, he hated the way his jeans felt entirely too tight when you were around and the way he couldn't contain his excitement to catch you alone because he knew what would always follow.
He listened intently as your fist rapped on the door, getting the okay from the chief the door creaked open and you greeted yourself as you entered. "Hi Daddy! You forgot your lunch again." The rest of your conversation got muddled over the chatter from the office, and Flip begrudgingly focused his attention back on the case file.
"No problem, I'll see you back at home!" Flip caught your goodbyes and hopped up, file under his arm as he swiftly exited the office accidentally—purposefully— bumping into you as you closed the chief's door behind you, unabashedly pressing his hips to your ass.
"Oh! I'm sorry!" you immediately apologized in a sickly sweet tone as you turned to face him, even though it was completely Flip's fault. "Oh, no, that was my bad." he shook his head softly. His heart pounded against his chest as you bid him one of your award winning smiles, seeing the relief wash over you that it was only him. "So how's detective's work treating you, Flip?"
He eyed you for a moment, he was certain you surely weren't interested in hearing about his job. He knew what you were more interested in, and he was more than willing to indulge you. Just being so close to you he couldn't contain himself. "You ever seen the records' room?" he asked.
Your brows raised as your eyes widened, and you peered over both of your shoulders. "There's no polite greetings with you, is there?" A smirk pulled on Flip's mouth as you scoffed a laugh, "You make a habit of dropping off your dad's lunch once a week, the outcome always ends up being the same."
He reached around you, pushing open the door to the record's room. He didn't speak, but his brows raised, urging you in. To his relief the room was empty. He watched as your hips swayed again, walking in front of him into the room, he could hardly wait to dig his fingers into the skin of your thighs.
You stopped halfway in the room, beckoning him with your finger. He risked a quick glance over his shoulders before stepping in and shutting the door behind him. He tossed the file haphazardly on the desk, grabbing you by the waist and pinning you against the back of the door. You gasped as his lips crashed into yours. This was routine with you two, but his force never not managed to take you by surprise.
He wasted no time running his tongue along your bottom lip, begging for entry into your mouth which you happily granted him. He sloppily explored every area of your mouth with his tongue, pressing his hips into yours as you whined into his mouth.
Your hands clutched at the fabric of his flannel as his fingers ran up and down your sides. He teased at the hem of your dress before running a thick finger over your clothed slit, making you moan against his lips.
“Flip…” you whimpered as he pulled away from your lips to place open mouthed kisses down your neck, his fingers continuing to tease your clothed cunt.
“Shh… you don’t want anyone to know what we’re up to in here, do you?” He hummed against your neck as he pulled away enough to look up at you, watching as your teeth clamped down on your lip to conceal the sounds of your pleasure— much to his annoyance as he wanted nothing more than to hear make those beautiful little noises and listen to you scream his name as he made you feel so good. When you shook your head he hummed again, “Good girl.”
His lips found their way to that spot in the crook of your neck that made you purr like a kitten when he caressed it with his tongue. Your fingers grazed upward and tangled around his neck, clutching at the raven waves of his hair. When you tugged gently on his strands he let out a low groan, pressing his hips into yours again, and allowed himself to sneak his fingers into the waistband of your underwear.
“Fuuuck…” he groaned, pulling away from your neck. “Am I the one who makes you this wet?” he teased, running his index and middle finger between your folks and gathered your slick. He looked up to your eyes, intimidating you as he watched you bite harder on your lip and timidly nod your head.
He leaned in, pressing his face close to yours as he whispered in your ear, his voice gruff that he nearly growled his words, “What would the chief think knowing his perfect little girl is such a little slut?”
As he spoke he sheathed his index finger inside you, making you mewl, which he quickly covered up by smashing his lips to yours and swallowing down your moans. 
He pumped his finger in and out of you, stretching you out on his thick digit, “Always so tight…” he groaned, pressing his lips against your neck again, finding that spot once again. "We're gonna have to work you up to fitting me... you know that."
Your fingers gently scratched at his scalp and he groaned against your skin. He couldn't wait to get you on his cock but he knew he'd split you in two if he let his fervor get the best of him. He pulled away from your neck, studying your face as he inserted another finger.
He watched in awe at the way your eyes pinched shut, brows knitting together as he felt your walls clamp around him. He curled his fingers, hitting that sweet spot that made your thighs tremble and you whined out for him again, making him press his lips to yours to stifle your noises.
His tongue sloppily prodded against yours, groaning softly as you whimpered into his mouth, using his fingers to beckon your orgasm closer— his dick fighting with the tightness of his jeans as he bucked his hips into yours again, desperate for friction.
"Flip- please... n-need you..." you whined. Flip huffed, "Needy little thing, aren't you?" He mumbled against your jaw. "Tell me what you want."
"You-" you squeaked, suddenly shy. His fingers dragged slowly out of your cunt drawing a moan out of your throat as he smirked. "No, use your words." He plunged his fingers back inside of you, making you gasp and speak hurriedly, "Your dick! I need your dick inside me!"
His smirk broadened. "Good girl."
Flip loved knowing how he drove you to this state. Your father of course would have Flip's head if he knew the truth— knew that once a week he found every excuse to bury himself deep inside your cunt, that he was whoring out the chief's daughter, but god, could Flip only look forward to your weekly meetings.
He withdrew his fingers, making you whine at the loss of contact. Flip couldn't stop himself from chuckling at your desperation as he pulled you by the waist deeper into the records' room. The clack of his belt buckle coming undone between the aisles of boxes made your need for him grow incredibly.
You watched as he pulled out his cock, his tip angry and red, leaking precum, just as desperate for you as you were for him. You moaned at the sight of him taking himself in his hand and spreading his precum along his length— and much louder than Flip's comfort level. He clamped his free hand over your mouth, "You've got to be quiet, you want the whole station to know you're such a little whore for me?" he studied your expression as you shook your head.
He withdrew his hand and hiked up your dress, grabbing hold of your thigh, and pinning it to his waist as he slid your panties to the side. You pinched your eyes shut preparing for the bittersweet sting as he aligned himself with your entrance. "No- eyes on me." he ordered.
You obeyed, opening your eyes and looking into his as he sheathed just the tip of his dick inside you. It took all of his self restraint to not plunge completely into you, split you open, and god knows the way your walls squeezed and drew him in he wanted to more than anything, but he offered you the decency of allowing you to adjust to his thick size.
"Fuck-" he groaned, "even your sweet little cunt is so needy for me." You whimpered at his words, trying to grind yourself deeper onto him.
With your okay he finally thrust himself in fully, he watched again as your brows knit and your perfect lips fell open into the most adorable 'o' shape. He fought every urge to pull out and slam back into you, and he occupied his time with your neck again, trailing more sloppy kisses on your skin.
He growled lowly as he withdrew from you, slowly sliding his way back inside of you. He thrust inside you a few times, your eyes fluttering shut at his movements. He didn't mind, he was too preoccupied watching his cock slide in and out of your perfect pussy. He loved the way you swallowed him up— took all of him flawlessly. He often indulged himself with the thought that your cunt was made just for him.
"Flip-" you whimpered. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, looking over your expression once again. His fingers dug into the plush of your thigh, leaving small crescent-shaped indents in your flesh as he hiked your leg up.
"Jump." he instructed. You furrowed your brows in confusion, but his expression didn't let you linger on the feeling as you wrapped your arms around his neck and he hoisted you up, wrapping his elbows under your knees— pinning you against the shelf behind you.
At this angle, Flip was able to bury himself impossibly deeper inside you, prodding the firm, silky surface of your cervix with his tip. He groaned, burying his head in the crook of your neck as he rocked into you. You were barely legible, descended into nothing but gasps for breaths and moans as he slammed his hips into yours.
He pulled away from your neck, looking into your eyes, "I want you to look at me when you cum, do you understand?" He searched your gaze hungrily, he needed to watch you as you came undone, needed to watch the way your chin would tremble and your brows would knit so tightly together. You nodded, unable to speak with the way he filled you so full.
His size alone was sending you reeling toward bliss, that tight knot in your stomach growing incredulously tighter with every thrust. The only sounds were the obscene noises of skin slapping together and the moans spilling from your throat until the door creaked open.
You gasped as Flip's head flew in the direction of the door, holding you up astonishingly with one of his strong arms as the other flew to clamp over your mouth. He leaned in closer, hissing a silent warning to you.
The footsteps grew nearer and he knew he should've immediately stopped— but he couldn't find the restraint to. He balanced you between his arm and the shelf as he withdrew his hips before thrusting in again, clamping his hand down tighter over your lips as you breathed hotly against his palm. You wanted to make him stop, the fear of being caught too overwhelming, but fuck, was the threat only turning you on more.
His eyes looked into yours warningly as he withdrew his hand, lowering it to your clit where he began to draw tight, quick circles. You bit down on his shoulder, not trusting yourself enough to not moan out as he continued pounding inside you, his pace growing frantic.
He kept his face close to yours, his own breaths growing ragged as he tried his damnedest to breathe out of his nose to stifle his own groans that bubbled in his throat.
Flip couldn't decide if he was relieved or disappointed when the footsteps descended and the door opened before shutting again— leaving the two of you alone.
"Fuck-!" He groaned into your shoulder, his fingers drawing sloppier circles around your clit as his hips began to stutter. "F-Flip-" you panted out, "I-I’m-"
He nudged your cheek with his angular nose, making you look at him. "Remember the rules- look at me while you cum on my cock." he huffed. You bit down on your lip as you nodded, his eyes glued to your expression behind his own furrowed and focused brows. Your mouth fell into that perfect 'o' once more, and you could barely keep your eyes on him as your back arched and he watched you fall apart before him.
He watched as your perfect eyes rolled back, his hips and fingers never stilling as they worked you through your orgasm. Your walls stroked him, pulling him closer to his own ecstasy. "F-Fuck-!"
He buried his face in your shoulder, erupting in expletives and groans as your cunt throbbed around him, milking him, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades. "Fuuuck..." he huffed once more as he buried himself as deeply inside you as he could, spilling his release.
He felt your thighs tremble and he quickly brought his arm to steady you once again as he pumped his hips a few more times, finishing off his high despite your small whimpers of protest in overstimulation.
He pulled away from your shoulder, unsheathing himself from you as he carefully lowered you to the ground, supporting your wobbling legs with a strong grip as you both fought to regain your breaths.
He created a little bit of distance from you as he tucked himself back into his pants, watching as you straightened your own clothing out. When your eyes met his he swept back in, colliding his lips to yours.
You pulled away from the kiss first, much to Flip's disgruntlement. "We should go... that was already a close enough call." You spoke breathlessly, still working on steadying your breath. He sighed, running a hand through his hair before nodding. "Yeah, I'll make sure it's all clear."
He turned out of the aisles knowing you were following close behind him. He peered through the hazy glass looking for a sign of anyone— which thankfully the hall seemed to be deserted. With a gulp of a breath he pulled open the door.
With no one around he beckoned his hand, watching as you slipped past him out the door. He watched once more as your hips swayed with every step, a smirk curling on his lips again.
"Same time next week?" He called, making you spin around on your heel to shoot him a warning glare. His smirk broadened as he bit down on his tongue. "See you then, Bridges."
287 notes · View notes
strawberry-whorecake · 10 months
Text
First Date
Adam Sackler x Reader
Warnings: PIV sex, dirty talk (that’s somehow sweet?!)
I went on a date yesterday and it was fine and the guy was ok but he was awkward and it just made me think about Adam Sackler on an awkward first date.
Tumblr media
Usually I imagine falling for him after knowing him - working with him or having mutual friends - so you already have that initial barrier broken down.
But like meeting him off of hinge?
He would be so fucking awkward. Say all the wrong things. Be super inappropriate.
And then STILL ask you to come back to his place.
You might tell him that you have no intention of having sex on the first date and he shakes his head vigorously. Says the invitation is for some other innocuous reason - come see that canoe-sized replica of a Viking ship he’s been crafting or some shit. And in spite of yourself you’re curious so you say yes and make the short walk to his place, very conscious of the fact that he keeps touching your arm any time he speaks, finding excuses to make contact with you. And it is SO obvious. So heavy handed. But somehow you’re not too bothered.
In his apartment he does show you the canoe and it does look like a mini Viking ship. He asks if it impresses you and you shrug, honest.
“But what would impress you?” He asks, hands stuffed in his pockets from where he stands, across the room from you with the 3/4 finished canoe between you.
“Impress me?” You ask, laughing at such an absurd, forward question. “It’s a date, not a cirque de solei show.”
“So contortion? Aerial acrobatics? That’s what does it for you?” Adam’s smile is lopsided and you bite your lip.
“Nothing hotter than a well executed handstand,” you joke.
Suddenly Adam is pushing his tools aside to open up space on the floor before cartwheeling into a messy handstand, his jean-clad legs flailing and bending at the knee.
“Adam!” You shriek out as he practically careens into you before righting himself. You’re laughing so hard you’re doubled over and grabs onto your shoulders to get your attention, barking out breathless laughs himself.
“So was that hot?”
“No it was a mess!” You say, shaking your head and looking up at him. He tries to grimace at the critique but his smile at your laughter wins out.
“Oh yeah? What are you a gymnast? Can you do better?”
“Yeah I can actually,” you respond, lifting your chin defiantly. “Watch this.”
You drop your bag down on the cluttered surface of a nearby table and go to find your handstand but stop short,
“Fuck,” you mutter.
“What?”
You look back at Adam over your shoulder.
“I forgot I’m wearing a skirt.”
“And?”
“And if I do a handstand it’ll fall down and expose me.”
“And that’s bad why?” The cheeky grin makes you want to slap him but there’s also something innocent about it beneath the douchey exterior. He says what he thinks unfiltered.
“Ok horn dog, if I’m going to do this then you’re going to help me,” you pivot, grabbing him by the arm to join you in the open space on the floor.
“How can I help you?” he asks, stepping into you and automatically putting his massive hands on your waist, squeezing. Your stomach swoops at the contact. It’s been a long time and a lot of bad dates, it hadn’t hit you how much you’ve been craving physical contact. But you make yourself swipe away his touch.
“You’re going to hold up my skirt when I’m upside down.”
“To protect your modesty, m’lady?” he snorts, adopting an absurd pseudo-British accent.
“Indeed. And you’ll do it good sir. If you are a gentleman,” you say over your shoulder, stepping into position and getting ready to make your headstand. He waves his hand and bows, gesturing for you to go.
When you drop into your handstand, you feel your skirt flutter around your body along with a grunted fuck and shuffle of movement before you feel the fabric bunched and Adam’s grip keeping it in place around your thighs.
“Ok fine. This is a good handstand,” he says grudgingly.
“So does it impress you?” you tease.
“Yeah. You were right. It’s really fucking hot,” he agrees and you start laughing so hard you lose your balance. Adam catches you as you start to topple over, grabbing you around the middle and flipping you upright in his arms.
“A gentleman and a hero,” you joke, looping your arms around his neck loosely.
You expect him to drop you down to your feet but he doesn’t, instead continuing to hold you aloft with ease. He takes in the sight of your body in his arms before settling his gaze on your face. At first his intense stare feels unnerving, but it gives you a chance to take in his visage. Puppy dog eyes drooping as he watches you. Patches of facial hair that you have the sudden urge to scratch your nails through. Full lips that part as his breath speeds up.
And you realize you have a choice. While a dinner, you weren’t really sure how you felt about Adam. You’d met on a dating app and decided to give him a chance with very little to go off of apart from your therapist’s enthusiastic encouragement to “take risks and meet more people.” You could still extricate yourself from his grasp, thank him for an interesting evening, and head home to a pint of ice cream and a podcast.
Or.
Or you could see what lies waiting beyond that slightly unhinged look in his eyes. Though he’s a bit inappropriate, he’s been pretty respectful. He’s intelligent, that much you’ve gleaned. He’s good looking - fuck he’s good looking. You kept missing the punch lines to his tasteless jokes during dinner because you kept zoning out imagining what it would be like to climb him like a tree. Or to have all of the hulking weight of his large body baring down on you, your back sinking into a mattress.
Ultimately, you choose the latter.
You lunge forward, pulling him to you with the arms around his neck and pressing your lips together forcefully. He’s stunned at first and for a second it is only you applying pressure. But then your back is slammed against the nearest wall and he’s matching your enthusiasm. Exceeding it.
He rearranges you in his arms so that your thighs are on either side of his body, pelvises pressed to one another. Beginning a gyrating rhythm as your body awakens to a new feeling of need.
You want him. His hands grip the globes of your ass and he sucks on your neck when you break away to gasp for air. You want this strange, tall, unreadable, awkward, sexy man. And you don’t know what this means, or what tomorrow brings, but tonight you need to find out what this is like.
“Adam,” you say, and it comes out more breathless than you intend.
“Yeah?” He asks, leaning back up.
“Will you please fuck me?”
You’re not sure how it is that you suddenly find yourself flat on your back on a bed. Maybe you were nearer to his bedroom than you’d realized, having not fully paid attention to your surroundings when he’d invited you in.
Adam nudges your thighs apart and settles his body between your open legs, pressing kisses to your throat, your collar bone.
“Are you always this polite when you wanna be railed?” He whispers in your ear. A thrill runs down your spine.
“You know what they say about catching more - oh my god.” He sucks on a particularly sensitive spot of your throat and your toes curl. “Whatever - something with honey.”
“You catch more dick with honey?” he asks, thrusting his pelvis against yours pointedly. You laugh.
“Something like that.” Your hands fist in his shirt and you pull him down to kiss you again. His tongue slides into your mouth and you moan. A large hand closes over yours and pulls it between you, pressing your palm to what feels to be an impressive bulge.
“Now that you’ve caught this dick, what are you going to do with it?”
You clamp your legs around him and shove, urging him to roll onto his back which he does immediately. Once your positions are reversed you straddle his hips and lower yourself down onto said impressive bulge. Your skirt fans out around you, hiding your meeting pelvises as you roll your hips, but beneath the fabric you’re left to feel his hardening length through his jeans in nothing but your thin cotton underwear.
“Well I can do…this with it,” you say quietly, rolling your hips so that the ridge of his clothed member settles between your pussy lips through the fabric. Adam grits his teeth and grips your hips, shifting your body to encourage more movement. You laugh and swat at his hands. “You asked what I was going to do with it, not what you were going to do with it.”
“Yeah I guess you’re right,” Adam agrees, loosening his grip. As you grind against him some more his eyes search your body, as if looking for something. Then his eyes light up. “Can I - may I - play with your tits? See I can be polite, too.”
You almost snort a laugh in response but he looks so genuine and you nod. His hands slide up from your hips to your breasts, cupping them almost reverently through the thin material of your shirt. Your bra seems to be an unwanted deterrent because he yanks down on the neck of your shirt and pops your breasts out of their cups, freeing your nipples to pebble from the cool air and his attention.
“Fffuuuuck,” Adam moans and he sits upright and presses his face to the valley between your breasts, pushing them in on him from either side. He hums into your cleavage and the vibrations tickle, making you shriek out another giggle and grip at the hair on the back of his head.
He looks up from between your breasts, eyes glazed.
“Don’t stop,” he mutters and you realize you’d halted your movements with the distraction of this new stimulation. So you start grinding against him again and he gazes up at you as he takes a nipple into his mouth, teasing the other between his thumb and forefinger. You inhale sharply and your hips stutter. Adam moved to the other nipple, laving it with his tonguing before sucking it into his mouth.
“Holy shit,” you manage to grit out. Adam grins at you, straightening back up into a sitting position. His hands go back to covering your breasts, massaging them and squeezing them at intervals. You moan and arch into his touch.
“You like that?�� You nod vigorously but Adam repeats the question. “You like that? You like it when I play with your tits, huh?”
“Yeah,” you manage to mumble, grinding harder against him.
He eyes you before reaching under your skirt and rooting around blindly till he finds the apex of your legs where it presses against his erection.
“Fuck, you’re already so wet. I’ve barely touched you, baby.” He’s right. You’ve soaked through your panties in the unrelenting pursuit of pressure against his denim bulge. Suddenly you feel an extra pressure. A focused pressure as he uses his finger to rub at the hood of your mound through your panties. You tilt your hips and suddenly he’s pressing just right, making contact with your aching clit through the soaked material.
“Oh god oh god oh…” you gasp as you speed up your grinding. You feel good, really good. You could come from this, with a little more time and effort. But everything is sped up exponentially when he grabs your left breast with his free hand and dips his head down to your right breast and sucks at the pillowy flesh.
“Oh fuck - god. Adam fuck,” is all you manage to get out, hands fisted in his hair and keeping his face where it is as you convulse on top of him. Your little hole constricts around nothing and you grind down against his length trying to get as much contact as possible as your body is wracked with shakes.
Adam pulls off your breast then and looks at you with a particularly proud grin.
“Did you just fucking cum?” he asks. You try to bury your head in his neck so you don’t have to answer the question. His hand pulls out from under your skirt and he grips your waist, reversing your position so that you are once again on your back.
Your chest rises and falls with your heavy breathing, shirt and bra still pulled down so that your breasts are exposed. Adam yanks you closer to him and you squeal, but the squeal turns into a moan when he pulls your legs wide open and scoots in between them. He bunches your skirt up so that it lays around your stomach, exposing your lower half to him as well.
“Holy shit baby. You always this wet when you cum or is this all just for me?”
“It’s f-for you,” you manage to mutter. You’re not well versed in dirty talk, but this man seems to love it and his words have turned you on this much this far, so it can’t hurt to participate.
Adam groans in response to your words. He slowly peels off your wet panties, tossing them over the side of the bed before clambering off.
“Could you…fuck,” he grumbles, getting distracted by the look of you spread out on the bed. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration before reaching down and unbuttoning his jeans. “Could you take that shit off?”
You look down at yourself - where all the clothing you were wearing had bunched around your middle having been either yanked down or yanked up. You pull off the shirt and bra in one movement, eager not to lose sight of the man before you for long. Not with how it feels to watch him watch you as he pulls off his own shirt - that masculine tug at the back of the collar which rips the fabric up and over his head. You’d been bracing yourself against his broad chest and abdomen while grinding on him, and you’d felt the hardness there, but you weren’t prepared for the sight of his mouthwatering muscles.
As he goes to unzip his jeans you remember you aren’t finished with your task, so you pull your skirt down over your hips, hinging so that your breast are shown to their best advantage.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he breathes and it catches you off guard. Yeah there’s an expletive in the sentence, but he said “gorgeous” instead of hot. And you’re not sure why that sends tingles throughout your body. You finish pulling your skirt off and lean back against the bed, propping yourself up on the pillows up by the headboard. Watching as Adam eases his jeans and briefs off in one fell swoop.
He stands before you, naked. Just like you are. His cock is purpling at the tip. Large, swollen, heavy. He takes it in hand and strokes it a few times. Watching him do so from a distance makes your pussy clench. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to hide your body’s automatic eagerness.
“No, keep them open,” he grunts out. You hesitate, opening your legs just a little. Adam shakes his head. “No spread yourself out for me. Let me see you.”
There’s something intimate in the phrase “let me see you.” Arguably more intimate than when you’d just rutted yourself to orgasm in his clothed hard on not moments ago. You oblige him and open you legs wide, exposing the glistening slit of your pussy, dripping with cum and arousal.
“Fuck.” Adam bites down on the word and his fist moves faster on his cock. A knee sinks to the mattress and he clambers back on, crawling till he’s between your thighs, adjusting you so that your legs are wound around him.
The underside of his cock slides through your juices till his head taps your sensitive clit. You all but gasp.
“So you wanted me to fuck you?” He asks. You nod but he drops down to his forearms so he’s closer to you. He licks the shell of your ear before whispering. “I said…you wanted me to fuck you?“
“Yes, please fuck me, Adam.” It comes out as a whine but you sound stronger than you expected you would with how all of your nerves are shot from anticipation.
Adam reaches between you and presses his dick into you, not entering your hole yet but giving you something to rock up against.
“Adam…” you whine again. He sucks a mark into the side of your neck.
“You want this cock?“ his voice is a hot whisper in your ear and you grasp and every part of him you can reach, trying to pull him into you.
“Yes. I…I want this cock.” You inhale sharply when he lifts his cock and slaps it back down lightly on your clit.
“Mmm but where did little miss manners go? Isn’t it polite to say please when you ask for something?” He asks, but you can feel his muscles quivering with the effort of self control.
“Please?”
“Please what?”
You let out a frustrated huff and angle your hips to try and slip him inside you but his lifts his pelvis away, making you whine.
“Please can I have your cock?“
“There’s my sweet girl,” he says with a radiant smile. He drops his hips and again slides the underside of his cock through the length of your slit.
But still he doesn’t go inside you.
“Inside me. Adam. Please. Your cock.” You’re babbling at this point. Tears of frustration welling in the corners of your eyes.
“What was that, sweet girl?” Adam asks, mimicking confusion.
“Adam please put your cock inside me. Pleasepleaseplease - ohhhh.” Your whines stop abruptly when Adam sheathes himself inside you. He bottoms out quickly and your legs spasm before settling back down around his naked hips.
“So pretty when you beg, baby,” he practically slurs. Pussy drunk already and he hasn’t been in you a minute yet.
“Please. Please.” You want him to move already, want the delicious pressure inside you to build.
And Adam obliges. He fucks you with abandon. Lifts your legs to rest on his shoulders, effectively folding you in half to drive into you harder harder harder.
“You’re taking me so well,” Adam practically coos, pressing a sloppy kiss to your collar bone. You practically drool, incapable of responding now that you’re getting exactly what you want and oh god. You can’t believe just an hour ago you’d sat across from this man in a restaurant, unsure of how you felt about him.
Now you know how you feel. Like you’ll never get enough of the feeling of being this full. Over and over again.
“I usually - fuck. I like saying dirty shit in bed.”
“I n-noticed,” you manage to say, humor beneath your breathlessness. Adam delivers a light slap to your ass and you giggle.
“No I say worse shit. Call girls names and - fuck. I don’t know. Make up fucked up scenarios.” He’s rambling and you’re barely following, your eyes glazing and ears ringing as the pleasure builds. But then Adam pulls you up and shuffles. Suddenly he’s sitting upright with his back against the headboard and you’re sitting his lap, speared all the way on his cock. Feeling him deep deep deep and it’s got you moaning openly, pitching forward to clutch him to you through the sensation.
“But with you I just…wanna be sweet.” He says it quietly. His words don’t register. Not now that his finger has found your clit again, massaging hypnotic shapes into the aching bud.
He doesn’t rush you, doesn’t thrust up into you. With his free hand he lightly grips your chin till your eyelids open and you take him in with unfocused eyes. Adam leans in then and kisses you. A slow, deep, sensual kiss that has you rocking back and forth on his cock.
Before you know it, you’re bouncing up and down on his cock of your own volition. Gasping and moaning as Adam’s own groans vibrate through your body.
“Adam,” you manage to cry out. It’s a warning. His eyes snap open and he looks at you urgently.
“You’re gonna cum again? You’re gonna cum, baby?”
“Yes. Gonna - ah. Cum.”
He grips your hips and guides your movement on him, helping your bodies hit harder, move deeper.
“Cum for me, sweet girl.”
You spasm on his cock, clenching and unclenching around his length while shakes wrack your body. You cry out his name along with a chorus of “please”. What you’re begging for you’re not sure. More of his cock? For him to come inside you?
You must beg for the latter because his mouth is at your ear again as you grip tightly onto him.
“You really want me to cum inside you? Are you sure?”
“Yes, please,” you let out hoarsely.
And with that permission he’s emptying himself inside you. Filling you up even more and letting out the most devastatingly delicious moans you’ve ever heard.
~*~
Later, after he’s helped clean you up and brought you a cold Gatorade, he settles beside you on the bed and drops a lazy kiss to your shoulder.
“Thank you,” he says simply. You scrunch your nose and laugh.
“You’re thanking me for sex?”
“It’s only polite.”
~*~
After note: WOW you guys. That wasn’t even supposed to be a lil thot let alone a fic. I started writing that last night just to say I went on a mediocre date and then this happened. Sackler is written a lot softer here than I usually write him, but I guess that’s just what I need right now. Hope it works for you.
Tiny tag list: @mariesackler @paper-n-ashes @sacklerscumrag @butyoudidthis4what @jynzandtonic @millenialcatlady @maybe-your-left
390 notes · View notes
strawberry-whorecake · 10 months
Text
Thou Shalt Have No Other Gods Before Me
Tumblr media
Masterlist
Pairing: Flip Zimmerman x fem!reader
Summary: Flip Zimmerman believed there to only be one God whose name was his own.
Word count: 7.4k
Warnings: Age gap (reader is of age), sexual harassment (maybe idk), PinV sex, unprotected sex, fingering, masturbation, swearing, dirty talk, religion, blasphemy.
A/N: Maaaaybe don't read this if you're religious. I was raised Lutheran so I mostly drew inspiration from that ☺️
It took him a while to get you as he wanted; squirming under him as his lips were hot on your neck and his fingers were deep in your pussy, caressing your walls until tears were leaking from your eyes from the pleasure.
Flip could remember the first time he had seen you as clear as day. You had come bounding into the police station with a basket of freshly baked goods and a sinfully sweet dress that swung by your knees. The preacher’s daughter. Your father had been a few steps behind you, but Flip had been so preoccupied with devouring every inch of you that he could see that he had completely overlooked him.
You were new in town and Flip knew that there would be more than a few dirty bastards at the precinct that probably wanted to sink their filthy claws into you. He didn’t even want to begin to think about all those boys at the community college and what they got up to whilst daydreaming of you. Honestly, sometimes Flip thought that the filth that was man should be completely eradicated from earth, and he’d thought of it even more since he’d met you.
Flip couldn’t allow that, of course. You were so pure, you deserved to be with somebody who could treat you right; somebody who could treat that pretty pussy you had between your legs like it deserved to be treated; somebody who was a God amongst men.
You needed to be licked at until your legs shook as you came gushing all over his face, and after that, to be fucked with your ass high up in the air as he drove into you from behind, the tip of him pounding into that soft, spongy part of you that would make your walls clench around his thick shaft as you milked him. He wanted you to moan into his ear as he made you cum with just his fingers and a few kisses on your neck.
Flip found himself to be more... charitable after that. The time he would usually spend tugging at his cock on a Thursday afternoon when he got off work early was spent volunteering at the church, right alongside you.
Of course, Flip wasn’t a religious or God-fearing man, far from it. He did not believe in any sort of higher power that so many people devoted their lives to. Yes, he was born Jewish, but hadn’t given much thought to religion past the time he’d become self-aware. Why was there a need for a god to dictate your life when he could make all the right decisions himself?
It started small. He took his time getting you, coming across as the nice guy — but, of course, he was a nice guy, so it wasn’t all completely an act.
Volunteering at Colorado Hills Church on Thursday’s consisted of cleaning up after the gardening group that you held every week at 3 P.M. It was just him, you, and another irrelevant man who would put away the heavy tables and gardening tools. You were always so grateful for his help, thanking him over and over again before disappearing and reappearing again with a steaming hot cup of coffee whenever he took a break to inhale a cigarette.
Flip would always make sure to come just a few minutes earlier than he needed to so that he could catch the last few moments of your class. He could admit that it was nice seeing you in your element, the way you flourished as you fluttered around the kids that were learning about some new vegetable every week. He couldn’t help watching your every move, every laugh that rang out of you and every smile that wove its way across your face.
It took a month before he got you alone for the first time. 4 weeks of spending his Thursday afternoons with you and fisting his cock until he came all over his stomach when he came home. You made him so, so incredibly hard. His cock would painfully throb in his jeans as he saw you bend over in those short dresses you would wear, always the picture-perfect image of a preacher’s daughter.
It was all an act. Flip knew it, you knew it, anyone who took their time to think about more than their head between your thighs would be able to see it. You had everyone fooled, everyone except for him. Flip noticed the way you would squirm anytime he looked at you, the way you would subconsciously rub your thighs together and bite your lip. It was the reason why Flip liked to tease you. He knew that sending you even half of a smile was enough to make your panties drenched and he thrived on that little tidbit of information.
“Just us today?” You jumped as you heard his voice from behind you and Flip couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of amusement as he saw the flustered look on your face.
“Yeah, just us.” You let out a nervous giggle as you stared up at him with wide eyes and Flip thought you reminded him of a doe-eyed deer, caught in the trap of the hunter.
“Good.”
“I- I...” You stuttered, words falling over a cliff into a pool of nothingness as you became tongue-tied. Flip liked the way he could reduce you to a complete mess with less than a handful of words.
The last few stragglers of kids had already left so you were all alone in the garden, in your own oasis, surrounded by high shrubs and cold concrete walls that separated the rest of the world from you. He had you all to himself, right where he wanted you.
“What do you want to do first?” He awarded you the pretence that you were the one who decided what to do, that you were the one that completely dictated the when, where, and how. It was cute.
“Ma- Maybe we could ehm... start with the- the tools.” It was the usual routine, starting with the tools, then the bags of soil, and then the large planter tables. But it made you feel like you had some sort of semblance of control when he let you point and order him around.
Flip got to it quickly. He lifted from his knees, hoisting the unopened bags over his shoulder with ease and then gathered all the scattered tools as you tried helping as much as you could. You were like a little mouse, scurrying around like a flustered mess as you made minimal small talk whilst stumbling over your words.
He took his opportunity when you dropped the overly large box of seeds of all kinds. He didn’t rush over to help you, taking his time to set down the boxes he had been carrying before meandering over to help you pick up the scattered bags.
“Clumsy, are we?” You smiled down at your hands as you shrugged your shoulders. Flip made you flustered, he unnerved you and made your heart race at such a pace that you found it impossible not to fumble with even the simplest of tasks. Walking in a straight line without stumbling became something that you barely knew how to do.
“Sorry…” You didn’t know exactly what you were apologising for but the urge to blurt it out came over you before you could stop yourself. Flip let out a chuckle before he put the last few bags back into the box and straightened out to his full height.
It was clear to Flip that you were completely mesmerized and spellbound as you looked up at him, his impressive physique entrancing you completely. He liked you like this, looking up at him as if he was your saviour, the one that would deliver salvation to you as you prayed at his feet.
Flip held out his hand, reaching down to help you up. He didn’t let your hand go immediately once you were on both feet, but you didn’t either. It was all very cliche, but Flip wasn’t one to complain. Life, once again, was working in his favour. You were becoming more and more entranced by him, adoration growing in your core like a flower in April whose petals furled out in an unperturbed instance, there in less than a moment.
“Thank you.” You whispered quietly as if you were afraid that the wind would overhear a secret only meant for his ears. Flip thought that your eyes looked beautiful in that moment, glittering in the sunshine that you bathed in. “For always being so kind and helping.”
Flip probably didn’t deserve a thank you. He was, after all, solely motivated for selfish reasons that involved less than supposedly true Christian values. But who cared about Christian values when they were sourced in the book of God that fueled such hatred in the world; when the Most High created evil that degraded the earth and defiled the innocent? He did not strike down the sinners as he promised; instead, warlords were beloved for the chaos and strife they caused the world, praised for ungodly acts as something akin to Lucifer whispered in their ears and blackened their hearts.
“You’re the one that should be thanked.” You looked surprised over his words; like it was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth; like you had never been thanked before in your entire life.
“I just do what I am told.” You released his hand abruptly, twirling on your heels and walking off.
There was a shed behind the church that housed all the gardening tools you used for your classes. It was a quiet place, a private place that was perfect for any adventure you did not want anyone else to see.
Flip had to duck to get through the door without hitting his head. It was a surprisingly organised space; you were meticulous when it came to what went where. There was a small single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling that cast an ominous light over all that resided within the four walls.
“Do you enjoy doing all of this? All this volunteering?” Flip’s voice was gruff as his eyes flickered across the small hut, taking in all the details that he had already seen with a renewed interest.
“Of course.”
“I think you’re lying to yourself.” It was easy to hear your sharp inhale, there wasn’t exactly much that could drown it out except for Flip’s own breathing. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, unsure of what to say.
“You shouldn’t say such things.”
“What kind of things?”
“Such… Such blasphemous things.”
“What is blasphemous about that?”
You didn’t have an answer for him, and he didn’t expect you to. Besides, ‘blasphemous’ was practically synonymous with ‘human’, especially when it came to the disgrace of men. The disgrace that so many men fell victim to, and they then excused under the guise of religion and worshipping a holy man. In Flip’s eyes, letting the figment of a man dictate a life of discontent which was shrewd with greed seemed pointless. It was better to own up to whatever mistakes one made. Not that Flip made mistakes, but others did, and he pitied them for it.
“We are all blasphemous beings; don’t you think so?”
Your mouth fell open and your eyes widened over his words. He moved closer to you; a predator stalking prey.
“Even God must have blasphemous thoughts when he has to witness beauty such as yourself every day.”
“Mr Zimm-”
“Call me Flip.” He was so close to you now that he toed at your shoes.
“Flip, you shouldn’t say such things here.”
“Would it be better if I just thought them?” Flip didn’t need the excuse of being God to be able to read your thoughts, it was all clear as day, right there upon your pretty face.
“I think it would be, actually.”
“Do you ever think such things?” He asked with a crooked grin.
A pause in your resumed movements of nervous organisation. Your head turned slowly to look up at him with the hint of an unwilling smile on your lips. He returned it by a widening of his own, coaxing an answer out of you with the silent promise of something beyond mere friendship.
“Maybe sometimes.”
“Do you think we’ll go to hell? Just for some unclean thoughts?” Flip almost felt bad for the audible gulp you swallowed over his words.
“No?”
“No.” Flip didn’t believe that there even was a hell to begin with, but he didn’t need to tell you that right at that moment.
“Do you ever do something for your own pleasure?”
“Pleasure?”
“You know… enjoyment, happiness, satisfaction, pleasure.”
“Sometimes.” You squeaked out. Had you ever been this close to a man that wasn’t related to you before? Had you ever felt the heat of another rolling off them in waves so strong that it felt like it would pull you under, down into the deepest darkest pits, and never let you free?
“So, what do you do?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t?” Flip could see the amusement that danced in his eyes reflected in yours.
“I-“
“I like to watch you.” Flip said when it appeared that you weren’t going to come up with something.
“Me?”
Flip hummed and lifted his hand to stroke a single finger across your cheek. “Watching you brings me happiness.”
“Really?” Any other person would have been creeped out by his confession, but not you. You, subconsciously, chased the thrill that accompanied his admission. It was evident in the way you shifted your hips ever so slightly, angling them toward him in a desperate attempt to be delivered pleasure.
“I enjoy watching you, too.” You whispered. He wouldn’t have heard it if you had been anywhere else. Flip didn't even try to pretend to be bashful. A shit-eating grin grew on his face as satisfaction took over his entire being.
“Sometimes, I touch myself thinking about what’s hiding underneath that skirt.” Flip said.  Did your walls clench as you heard those words? Did your thighs quiver as you thought about him between them? Flip wanted nothing more than to bury his face in you and lap at your clit as if he was a man starved and dying, the elixir of life dripping out of only you.
“You do?”
“Haven’t been able to get you out of my head.” You were backing away from him now, but it was only to lean against the wall, needing something steady to ground yourself for fear that your knees would give out as Flip continued. “I think about what you would taste like, the moans you would let out, what you’d look like as you cum.”
This. This was blasphemy. But you didn’t want Flip to stop. You wanted him to say every filthy thing he’d ever thought and then whisper them in your ear again as his hands explored every uncharted crevice of your body.
You hadn’t even noticed him move but, suddenly, there he was. He crowded around you, caging you in between his arms as you pressed even further into the wall behind you, heart racing in your chest from the excitement bubbling within you.
It felt like hellfire spread all over your skin as his paw of a hand came in contact with the outside of your thigh for the first time. You thought it would consume you and burn you to the crisp, leaving you right there in a pile of ash so that whoever was unlucky enough to find you would know you’d sinned. Stricken down by the Lord’s anger for succumbing to Lucifer’s lust.
He just held it there, enclosing your thigh in a soft but firm hold. He wanted to claw at you, to claim you as his and his alone but he didn’t let that come across in his movements that were almost lazily caressing you. Up and down. Up and down the outside of your thigh.
It travelled under the hem of your dress as you held your breath, watching it disappear as it moved closer and closer to your most unfathomable place. You wanted to shout all your sounds of pleasure from the highest building for all to hear, thanking the Lord for delivering this brazen man to you, but you didn’t say anything. Not a sound made its way past your lips. Was it for fear of scaring him away? From scaring yourself? Admitting that you wanted him to touch you would, in your mind, mean that you gave in, you gave in to the carnal pleasures of man that you had spent so long withstanding. But how could it be so bad to want a simple touch? Surely, anyone in your position would also give in to the temptation of this mortal man.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” Flip cooed. “You want me to touch you here?” One lonesome finger trailed over your cloth-covered pussy, causing you to squirm against the wooden wall.
“Or do you want something else?” He withdrew his hands from you, placing them on either side of your head. “You want me to kiss you?” He wouldn’t have to move much to press his lips against your own. Flip was so close to your face that he could feel every soft exhale on his lips, his nose brushing against your own with every heave of his chest.
Flip pressed a kiss to your cheek, so close to your lips that you could almost taste him already; the tendrils of smoke and coffee that would mix and infuse your senses. You hoped he would taste like he smelled, absolutely divine.
It was your own head that turned to connect your lips. His lips were soft, pillowy, and completely sublime. Teeth knocked against each other as your eagerness took over and Flip chuckled. Never would he have thought that you would be this greedy for him this early on. He had hoped, of course, but it did not go beyond that. Isn’t it funny how in a sinful kiss, your most vulnerable moment, you had never before felt as pure as you did at that moment? It is a promise of realness, evidence of the primal desire that ignited a need deep inside of you.
Your hands came up to pull at his flannel shirt, using it to pull yourself closer to him in desperation, clinging to him. His lips were sweeter than anything you had ever tasted before, like the nectar of the gods, something you would crave throughout the rest of this life and the next.
Flip couldn’t help but let his hands run wide, up along your waist, brushing along the side of your breasts, and coming to cradle your neck. Such a simple touch yet it held all the power as he squeezed just enough for you to become breathless. He drew back to look at you for a moment.
“Tell me what you want.” He urged. It wasn’t enough for him to feel it through your actions, he wanted to hear you beg for his touch, for him.
“I don’t know.” So innocent.
“You do.” You stared up at him for a few beats of a moment, gnawing at that lip that he wished to pull at with his own teeth. You were hesitant as you grabbed a hold of his wrist, guiding it back to under the skirt of your dress and to the place that was aching for him.
Flip’s touch was electric as it travelled over the hem of your panties, fingering at it as you grew wetter and wetter from his teasing. He was watching your face for any sign of regret, but there was none, your eyebrows were already furrowed over the anticipation of more.
“You want me to touch you here, sweetheart?”
“Yes!” You said with a yelp and a startled hand came up to cover your mouth in surprise.
“You need to keep quiet if you want this.” Flip tutted with a shake of his head.
His hand slipped into your soaked panties, fingers easily finding your clit and circling it tightly a few times. The whines and moans that were released from you sounded heavenly, Flip thought ironically. His fingers left your clit, sliding them down just a bit further to feel your wetness.
“So wet for me already.” Flip groaned out. You were practically dripping for him as you writhed against his hand, craving a feeling you didn’t know. You felt like crying when his fingers left your sacred place, holding up his glistening finger to the light.
“Look at that.” Flip said, astonished.
Flip slipped the finger into your mouth, feeding it in and out as his thumb and middle finger pressed your cheeks together. You could taste yourself on your finger He couldn’t wait to get his cock in between those perfect lips, to watch you as you struggled to take him. Your tongue swirled around his index, coating it thoroughly before he withdrew it with a plop! It was glistening with wetness as he brought it back underneath your skirt to explore your folds for a short while longer before he slipped a finger inside of you.
“You’re so fucking tight, sweetheart.”
It was a foreign, unknown feeling that spread through you as he pushed in. You had never felt so full, and it was just a single finger. It was obvious from the hard bulge that was pressing against the side of your hip that his cock was much, much thicker.
Flip let you adjust for as long as he could, but the throbbing of your walls around his finger wasn’t good for his self-control. Eventually, he began pumping it in and out of you slowly. The moan that slipped out of you was low, erupting from the deepest, darkest parts of you.
“Yeah? You like that?” His hand hoisted your leg further up on his waist, spreading you open even more for him. “You want more? Think you can take it?”
You nodded your head desperately, words having forsaken you in the throes of pleasure.
Another finger joined the first as he pumped them in and out of you slowly enough so that he could feel every ridge of your walls but fast enough so that you were becoming completely breathless. You were so ready for him that the second finger stretched you easily.
You wanted to cry out as his thumb started rubbing over your clit, your walls clamped down hard around his finger at the new feeling, but he connected his mouth to yours just as it was about to drop open.
Flip kissed you like it was the last thing he was ever going to do. He was rough as he pressed his lips against yours, and you returned his hunger for you with your own for him. His tongue explored everything in its way as his hand continued pumping two fingers into you slowly.
A bubbling warmth was spreading through every nerve in your body. Your brain was in a haze, you were unable to focus on anything as the white-hot pleasure built inside of you.
Flip disconnected his lips from yours to watch you. You were a vision, and he couldn’t hold back anymore, the urgent need to see you cum taking over him. Flip started thrusting his fingers into you, causing you to squeal in surprise and claw at the wall behind you.
”Oh, God!”
”You shouldn’t utter God’s name in vain, sweetheart.” Flip chuckled teasingly. “Also, I thought I told you to be quiet.”
He was drilling into you so quickly you were sure you could see stars behind your eyes as he curled his fingers to hit just that right spot inside of you.
“Oh, Flip-” You moaned out breathily, slightly curling into yourself as waves of pleasure washed over you, your eyes falling shut. The loud sounds of the wet squelches of your pussy bounced around the small walls of the garden shed.
“Look at me!” He breathed out sharply. He needed to see your eyes and the emotions behind them as he thrust his fingers into you repeatedly. He needed to so you cum for him as you fell aperture completely for the first time.
It was hard to concentrate enough to open them, it took you a second to do it, right as you fell over the edge into rapture. Your legs shook uncontrollably as you came, and Flip had never seen a more angelic sight. He wanted to watch you like this for the rest of his life.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit.
He was the one that tasted you this time, suckling the nectar of you from his fingers and groaning over the taste of it.
”Taste so good, completely divine.” He sent you a wink as you watched him with wide eyes.
He had never seen you look so rattled, it would be clear to anyone that you had just been thoroughly ravaged from the uncharacteristically unkempt look of wrinkly clothes and hazy eyes.
“You okay?”
“Yeah…” Were you? You were unsure, but it was only because you yearned for more.
“Good.” Flip pressed another kiss to your lips, this one much sweeter than all the others.
Flip reluctantly left the shed to tend to the last bits of the gardening things. He wanted to do more, for both you and himself, but he knew that he needed to take his time. His cock was rock hard in his jeans as he drove home, throbbing in desperation as he replayed the face you made as you came. He could worship that sight for ages.
Flip let you simmer in your feelings after that. He wanted you to come to terms with the lust you felt for him in your own time. He wanted you to be the one that would come to him. It was hard for him... not touching you. It was so hard that he thought he must’ve found himself in hell on earth. He wanted to knead your supple thighs, to flick at your clit with his tongue, to watch your face twist in ecstasy as he sank into you for the first time.
“Just us?” Déjà vu? You appeared even more timid and shy this time than last, something he had not thought possible. You were reluctant to meet his eyes, that shy smile that you usually wore was gone without a trace.
“Yep, just us.” Your voice sounded strained, and your eyes avoided looking at him as they flickered around the garden, trying to find something, anything to distract you from him.
Flip made you nervous, he made shivers run down your spine in both the best and worst way. He had completely disrupted your life with his presence. He had tainted your thoughts, made the devil whisper unclean things in your ear as you laid awake in your bed at night, hand subconsciously drifting down to your clit to rub at it, but it was never enough; it was never the same. You craved his touch, the taste of his lips, the feeling of his cock pressed against you. You needed to know what it looked like, what it felt like inside of you, and it was a need that scared you.
You tried keeping your distance as you worked, but it was impossible. You could feel him everywhere you went, even when Flip wasn’t looking at you, nor you him, you could still feel his presence, hyper-aware of him wherever he was.
You almost felt nauseous as you felt him follow you into the church when you were done. It wasn’t that you feared him, you could never fear Flip, it was another Him whose judgement petrified you. However, you were obviously not fearful enough as you — lacking all taught self-constraint – turned around a flung yourself at him, lips locking with his.
Flip let out a startled but delighted hum as he stumbled back half-a-step in surprise.
“Have you missed me?” He teased, only being allowed to disconnect his lips from yours for the fraction of a second. That carnal urge was there again, taking over your limbs and propelling you towards him.
“I’m taking that as a yes.”
You had missed him. Of course, you had. It was hard not to miss him. Flip was the kind of person that you would always remember, no matter who you were. He was unforgettable, a distinctive memory of a spectacular person that would always be there, somewhere in the back of your mind. Forever.
His hands roamed over your body, touching, and caressing you everywhere he could as you tugged on his hands, his belt, the button and zipper of his jeans before reason finally caught up with you again and you wrenched yourself away from him.
“What is it?”
“We can’t do this – shouldn’t be doing this – it’s not right. God says-”
“I am your God.”
“You’re a man.”
“What’s the difference?” Flip tilted his head, watching you with genuine curiosity and a raised eyebrow.
You didn’t know what to say; your mouth fell open, but no words came out as your mind raced to find an answer. Was there truly a difference?
Someone once said that the gods envy us, and Flip, wholeheartedly, believed it to be true. The one God envies us, his creation, feeble humans. We live life side by side with thrill, with unforeseeable possibilities and opportunities that could end within a fraction of an instance. Every moment could be our last and God doesn’t have that privilege. He lives every day knowing that the end will never come; the inevitable salvation of oblivion will never reach him. Eternal life is a futile promise that is whispered in the ears of delusional fools as they devote their lives to a false god. God was simply a man skilled with dreams and distorted fantasies who Flip saw as nothing more than an equal – if even that.
“You can devote your life to me, and I assure you that I will bring you more happiness than He ever could.” His fingers were trailing up the inside of your thigh as he whispered into your ear. A small whine left you in an exhale as you tried to clench your legs together, tried to banish those dirty thoughts from your mind but it was impossible. Flip Zimmerman had infiltrated all your defences, broken down your walls, and riddled your mind with sinful thoughts. He was so close to dominating your being in every sense of the word.
“My father-”
“The preacher doesn't have to know, sweetheart. In fact, I think it’d be better if we kept this just between you and me, don’t you agree?” A kiss was placed right underneath your ear and another moan slipped out of you. The scent of him was everywhere, travelling like a mist over your skin, caressing your cheeks, and poisoning your mind so that the only thing you could think about was him.
“Yes...” Flip had a way of making you hazy when you were around him, of making you question everything you’d ever known just so that he would deliver that heaven-sent pleasure again and again.
And now, here you were, all alone in the house of God, ready to devote yourself to this impious man.
Your hands came back up to cradle his neck, pulling him back down to you so that you could kiss on him, love on him.
Somehow, the two of you made your way between the pews, Flip firmly guiding you to lay down on one of them as he kissed down your body and finally found his home with his head buried between your thighs.
You squirmed as he kissed his way up and down the inside of your thighs, his beard tickling your skin as you whined and sighed. He was so close, yet he was so far away from where you wanted him. You combed your hands through his hair, tugging at it in frustration, pulling a laugh from Flip as he slid your panties down your thighs, agonisingly slow, before pocketing them.
“You need to learn to be patient, my sweet.” Flip loved seeing you like this; it was a welcomed change.
“Now, thank the Lord and give me a Hail Mary.” Flip didn’t know much about Christianity, but he knows enough to know about the love for redemption and forgiveness that plagued the servants of Christ.
“What?” You sat up just enough so that you could see him leering at you, half of his face hidden by your dress and mound.
“You heard me, sweetheart.” He was teasing you, wanting to see you flustered, hear how you stuttered over your words as he pleasured you. Flip would be the only one you would pray to at the end of it all, but he would allow this just to humour himself. He was slowly becoming your everything, your one true god.
“Hail Mary…” His lips connected with your clit for the first time, and you were sure in that moment that you had entered through the pearly gates.
“Oh, Flip!” Your hands tightened in his hair as he lapped at your swollen clit. “Full o- of grace-e,” You stuttered out, trailing off as Flip sucked you into his mouth before flattening his tongue, dragging it through your soaked lower lips.
“I can’t hear you.” He taunted. He spread your legs wider, forcing them to stay in one place as the rest of your body writhed. His tongue probed at your entrance, slipping into you with little resistance. That nose you loved so much brushed against your sensitive clit with every stroke of his tongue.
“The Lord is with thee! Blessed- blessed art thou-u am-amongst women and blessed is… is the fru-uit of thy womb, Jesus!” Your back arched off the pew as that blinding heat raced through your body once more. Steadily building in your stomach before erupting, spewing flames everywhere.
“Amen!” You practically shrieked it as you came, eyes rolling back in your head and legs shaking as they tried to clamp shut.
“Amen.” Flip hummed in agreement, withdrawing from you, and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Your chest was heaving from your frantic breathing. There was an exhausted smile growing on your face, completely saturated with satisfaction and you couldn’t help but giggle quietly to yourself.
Flip couldn’t stop himself from pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. You moaned happily, opening your mouth when you felt his tongue swipe against your lower lip. Your hand came up to grasp at his shoulder, steadying your weak body.
“I want more.” You said as his kisses grew lazier.
“Greedy.” Flip wasn’t complaining, he was going to give you more, of course. He would always give you more if you wanted it.
He guided you, moving you from the narrow, wooden pew down to the cool stone floor. You were laying on display for him, right beneath the podium where your father would preach his sermon to the congregation, just as he did, every Sunday.
The sound of his belt coming completely undone bounced through the room. You were anxious for what was to come, not because of God or what he would think, but because this was your first time, just like any ordinary person would be.
Flip pushed down his pants just enough so that he could pull himself free from the confines, and you marvelled at the sight of his rock-hard cock. Your mouth salivated as you saw it pulse, the tip angrily red. He was weeping for you, pre-cum leaking out of the tip as he pulsed painfully. He fisted himself a couple of times with a groan.
Flip’s dick was so thick from head to base that he himself almost had a hard time wrapping his hand around it. It had just the right amount of curve that he knew he would be able to coax out a myriad of orgasms out of you.
“You look so pretty like this.” You really did. You were a sight that Flip himself could worship for the rest of his life; your legs having eagerly fallen open for him, pussy glistening in the light from how wet you were, and your sinfully innocent skirt pulled up around your waist as you clasped your hands in the fabric as if you were trying to steady your racing heart.
“Please, Flip, I need you.” You whimpered.
He stood on his knees before you. He felt powerful as he watched you on your back before him, leaking in desperation for his cock.
“Tell me how much you want it.” He tilted his head.
“More than anything, God, please, Flip!” Who was he to keep you from this? A man who was more than God would be merciful and
“You need to stop pleading to God, sweetheart, He’s not gonna help you.” Flip spread your legs just a bit wider before wrapping his hand around the base of his cock lining himself up with your entrance. He made sure to coat himself thoroughly in your wetness, dragging the head of him through your soaked folds.
You gasped at the first feeling of him as he prodded at your entrance. You rutted your hips upward, hoping that he would just finally slide in. The angels and all of Colorado Springs surely had to hear your cries of pleasure as he finally pushed in, all the way to the base of him, bottoming out as the tip of him nestled against your cervix ever so lightly.
This is what you were created for, only this and nothing else.
You adjusted to him quickly, hands coming to grasp at his hips, urging him to move. Small traces of pain tainted the incomprehensible pleasure that washed over you, but you couldn’t stop now. You didn’t want to stop now.
Flip didn’t keep a slow pace for long, replacing the long and languid pumps he had started off with for harsher thrusts into you.
“You like that, sweetheart?”
“Yes, oh fuck, harder!” Your head lulled to one side, hands clawing at his back as if you wanted to be even closer to him than you already were.
Flip had you right where he wanted you. The preacher’s daughter getting stuffed to the brim with his thick cock on the floor in the Lord’s house, safely under the watchful eyes of the man on the cross and your father in heaven.
“Look up at your God as you sin, see how he watches over you while I’m fucking you, while you're begging me to fuck you.” He pushed your head to the side, his hand pressing your cheeks together so that you would focus on the deity before you; the man who had sacrificed his own life for yours.
A particularly rough thrust into you made you cry out even louder causing Flip to stop abruptly.
“Sweetheart, as much as I love every single fucking sound that comes out of you, you need to keep quiet.” Despite there not being anything scheduled, anybody could come in at any moment, it was an open church, after all, free for the public to come and pray as they wanted.
Those hands of God ran down your body, sliding over your sweetest places and rubbing against your most sensitive areas as Flip pounded into you. He was so deep inside of you that you barely knew what to do with yourself.
You couldn’t keep quiet, no matter how hard you tried moans still slipped past your lips and Flip was eventually forced to quiet you with his hand over your mouth.
Your walls were clenched so tightly around him, drawing him deeper and deeper inside.
“Fuck” You groaned. “Feels so- fucking good.” You shakily breathe out.
“Yeah? Do you love it when I pump my cock into you?” Flip cooed as he asked, slowing down just slightly, but each thrust was still sharp, still precise, and hard, and calculated, rotating his hips just enough to hit that special spot inside of you.
A breathy yes! left your lips.
“More.” You demanded.
He pulled out so just his tip was left in you, waiting there for just a second before slamming back into you again, buried to the hilt. The groan Flip let out sent tingles down your spine and caused you to clench even tighter around him, triggering another moan from him.
“If only you knew how fucking good you feel, sweetheart.” Flip praised, followed by another harsh rut into you.
He continued pumping into your sweet cunt, drawing moans from you that were filthy, thoroughly fucking you into the cold stone floor. The sound of his balls slapping against you every time he thrust into you was driving you insane.
His thrusts had picked up in pace once again, ruthless and reckless as he fucked deeper and deeper into you. You were trembling against him, breath hitching and getting caught in your chest as you almost forgot how to breathe. You could feel your release mounting quickly once again, shockwaves gripping your body and rolling through you with every buck into you.
“Say my name.”
“What?” You weren’t lucid enough to possibly begin to understand what he meant at that moment.
“Say my name.” He repeated, making sure to punctuate every single word with a small thrust upward to meet you as you came down on him. “And make sure He hears you.” Caution had left Flip, abandoned him in the heat of the moment. He thought that the congregation needed to hear the beauty that was his name falling from your lips.
His name spilt out of your mouth just a few seconds later in the form of a half-strangled moan.
“Louder.”
“Flip!” You shouted his name as you finally came, tumbling over the edge as stars were painted behind your eyelids. Your legs were shaking, spasming, through the waves, words of gibberish leaving your mouth as he made you babble like a brook. Legs shaking, blood rushing in your ears, and your heart thumping painfully in your chest as it contracted. Flip hadn’t even faltered in his movements, fucking you through your orgasm, continuing to pump into you as he chased his own climax. You could just barely make out his own groans in your ear as he bounded and leapt closer to the edge.
It did not matter to Flip what anyone else could – or possibly would – say about the two of you. He was meant to spend the rest of his earthside life between your thighs.
You hadn’t felt this way before, you didn’t even know you could feel this way; the overwhelming stimulation that was rushing through your blood, lighting your nerves on fire, making you want to stay right there, until kingdom come.
Flip delivered a sweet pleasure that sent you oscillating between heaven and earth, torn between life and something other.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Flip grunted as he watched himself disappear inside of your body over and over again.
“Want you to come inside of me.” Flip had successfully turned you into a wanton whore, desperate for his seed to taint you, and he did. He came deep inside of you, hips continuing to pump into you as he made sure that you got received every single last drop of him. He would now and for always be with you in every step you took, dripping out of you in your memories.
In Flip’s mind, God is beneath him; he is inferior because he forbids the very thing that makes you human – the harmless pleasure that hides underneath swinging skirts and in between loins.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit; as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever.
Amen.
Masterlist (+ Link to my taglist)
920 notes · View notes
strawberry-whorecake · 10 months
Photo
Tumblr media
🎲 Charlie Barber x Female Reader   ⚠️  babysitter/client relationship, age difference (reader 18), inappropriate use of Scrabble tiles, hand kink, Daddy, cunnilingus, p in v ✏️ 3k words -
Henry’s been asleep since before Charlie got home.
Since putting him to bed, you’ve managed to put away almost all of the night’s activities and start the dishwasher. You’re heading into the living room, sights set on picking up the game of Scrabble (in which Henry insisted ‘gleeba’ is a word) when the front door opens.
“Hey, Mister Barber,” you greet from the floor as you slide the tiles from your letter racks onto the board.
He approaches with a smile on his face and stands over you—tall, towering, his hands on his hips. You swallow and continue tossing tiles onto the board so you can more easily funnel them back into their bag.
“Wanna play?” Charlie asks. “Or do you need to get home?”
Even as he asks the question, he takes a seat on the floor, clearly confident in what your response will be. 
He’s right.
“I can play,” you say, dumping the tiles onto the carpet as Charlie flips them with thick fingers. 
Desperately attempting to focus on anything that isn’t those hands, you spend an unnecessarily long amount of time straightening his wooden tile rack, ensuring it’s perfectly placed. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you catch his two massive palms covering practically all of the tiles as he swirls them around, mixes them up, and you stop breathing when your own fingers graze his.
You choose seven wooden blocks. 
“Ladies first,” he says with a smile, voice so deep, it shakes your core. You place your tiles across the star to play ‘CATCH,’ and then take five tiles to replace them.
Charlie keeps score, tallying up your points for you on the pad. 
Such a dad.
“How was your meeting tonight?” you ask so you have an excuse to look at his face. 
He shrugs, face laced with concentration as he anticipates his next move. 
“Fine. Boring.” 
You smile. “Hopefully this is a bit more titillating.” 
Charlie looks up at you. His eyes fall to your chest as he considers your word choice and you clench as your heart rate speeds up. 
“It definitely is, Sweetheart,” he says, voice deep, as he returns his own focus to the letters in front of him. 
You’d been babysitting Henry since you were 16, even before Charlie and Nicole broke up. Conveniently enough, you live in the apartment above them and over the years, you’d grown attached to Henry. He’s smart and funny, he always remembers you and doesn’t need Charlie to reintroduce you. And he’s a good kid, easy to hang out with. You never mind canceling plans to help out the Barbers. 
Well, to help out Mr. Barber.
Besides, Charlie pays incredibly generously and as you’ve gotten older, you’ve come to appreciate everything about him: his size, his demeanor, the way he’s such a dedicated father. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the way you catch him staring at you since you’ve turned 18.
You know you shouldn’t have a crush on the man who pays you to watch his son. You should be interested in guys your own age but… there’s something about your 6’4” client whose hands appear as though they could wrap around your entire waist in one go. And you’ve tried to think of anyone else with your bedroom door locked, and your tiny fingers between your legs–like the captain of the football team, or the guy who sits behind you in Calc, but Mr. Barber always worms his way into your thoughts right as you’re about to come. 
Charlie plays the word ‘VEIN’ and you can’t help but clench at the sight of his own veins rolling over his knuckles as his hand flexes, the tendons straining when he reaches for his pencil to document his score. 
“Sweetheart?” he asks in a tone that implies he’d been trying to get your attention for a while. “Are you okay?” 
You can’t tear your eyes off of his hand as you apologize.
“It’s okay.” He smiles, his perfectly crooked teeth peeking out from behind his plush, pink lips.
When you look up at him, his eyes flick up to meet yours, his features laced with guilt as you catch him staring at your chest again. 
Then you play ‘WIDE.’ 
As you reach to place your tiles, you bend a little further than necessary, so more cleavage is revealed to his clearly hungry gaze. 
He inhales sharply. 
“We could uh… we could make this more fun,” he says. “If you want.”
“Okay,” you say immediately. “I want.”
Charlie swallows, looks you up and down, his gaze scorching as he takes in your tiny denim shorts. 
“Whoever plays the lower scoring word for the round… removes an article of clothing.” 
It’s always warm in his apartment, so it’s not like you have a ton of clothes on to begin with, but you nod anyway, and you’re not sure if he purposely plays a word that scores him lower than yours, but he slips his cardigan off his shoulders without prompting and you smirk. 
The following round, he’s delighted when ‘CLOSE’ earns him 24 points. 
You arch an eyebrow. 
“Shirt.” His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it, eyes dark and focused. He watches you cross your arms at the hem of your shirt and he inhales deeply as you tug it up and over your head, revealing your lace bralette. It’s not completely see-through, but your nipples ache and are desperate for attention. They’re clearly visible as they strain beneath the fabric. 
The second round goes to you and you memorize everything about the way his fingers undo the buttons of his shirt. You’re disappointed to see he has an undershirt on. He chuckles when you pout. 
The next round goes to you as well and unfortunately, you have to waste this win on his shoes, but he throws you a bone and takes his socks off as well. 
The letters you pick up are less than stellar and when it’s your turn again, you mindlessly drag your ‘W’ Scrabble tile across the bare skin of your chest while you survey the board. 
“Fuck,” Charlie mutters under his breath as he shifts his weight and you’d noticed the bulge in his slacks earlier but it must be uncomfortable for him now because he rearranges his long legs for the third time in the past minute. 
Still, he plays a word that scores him 21 points and his eyes unabashedly shift from your chest to your shorts, and back up to your chest as he considers his options. 
“Bra.” You take a deep breath in and bite your lip as you tug the bralette up and slip your arms out of it, your breasts dropping out of the lace. 
His expression is caught somewhere between pain and hunger as he devours your bare tits with his eyes. He sees you squirm where you sit, attempting to grind your center on the floor but it’s not the right angle, and it’s not enough. So you play your turn and win the round. You want his undershirt off desperately but you take pity on him and request his pants, his erection now so painfully obvious; it must be throbbing. 
Unfortunately, your replacement letters contain no vowels and your options on the board are extremely limited, so when he scores higher than you on the next round, you both know what it means. 
His eyes are on your tiny fingers working the button of your shorts after you’ve stood up but your hands are shaking so violently, you struggle. 
“Let me, Princess,” he says, walking toward you on his knees. 
He’s so tall, he’s eye-level with your chest. He nudges your legs apart before hooking his fingers into the waistband on either side and freezes, looks up at you. You nod, head moving half an inch but it’s all the permission he needs before his mouth wraps around one hard nipple, and his hands tug at your tiny shorts. 
You whimper as he pulls them down your thighs, his mouth siphoning at your tit like he’s sucking a milkshake through a straw, and your panties get hooked with the denim. 
You don’t even realize it’s happening until Charlie pulls off of you to say, “fuck it, I’m taking this, too,” and yanks your thong down as well, leaving you completely bare in front of him. 
“Fuck,” he whispers, free hand climbing up the inside of your thigh. “Fuck, you’re so perfect. So gorgeous. So grown up now, aren’t you?” You nod as his finger reaches the apex of your thighs. 
You shift your weight back and forth as he strokes your folds, teases the creases between your sex and thighs.
“Mister Barber,” you whimper.
“Is this okay, Princess?” he asks.
You nod. “More.”
He smirks, but applies a bit of pressure and slides that finger through your folds. You can’t help but moan as his thick digit glides effortlessly through your soaked flesh, over your entrance and up toward your clit.
“So goddamn wet. This pussy. Fuck, Princess.” 
He gathers some of your arousal onto his fingertip and brings it to your clit. Once slick, he circles the throbbing nub a few times, earning gasps and moans from you. Your hands flail, desperately seeking purchase on his head, his shoulders, anything. 
“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He presses his finger to your entrance and slips it inside to the middle knuckle with ease. “Anyone ever touch you like this, Honey?” 
You nod slowly. 
“Yeah?” he asks. “Bet they didn’t make you feel like I can… will you let me, Sweetheart? Let me show you how good I can make you feel?” 
You nod. 
“Say yes, Baby Girl. I need you to tell me.” 
“Yes,” you say immediately, walls clenching around his finger. “Please, more.” 
He curls his finger forward toward your front wall and you gasp as pleasure shoots through your system. Then, he adds a second finger. 
He pumps them slowly, testing you, watching your face contort to see how much you can take. You groan when he withdraws his fingers, but you get a good look at them when he lifts them to your face. 
“Look how wet you are for me, Princess,” he says, painting your bottom lip with your own arousal. 
You allow both fingers into your mouth when he prods and you moan as you taste yourself, suck your juices off of him. 
Then, you grab his wrist, holding his hand in place so your tongue can make figure eights around and through his digits. 
Damn, you never knew that fingers could taste so good, that their weight on your tongue could feel like this, that sucking them deeper into your mouth could cause a surge of arousal to flood your already soaked center. 
“You like this, Baby Girl? You like sucking Daddy’s fingers?”
Your knees nearly give out at that. You’d always wanted to say it, to call someone that but… most boys your age hardly want to be called ‘Babe,’ let alone ‘Daddy.’
But it fits him so well, you decide, as this fantasy knocks you off balance. 
Charlie sits back on the floor and beckons you down with him using those fingers, until you’re straddling his lap and he lets you continue to suck as his opposite hand plays with your tits. He massages them, squeezes them, holds them in his hand and makes them bounce. You moan when he pinches a nipple and gasp when he twists it. 
The ache between your legs is unbearable. It doesn’t help that your legs are spread open so you can’t even rub your thighs together in the way you usually do when you see Mr. Barber. 
“Atta girl,” he coos, bringing your free hand to the bulge in his boxer-briefs. “You like sucking on Daddy’s fingers, huh?” 
You nod, let your eyes fall shut as you hollow out your cheeks. “Will you do that while you let me fuck you, Baby Girl?”
You whine as he pries his fingers from your reluctant mouth and he chuckles. 
“You’ll get them back, Princess. I could never deny you.” 
He pulls his own shirt off and you marvel at his chest—the hard muscles and sheer width of him. His soft tummy bulges slightly over the waistband of his boxer briefs and brings you a sense of comfort you can’t explain and didn’t even know you needed.
His broad shoulders flex under your gaze and he smirks. Charlie keeps you in his lap as he maneuvers his boxer-briefs down and grips your waist so tight, his long fingers nearly wrap entirely around you. 
“So beautiful,” he whispers, tilting his head up and capturing your lips with his. You moan as he squeezes you harder and thrusts his tongue into your mouth. 
You feel him, hard and thick beneath you. You want to see it, but your bodies are pressed too closely together. You feel too small in his embrace, too powerless to make any decisions for the two of you.
“Mister B-” you whisper-whine before stopping yourself and moaning, “Daddyyyyy…”
“Shh, Baby Girl, I promise I’ll take good care of you, okay?” he coos and you nod. “Trust me.” 
And you do. He lifts you slowly, until he’s lined up at your entrance. 
“Please tell me you’re on birth control.” 
“I am,” you breathe and he releases a sigh of relief as he lowers you onto him slowly. “Ahh,” you gasp as he stretches you out, pressing kisses to your chest and throat to distract you from any discomfort. 
“Sweetheart, you’re—“
He doesn’t finish his train of thought. Just lifts you up off of him and you groan as he falls out. 
“Daddy,” you whine as he sets you down on the scrabble board and pushes you back.
Charlie hovers over you and kisses you while one of his massive hands explores the curves of your body. You feel so vulnerable, spread open on his living room floor like this. 
Kissing his way down your body, he pays extra attention to your breasts—sucking, kissing, licking at your nipples until they’re soaked and pointed. 
“Daddy!”
Continuing south, Charlie positions your legs, spreads them the way he wants them and licks a stripe up your cunt experimentally and without warning. 
“Yes, Princess?” he asks coyly. His hand appears between your legs. 
Your back arches involuntarily as he licks your clit, and explores your folds with his tongue. Scrabble tiles dig into your back as you squirm and Charlie reaches up to pin you with a forearm across your hips. 
You nearly scream his name as his tongue works you and he covers your mouth with a massive hand. 
“Kid’s asleep,” he reminds you, but you hardly hear him when you grab his wrist and take two of his fingers into your mouth. 
As you suck them, he sucks on your clit, his siphons matching your pace until you’re moaning, lips vibrating against his knuckles as your climax builds.
No one’s ever done this for you before. Sure, you’d made yourself come, but the boys you’d fooled around with probably couldn’t even point to your clit, let alone know how to tease it and suck at it. 
Back arching, heart pounding, Scrabble tiles jabbing, you thrash across the floor and board as your orgasm wreaks havoc through your system, shakes you to your core. 
“Good girl,” he praises, lifting his head off of you. He wipes his soaked mouth and chin on your inner thigh, your hip bone, your ribs, like a dog rubbing its scent, marking its territory. 
“You came so well for me, Baby Girl. So good, so fucking good.” 
Charlie wraps one of your pliant legs around his waist and you do everything in your power to tighten your muscles and hold it there for him while he enters you for a second time, filling you completely, but this time, it’s so much better. 
“Fuck, oh my god, I-” 
“Shh,” he tells you again, covering your mouth and refusing to allow you to pull it away. He buries his head in the crook of your neck as he thrusts hard and fast into you, the Scrabble tiles nearly cutting your back open. 
“Fuck, you’re so tight still. Fuck, such a perfect pussy. Can’t believe you’re letting me fuck you,” he babbles as his hips snap against yours. 
The friction of his thick cock rubbing mercilessly against your stretched walls renders you unable to think, let alone speak. Whiney babbles escape from between your lips as your body rocks back and forth with the force of his thrusts, your tits jiggling, and legs hardly able to remain locked around his waist.
Your back can only lift so much with his weight over you but as he grinds into you, a second orgasm rakes through your system, waves of pleasure coursing through your body as his thrusts grow sloppy and he spills into you, hitting you hard and deep as he comes. His hand slides off your mouth and he plants it on the floor to lift himself off of you. 
“Fuck,” he breathes looking down at your naked body. “That was perfect, Baby Girl. You’re amazing.” He kisses your neck. “You were so good for me.” 
You accept his lips when he leans up to kiss you. 
“Are you okay?” he whispers, nudging your nose with his. 
“Yeah, I just…” you maneuver your hand behind your back and pluck a Scrabble piece jabbing your shoulder blade. “Maybe round two can be in your bed?” 
“Round two?” Charlie asks with an eyebrow arched. 
“Of Scrabble. After all, we didn’t get to finish our first game,” you tease with a coy smile before dropping your voice, looking up at him through your lashes and whispering, “Daddy.”
Charlie growls before whisking you away to his bed. 
Your clothes somehow make it to the room, but the disheveled Scrabble board remains in the middle of the living room floor.
445 notes · View notes
Text
The third night | Professor!Remus x student!fem!reader
summary: Remus is infatuated with his flirty student and he can't help acting on his feelings.
tw: smut (+18), slight innocence kink, curse words, (legal) age gap, maybe some grammar mistakes...? (english is not my first language).
word count: 6.5k
a/n: hi! so, i'm new here, this is the first harry potter imagine i've ever written so i'm sorry if something is innaccurate :) it's all in remus' pov and i'm sorry for the title, i suck at those.
Tumblr media
Tonight, it will be the third night. The third night that she would come around my office with the excuse of wanting a book recommendation or finishing an optional essay about muggle magic. There is no sure way of knowing that she will come around, just my interpretation of her subtle actions.
The day before the first night, she let her hair down; something unusual in her. Anyone that would look at her like I do, would have easily noticed that she hated having hair in her face while taking notes. If they’d look close enough, they could also notice the little pout and frowned eyebrows she paints in her beautiful face when she doesn’t understand something of the lecture. Probably more than one horny teenager in the classroom could notice that. She’s the center of it all without noticing it. They could never notice the mole in her lips though. Only someone so infatuated with her could notice something as subtle as that; someone like me. She is also a star pupil, my star pupil. Which is why I wasn’t that surprised to see her in my office asking for a daunting and dark novel to read before bedtime. What took me by surprise was the hour she came by.
At 10 o’clock sharp she opened the door of my office without knocking and poked her head into the room letting the hair fall on her shoulders. She was still wearing her uniform and with a smile asked me if she could come in. I could never say no to her, and I didn’t. Those big green eyes never looked in my direction while she asked me for a book from my muggle collection, they were too busy examining every little detail of my dim office, staring curiously at my old record player. I got up and walked towards my bookshelf. She just stayed there quiet fiddling with the ends of her skirt; this time, paying close attention to my movements. I hesitated on approaching her and laying in her delicate hands my used edition of Frankenstein, but, at the end, I decided it was more professional to leave it on my desk for her to grab. She impatiently reached for the book before my calloused hand left it on the piece of furniture and knowingly grazed my fingers with hers. I could feel my heart drop to my stomach. I looked at her eyes and faked an amicable smile, like I wasn’t in need of air. She was flushed looking at the scars in my face while withdrawing her hand slowly. Her school blouse was slightly loose and for a fraction of second I could delight my sight with the way a delicate white brassiere cupped her small breasts. I removed my line of sight as quickly as I could, to try and not scare her off. She looked at my eyes and with nothing more than a shy smile and a muffled ‘thanks’ she left my headquarters. Closing my eyes in frustration, I moved one hand to rest on the bulge in my pants trying to alleviate my desire with the thought of her pinching her nipples over the brassiere.
Four days after, she wore makeup to class. A pinkish shine covered her lips resembling honey and the long eyelashes were darkened with some paint. That day, being the lecture specially challenging for the 7th year students, she bit her lip in confusion when I introduced a new term leaving my mouth dry. The sun was violently trespassing the windows leaving the classroom damp and hot. In the practice bit of the lesson, she raised her hand so I would approach and help her. Cleaning off the sweat accumulated on my moustache with my hand I walked slowly towards her table; her essence invaded me when I crouched down to level her angelic face. It was difficult to maintain concentrated on the question since some of her makeup was smudged on the edges of her eyes. My mind couldn’t help but picture her below me with the same sweaty face, ruined mascara, and worried frown; just not asking any silly question, simply moaning. I shook my head slightly before hardly answering her doubt about the practice. After a moment of silence, she nodded understandingly and gifted me a smirk before turning her attention to the piece of paper in her desk.
That night I didn’t have any essays to correct, but I stayed in my office anyways because I had the suspicion she would come again. And I was right. This time she knocked, and her makeup was not smeared; I was under the impression she had just put it on.
“I almost finish Frankenstein. Allow me to say, I’m growing fond of the monster, professor Lupin.” she said with a mischievous smile.
“I never expected for you to read it that fast, Y/n. I’m glad you are enjoying it. Why is that you’ve grown fond of Frankentein’s monster? He has done terrible things and he is not even human. Monstrosities are not as worthy of forgiveness like men are, don’t you think?”
There it was, that beautiful frown of hers. In the pupil of her eyes, I could see a bonfire start before answering me decidedly.
“He can love, so he is human and therefore, worthy of forgiveness. Professor Lupin, I hope that comment was to make me meditate on the novel and the development of its characters, and not to impose your opinion.” Bratty girl.
“Don’t worry Miss Y/l/n, I’m not trying to enforce my outlook onto you. I’m just challenging you to judge from all the sides of the story.” I cleaned the clammy hands on my trousers.
Her features relaxed and when she slowly swallowed, I knew I succeeded into calming the beast. She had always been like that, just not with me. This was a new one. I could see her, and hear her, debating with her peers in free periods. She carried a fire within her that only a few could resist without sweltering. After taking a few discrete puffs of air she walked slowly towards my desk with a hand behind her. When her thighs were pressed to the edge of the table, she took her hand out of her hiding place and, with it, a parchment.
“I decided to write the optional essay about muggle practice of witchcraft” I opened my mouth to say it wasn’t necessary, she already had the Outstanding on all assignments, but she got ahead of me “I know I don’t need the mark, I just… felt like doing it.”
That was also a new one. Yes, she did exceptional on every activity and exam, she was brilliant, but she would’ve never done an essay just for the joy of it. Lost in thought, I didn’t notice she had leaned slightly on my desk laying the parchment on top of my current reading, right in front of me. Just like on Monday, she was wearing her school uniform. This time, I could notice a delicate gold chain hanging from her neck; far behind, a cotton brassiere with small cherries. I looked into her eyes once again, she smiled at me but didn’t move.
Trying to diffuse the tension, I got up and loosened my tie. Walking towards the window, far from her heat, I asked her what type of teenage girl she was to spend a Friday night handing out an essay she didn’t need to do to pass.
“An interesting one, professor.”
When I turned around, she was faintly sitting on my desk, both hands supporting her weight behind her. Her hair, now in a lazy ponytail, revealed me the softness of her neck. Close to her jawline I detected a light brown mole, one I hadn’t seen before. I almost melted into the thought of licking from her adorned collarbone to her ear, lovingly biting the last one.
“Of that, I have no doubt Miss Y/l/n.” I swallowed my desires while approaching her “Did you need anything else? I wouldn’t want you to spend your start of the weekend wearied in here discussing about the moralities of Frankenstein’s monster’s story”. I clearly didn’t want her to leave. If it were by me, I would spend the whole night discussing that or any topic she would find interesting. But it was not that late this time, any other professor could barge in and be not-so-pleasantly surprised by the interaction.
“No, professor. Just wanted to hand out my essay.” She seemed to have no intention to move from her place. “You have a rather lovely and warm office; I dare to say”. She turned her face to me and scanned me shamelessly from my worn-out leather shoes to my disheveled hair.
After hearing some distant shuffling on the other side, I passed by her side, inhaling her perfume —today stronger than ever—, and reached the handle to open the wooden door, afraid someone were to find us. “Thank you very much, Y/n. But it’s getting late. I wouldn’t want my star pupil to get a detention for not obeying the curfew”
Surprisingly relaxed she walked toward the door and stop just right in front of me. She maintained her eyes on mine with a silly smile and when I raised my eyebrows trying to encourage her to spit her thoughts, she mimicked me. I let slip a small smirk. One of her hands slowly reach for my arm and used the support to stand on tiptoe. Her lips grazed my rough cheek delicately leaving the softest kiss I’ve ever received from someone.
“Good night, Professor Lupin.” She finally said inches from my face.
After that, she turned around abruptly and outed the classroom in a hurried pace, without looking behind. I didn’t even have the time to object to her sweet action. I closed the door and slide until I got to the floor. She was going to kill me. What did that kiss even mean? Does she want me like I want her, or it’s just a silly teenage urge? The cheek where she left imprinted her plumped lips was burning hot and I couldn’t help to touch myself right there, in the floor of my office, with the fantasy of her hands all over my body and her lips all over my face.
I barely saw her the whole weekend. I imagine the quidditch game and massive amounts of homework were to blame for that. The only remarkable encounter we had was when our eyes found themselves in the Great Hall for dinner, on Saturday. She smiled at me knowingly while drinking from her goblet. I kept studying her while she talked to her friends, never looking back at me again. I was bewitched by her; I almost gave myself away when I let scape a small chuckle at her disastrous way of eating the blueberry pie. I felt the air leave my lungs and not comeback at her action of licking the excesses of marmalade from her fingers. She almost looked innocent if it weren’t for the revealing top she was wearing. I could see the outline of her breasts from my seat, and I couldn’t wait to get to my dorm to picture myself feeding her that pie.
Using this as an incentive I waited for her on Monday, but she didn’t come, either my class or office. Worried by her absence I eavesdropped next to her close group of friends. She was sick, a common cold from the quidditch game. That explains why her third innuendo didn’t come until Thursday afternoon, when I encountered her on my way to return some books to Ms. Pince.
“Good afternoon, Professor Lupin. Are you heading to the library?”
“Good afternoon, Y/n. Yes, I am.” I nodded and smiled at her direction. She looked radiant, like she just hadn’t been two days blowing snot and drinking chamomile tea.
“Perfect, me too. I’ll come along if you don’t mind” I clearly didn’t so we started walking in comfortable silence. Her left arm was occupied with two big books protected by a leather cover; but you’ll see, her right arm was free, hanging dangerously close to mine, grazing it every time the wind blew between our bodies. “My father is very passionate about music, professor. He sent me a vinyl of some artist called Mazzy Star, are you familiar with her music by any chance?”
“Yes, I am a fan myself in fact. They are a band, Y/n though.” I responded strangely delighted.
“Mmm, I figured you’d knew about it. I mean, with all the things you’ve got in your office I managed to spot some vinyls.” She ignored my correction and looked at me just when we made a turn into a darker corridor “I was wondering, since you have a record player, if I could use it to listen the album.” She innocently batted her eyelashes, knowing that way I could never say no.
“Yeah, of course, whenever you want.” I responded with a nod on my throat, I knew what she was doing.
“Oh! Thanks Professor Lupin! Not just any day you find someone in the magical world with a record player.” And she also knew, what she was doing.
“It’s no problem.”
I froze when, before entering the library, in a childish outburst she hugged me as a form of gratitude. When she separated from me, she turned around to open the door; the impulse forced her to give a step back sticking her backside to my front. I touched heaven. She stayed there motionless for longer than expected, until finally decided to go inside to meet her friends, without even turning around to look at me. She had me wrapped around her finger.
Today she showed up in my class with ears adorned with beautiful pearls. Pearls held by the most subtle piece of rough gold that shined against the reflection the sun formed in the window. She seated on the first row, at my right, and with restless legs looked at me the whole lesson like she was thirsty. This time she didn’t ask any questions. When the lecture was over, she slowly got up from her chair without accommodating her skirt and, leaving the parchment in my desk, she gave me the eyes. I have been given that face many times in my life: after four beers in a dark closeted bar, during late night encounters, and even here, in Hogwarts, in my golden years. But hers, was like nothing I’d seen before. Those green eyes fueled with intensity made something move inside of me, and I couldn’t help to return her an unprofessional smirk —that she politely accepted. That was my sign, that she would come tonight.
Tonight, after dinner, I changed my shirt and trimmed my moustache. When I was changing my undershirt, I saw myself in the mirror with disgust. What am I doing? Y/n is my student, even if she is already of age —something I remember clearly because the day of her birthday she wore the most beautiful floral dress to diner— it’s wrong of me to think she would ever want me. Not only because of the power dynamic we are already in, but because I’m damaged and used. The scars on my body show I’m careless and the wrinkles around my eyes that I’m age worn.
So, in my office I stood, cleaning my old record player, with hateful thoughts eating my head alive. Reason enough to not hear her come through the door without knocking.
“Good night, Professor Lupin.” She startled me with the sweetest tone.
“Good night, Y/n.” I could barely believe what my eyes witnessed: she was standing there all dressed in white, like an angel sent by heaven. By this point all negative thoughts erased from my mind and I found myself speechless, although I wasn’t sure if she could see that. Her lip biting told me yes, she did notice.
“I brought the album.” She lifted it up and I read the title: So Tonight That I Might See. Smiling I extended my hand. She gave me the vinyl lengthening her fingers to try and touch me.
“I have one exactly like this one under all that rubbish in those boxes.” I pointed with my head to the corner “Your father has really good taste.” She chuckled and we immersed in silence while I placed the vinyl in the record player. The first song started, and I turned around to look at her. ‘Angelical’ I thought.
“I love it” she said closing her eyes and starting to swing. I wanted to hold her, kiss her and dance with her. She’s so naïve and fresh, like goofy slap in the face.
Leaning in my old bookshelf I admired her moving figure with an inevitable smile plastered in my face. She danced with such delicacy I can’t explain. She half-opened her green eyes and looked me defiantly, challenging me to accompany her. I detoured my line of sight to the books on my right; I don’t know what would happen to me if I followed her game, my heart would consume itself. An intrusive thought suggested maybe the hearts would consume with each other in an intense beautiful love, but I knew that would probably never happen. Ignoring my faked disinterest, she approached me grabbing my hand.
“Won’t you dance professor?”
“No, sorry. I’m too old for that” her hand stayed firmly on mine.
“Oh, come on! You are not an old rag yet Lupin.” I raised my eyebrows surprised by the using of my last name “I bet you still know how to have fun.” There they were again, the eyes.
We stayed looking at each other for a whole minute, while the second song finished. Her stillness allowed me to examine her delicate face closely. I went from her hairline where various rebel baby hairs rested; her eyebrows, cautiously brushed, were slightly tense; those big green eyes were nailed on the scar crossing my mouth and her long eyelashes where once again darkened; her soft cheeks, decorated by two delicate beauty marks, were noticeably blushed imitating the color of her filled lips, the speck in them more noticeable than before; in her chin a small pimple, probably caused by school stress, was covered with makeup. I came back to her eyes passing by her lips and she still had that look on her.
“Don’t look at me like that Y/n.” I enquired annoyed.
“Like what, Remus?” She knew exactly what she was doing using my first name. I sighed in frustration, and I let go of her hand to rub my face.
“Like you want me to kiss you on the mouth.” I responded bluntly removing the hand from my eyes.
“And what if I indeed want you to do that?” she whispered. Agile like a cat she slowly got closer to me, resting her arm on my shoulder, and barely grazing the hair on my nape. I closed my eyes trying to control my impulses, but when I felt her breath on my chin, I ducked my head down and brushed my lips against hers “We can’t.” I whispered.
Ignoring my comment, she pushed her head against mine, resting her soft lips on my rough ones. I had never received a kiss that subtle. She opened her mouth unsure and when I deepened the kiss, I couldn’t help but move my left hand into the locks of her hair and lie my right one on her waist. Falling into rhythm she eagerly slipped her tongue into my mouth. I grabbed her head decidedly to stable myself and pressed her back to the bookshelf; her hips looked for mine, so I complied into her, pressing the fabrics together. I separated momentarily to take some air and give her the chance to retract in case she’d realized this isn’t what she wanted, but it was her who pulled me in again; this time, grabbing the collar of my stripped shirt. My left hand still into the depths of her silky hair caressed her, making her slip a beautiful moan from her lips, softer than I could ever conceive on any of my fantasies. She started moving her hips tauntingly looking for a friction that was only satisfied when her center was met with my thigh. The smallest whimper woke me up from the trance. I opened my eyes and separated from her quickly, turning my back on her.
“No, Y/n. This is wrong, you should leave to your dorm.”
“Remus,” she reached for my arm trying to turn me around “it’s not wrong, I want this, and you clearly want it too. I’m not dumb, I know what you think when you look at me” I peeked her flushed self from behind my shoulder.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, you’re too young to know what you want. Besides, that I think about kissing you, doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do. Don’t be a simple-minded hedonist.” I could see the anger bubble up in her cheeks.
“I might be young, but I’m not ingenuous. I’ve always known I wanted you, this is not some impulsive childish whim. I’ve put thought into this, and I’ve waited until being of age to do something about it.” She let go of my arm to fist her hands by her sides “You claim to admire my intelligence and facilities to understand beyond the empiric, but don’t seem too convinced yourself I’m that clever nor attentive to my surroundings.”
When I fully turned around, I could see she had watery eyes and a twitching lip. That wasn’t true. Not only I’ve always thought she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, but also the smartest and most sensitive of them all. She has always held a sense of sensibility I’ve only read in books by masters of the word. Seeing her upset made me feel like a piece of garbage. I gave a step forward and gently held her face on my hands, smashing her mouth open slightly.
“I’m sorry. I do think you are clever, and I do want you. But you are my student; if someone finds out about thi-”
“Why would anyone?” she interrupted me with a vague frown. She left me speechless. “You don’t believe I would be capable of telling anyone, right?”
“Of course not” I impulsively answered “But-”
“But what, professor?” she sighed bothered “Do you want me, or should I leave?” My silence gave me away.
With a triumphal smile she cupped my face into her hands just like I did before with hers and kissed me hard. My hands traveled unhurriedly from her cheeks enjoying every curve, until I left them on her lower back. Desperately she elevated herself to wrap her arms around my neck, making my hands drop onto her bottom; I gave it a soft squeeze over the ruffled fabric of her simple dress and felt myself ascend from the earth. Sitting her down on the edge of the desk I moved my touch to her thighs, just below the cut of her dress. She had the silkiest skin I had ever caressed, even with the occasional appearance of a couple of hairs I suppose were forgotten in the process of shaving. While her hands messed my hair up, I gathered the courage to sneak my hand below her dress, not wanting to push her boundaries. It was her gentle grinding against the table that gave me the last push; curious, I dragged my hands under the depths of the fabric until I reached her cotton knickers. She supported her arms on my shoulders to rock herself forward and grind on my bulged crotch, which was just in front of her damp center. Separating from her I found her needy look, the one I dreamt so many nights with. Looking down I encounter her middle covered by pinkish underwear rutting temptingly against my obvious erection. Hooking a finger on the garter of her undies I let it go snapping against her olive skin. She jumped, making me smile.
“Don’t play with me Remus.” she frowned drowned in need “Touch me properly.”
I felt myself get impossibly harder when my hand stood in between us, and I felt the humid patch placed right in her entrance. I stroked the entire area delicately, like if it were the petals of a delicate flower; the sounds that came out of her mouth were dull but persistent, like my pace. I placed my thumb on her little nub and started drawing circles on it; her eyes closed, and her eyebrows looked for each other expressively. With one hand behind my neck, she maintained herself balanced. Meanwhile, with the other she started to create a path that ended below my belt. Fireworks went off inside my chest when she started to grope my cock lazily and I couldn’t help a grunt that escaped from my throat. Suddenly she stopped her administrations, corrected her posture, and looked right into my eyes.
“Take ‘em off, please.” Who was I to say no to such request?
With a shit-eating grin interrupting the kiss we immersed in, I grabbed the elastic edges of the garment and slowly pulled it down. It was a pleasure to see her skin get goosebumps from where my warm hands would pass. Instead of throwing the knickers on the floor I bunched them in my hand and saved them on the pocket of my trousers.
“Don’t worry, love. I’m not keeping them.” I assured her at her incredulous expression.
“I wouldn’t mind if you do.”
Before I resumed our smiling snog, I licked my hand to cup her bare cunt with no shame or hesitation. I had the pleasure to swallow a whimper of hers. While I wetted my fingers to keep making circles on her clit she fought with my belt, I didn’t help her because I wasn’t sure if she knew what a step more meant. This led me to think before I inserted a finger in her.
“Is this the first time you do this? I mean, are you a virgin?” I asked her, stopping to catch my breath.
“No, I’m not. I’ve been with girls before.” That information made me stop any movement. She opened her eyes weirded out by the lack of heat.
“Never with a guy?” Her head shook in a ‘no’ motion. I felt a warm sensation climb my body, which she probably witnessed on my face.
“It’s fine, really. I know it won’t be the same; I still want you to fuck me Remus.” She grabbed my face and pulled it closer to hers.
“I can’t do that, Y/n.”
“What do you mean you can’t do that? I’m not naïve, I might have never done it, but I know how it go-” I chuckled at her panicking.
“Y/n, I can’t fuck you because I don’t fuck, I only make love.” Her expression softened into a baby pink.
“Then, make love to me, professor” she said those words with a beautiful grin, and I could almost see hearts in her eyes from the way she was looking at me. I couldn’t object against that.
Dampening my fingers on her juices I resumed my movements winning a tender kiss on the mouth. This time, I didn’t torture myself with doubts and introduced my middle finger into her. Her hand on my nape tensed. She wrapped my finger inside of her tightly, so after a few pumps I tried inserting a second one to open her up. On her part, she managed to open the belt and zipper of my slacks. She languidly grabbed my erection over my underwear toying with it in an up-and-down motion. Once I successfully entered both of my fingers in her, she tightened the grab on me and started making more secured movements. Carefully I deepened my fingers more and more until I found that spongy spot that made her gasp. Increasing slowly my pace I grazed it every single time making her forehead sticky. I scissored her shallowly to open the space for me next. Meanwhile, she entertained herself playing with the head of my cock over my briefs, which were already messed up by the pre-cum. I pushed her hand away from me with the intention to kneel and eat her out like I always dreamed.
“Would you like me to kiss you down there, pretty girl?” she blushed and bit her lip unsure “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to.” I stroked her cheek with love.
“It’s not that, I-I just don’t want you so clos-, I just don’t want you to see it so closely, not yet. It’s too soon, maybe.” I could see the fear of mock in her face; I could see this was just a classic insecure-with-her-body teen problem.
“It’s fine Y/n, if you don’t feel comfortable it’s okay.” I assured her sweetly “Although you should know, I’m not bothered by any default you think you have; you truly are ethereal.” She licked her lips and avoided justifying her blushed cheeks by kissing me. As my hand went back to her center, she took my dick firmly freeing it out and stroking it; I let out a noticeable grunt. She looked down in curiosity and sighed at the look of my bare cock.
“I want you inside Remus, please.” she mumbled against my lips.
I retrieved my head slightly to make eye contact with her while licking my fingers clean from her essence. While she kept rubbing me, I kissed the mole on her neck before leaving a hidden mark just in the gap of her collarbone. Eager, Y/n took off her knitted sweater revealing the upper part of her dress; her breasts were held by two straps which she let fall over her shoulders. I felt like I could die at the sight of her pretty tits, I had imagined them every night, and here they were in front of me. Each one had a spot on the side and her nipples hardened aroused when the fabric grazed them. With my wet hand I grabbed one breast and the other went directly into my mouth. She bobbed her head backwards and raised her silky legs in excitement. While I kissed and massaged her whole chest, she opened my shirt, leaving me in my white sleeveless undershirt. A small chuckle made me look up to her.
“What’s so funny now, lady?” I raised an eyebrow playfully.
“Singlets are for grandpas; that’s what mine use at least.” She said giggling, I couldn’t help but smile in my faked offense when I heard her laugh “Looks really good on you, though.”
“Now, I don’t believe that. I’ll be taking it off just to make sure you don’t mistake me with an old man.” I said filling her face with kisses “Ewww!” she said between laughs.
When I pulled the chemisette out of my chest her laugh lowered until it stopped; the only thing it could be heard was the melody of a Mazzy Star song I was too busy to recognize. I turned to examine her face, throwing the clothing aside. She gently pressed a finger on my scars; the face that just minutes ago held an expression of pure pleasure, now held concern. I covered her hand with mine; she looked up at me and I gifted her a warm smile.
“Do they hurt?” she asked timidly.
“Not anymore.”
“I want to ask how, but I know you won’t answer honestly.” She looked at me with pity.
“Don’t you worry for me, love. I’m fine.” I cupped her face and just like she avoided the conversation about her body, I avoided the werewolf one.
In our sloppy kiss my hands went back to her tits, fondling them. Her fingers stroked my scars and made figures on my chest hair. A moan scaped from both of us when she shuffled to press herself against my still hard cock. She tangled her arms around my lower back pushing me into her embrace, signaling she was ready for more. Grabbing the side of her face I asked her to spit on my hand to stroke myself with it; after she did, when she considered she had waited long enough, she grabbed my arm with both hands and brought up her hips more with the cutest whimper.
“Easy love, there’s no reason to hurry.” I said lowly looking down to her opened legs delighted.
“I love when you call me love, do it more oft-” She interrupted herself when I rocked myself between her folds.
“Noted, love.” I replied with a smirk.
Spreading her wetness all over my length I looked at her to find any signs of self-doubt —there were none, only passion and desire. I slowly put my tip inside her; I couldn’t do anything but roll my eyes in pleasure. Each time I went a bit further she would gasp and grab my side signaling me to stop and rest there so her insides could accommodate to the feeling. I cleaned with kisses the tears that fell from her eyes; whether they were tears of joy or pain she didn’t say, I comforted her either way. Once I fit myself entirely on her I stayed there for some time, bathing in the glorious feeling of finally filling her completely; I had dreamt so many times of this, I felt it surreal it finally happened. When her grip on my sides relaxed, she made me surround her with both of my naked arms.
“Move, please, Remus.”
So, I did. First painfully slow, to avoid making her uncomfortable. I flushed our bodies together hugging her and her face found the sweet spot of my neck, kissing it repeatedly. I couldn’t withdraw my moans while being inside her, she imitated them shortly after the first thrusts. She looked up at me with those furrowed eyebrows and parted lips I love to see and kissed me. I moved one of my hands hooking it in her weak shoulder from behind which gave me more freedom to move. I never swinged myself too hard into her. This intimacy was what I was craving, and it would’ve been broken if I went feral on her; even if my animal instincts were punishing me for being so gentle while the full moon was only a week and a half away. Our pants and wetness filled the air in the change of song, the ambience becoming steamier somehow. My chest was dampened, just like my forehead, but that didn’t stop her from sticking those precious tits to my damaged torso. Grabbing her by the underside of her thighs I levitated her slightly hitting a spot inside of her that made her shut her eyes and open her mouth thrilled.
“You make such pretty faces, bunny.” She let out a soft moan “Do you like it? I’d like to hear you, doll.”
“Yes, yes, I love it.” She responded almost out of breath. She was in the verge of dumb. She suddenly squeezed me with force, signaling she was close to her release.
“Are you close, love? Want to cum like this?” I stayed still when she shook her head no.
“I don’t want to come ju-just yet. I-I want it to be with you” I released a long breath; for a minute I thought she changed her mind about it all.
Without saying anything I placed her on the desk and slipped out of her. Before she could whine, I kissed her making her get up in front of me. I crouched to hold her hips between my hands while we snogged and I moved my kisses to her cheek to never lose the contact while I turned her around. I bit her ear sensually and she pressed her dress-covered bottoms to my body. I spread my hand lovingly from above her knees to the inside of her skirt. When I palmed her butt cheeks squeezing them on my hands, she propped her arm holding my head on her neck and releasing the most beautiful moan I’ve ever heard. This time, without asking, I spread her butt cheeks to insert myself in her wet cunt. One of my hands went to her breasts holding her up against me, the other held her tightly by the waist.
“You are delightful, love.” I whispered in her ear resuming my pace. She answered with the sweetest hum.
I kept a steady rhythm making a soaking mess on the both of us (clothes included). One of her hands grabbed my thigh with force, asking silently for more short strokes; I gave them to her without thinking. Wishing I had a mirror in front of us so I could see her beautiful face, I buried myself on her and made circular movements I knew she would cry to. She discovered that if she arched her back more she could angle her head next to my lips. Struggling to keep up I kissed her forehead.
“I’m close, love.” I warned her holding one of her tits in my hand firmly.
“M-me too Rem.”
With that knowledge I moved my hand from the flesh of her hip to her clit making circles; she approved moaningly. I separated from her and lifted her skirt to admire the way my length went in and out of her and for a minute I stayed still, watching her squirm and move desperately on her own. She was the hottest piece of heaven. That gave me the last push to fully turn her head with my unoccupied hand to kiss her while I pounded into her. Holding my arm, she came and filled my mouth with pants and exclamations of ecstasy. Her tightness gripped me close, and I had to fight my instinct to cum inside by slowing my pace.
“Where do you want me?”
“Inside.”
“You know-” I dragged into her hard “that I can’t do that.”
“D-don’t be silly, I-I know how to t-take care of myself. Cum inside” she said with a dizzying head.
I couldn’t take it anymore, so taking a hold of her hips I thrusted, flushed to her soft back, and came inside her breathless and with a deep growl. All my senses came to halt and I had to contain myself from going all the way inside roughly. My movements slowly came to a stop, and I held her face in my hands drowning her in one last kiss. The music in the background accompanied our breaths. I tried pulling out, but she held me there.
“Stay, just for a little while.” She asked me with a small voice.
I kissed her forehead and smiled. After embracing her body for a whole song, telling her pretty things in her ear, I separated from her and helped her sit on my desk while I cleaned the cum off of us.
“I have more vinyls my father sent me, do you think I could come back another day to play them, professor?” she asked faking formality. Throwing the tissues on the bin and zipping my pants up I cracked a smile.
“Of course, Miss Y/l/n.” I placed my hand on my pocket “But, that is, only if you let me keep these.” I pulled out her baby pink cotton knickers, which had the purest bow in the front.
“Don’t worry, Professor Lupin, you can keep them. I have plenty more.” She replied standing up and giving me a naughty grin, paradoxically filled with innocence.
4K notes · View notes
Text
Happy birthday, Professor
Summary - You sneak out of your dorm to give your professor, Remus Lupin, his birthday present (it's you).
Warnings - smut, choking, gagging, teacher/student (student is an adult), mentions of bruises and marking, mention of safe word (but not used), D/s dynamic, grammar.
Note - I wanted to write something smutty for Lupin's birthday. I tend to see him as a big softie, but I really like the idea of him being able to act like this when "provoked". This is also the smuttiest thing I ever wrote so I apologize if it's too much (lol).
~
You both knew that your relationship was forbidden, that it was wrong. But you were addicted to him, and he was addicted to you. It was intoxicating. You could never get enough of his eyes devouring you as you sat in his class, of his hands exploring you when you snuck out of your dorm to his chambers, of his teeth biting your neck, of his scent that you wanted to drown yourself in every minute of the day. It was never enough and it would never be enough. 
The kind man with gentle eyes that you innocently called professor during the day turned almost feral when you met in the eerie stillness of the night. His mouth leaving marks behind. His grip strong and possessive, keeping you close to his body. His hand sometimes travelling up to your neck, lightly choking you. His body pressed against yours. His beard scratching your cheeks. His growl, deep and low in your ears, when he entered your body. It was dizzying. 
He was not expecting you tonight, but you wanted to surprise him. It was his birthday. You felt like you didn't have much to offer to a man his age. But you want to give yourself. You wanted him to use you as he pleased. To make you his, without any restraint, without holding back. 
You nervously snuck out of your dorm, walking the dark halls of the castle, and quietly made your way to your professor's chambers. You had decided on wearing your skirt with a simple shirt. You omitted the panties because you knew they wouldn't stay on for very long anyway. 
Before you could even knock, the heavy wooden door swung open. Maybe he was expecting you after all. His gaze, usually soft and gentle, had a darkness you were used to seeing now. 
"Good evening Professor," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just came to wish you a happy birthday."
His eyes crinkled in a smile and he chuckled softly. Without a word, he grabbed your shirt lightly and pulled you inside before closing the door behind. He knew what it meant when you called him Professor outside of the classroom. God, it sounded so sinful, but so good.
As he led you inside the dimly lit room, you could feel your heart beating out of your chest. Although your encounters had always been intense, you could tell he was holding back. Tonight, you didn't want him to hold back. You wanted him to have you the way he wanted. You didn't know if you could handle it, but you didn't care. 
He led you next to his bed where you stood nervously. You didn't know how to tell him. You couldn't even look at him, but you could feel his gaze piercing through you. You tentatively approach him and reach up for a kiss, but he stops you, gently pushing you back. 
"What's wrong? I can tell how nervous you are," he said, slightly concerned. He could tell you were not your usual self. 
You blushed at the sound of his voice. "Nothing, I-" you tried to explain, but the words wouldn't come out. You craved his body, his warmth. In another desperate attempt to get closer, you try to place your hands on his chest, but he grabs them, stopping you in your track. 
"Talk to me. Tell me what you want," he said, as if reading your mind. 
"Use me," you blurted out. You feel his grip tighten on your wrists. He pulls you slightly closer to his body and you can already feel his arousal against you. He leans in closer to your ear. "I will not be gentle. If at any point you want me to stop, you say the word red. Do you understand?" He pulls back, searching your face for any doubt, but you are looking at the floor, still embarrassed about the words that escaped your mouth. 
"Look at me," he said, his voice stern. "Do you understand?"
You slowly lift your eyes to meet his and whisper "Yes" in confirmation. 
He kisses you softly as he releases your wrists. He moves his hands to your hips and slowly lifts your skirt, exploring your body. His movements stop as he notices the absence of your panties. You knew that was it. It was the last straw, the last gentle touch you would receive. 
"Kneel for me," he commands, and you do, almost before he can finish his sentence. You were so eager to submit to him it was shameful. 
"Eyes on me," he says as he fists your hair. You whimper at the sting and the feeling goes straight down between your legs. 
He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he unbuttons his trousers. You can already see the outline of his hardness. You can't help but feel nervous. It's not like it was your first time with him, but you were not the most experienced when it came to stuff like that. 
"Open," he orders you as he frees himself from his trousers. His grip on your hair tightens as he guides himself into your eager mouth. He starts with the tip, teasing your tongue, and lets out a low growl. He pushes himself further, but feels you tense up around his length. 
"Relax your throat for me," he says as he stills, giving you time to adjust to him. You try to relax, but you're already out of breath and gagged around him. He doesn't care. He pulls out slightly and pushes himself back in, this time hitting the back of your throat. He moves his other hand to the back of your head and starts thrusting in and out of your mouth. You do your best to catch your breath when he pulls out, but it's never enough and your eyes get watery. His pace is relentless, your jaw is sore, your head hurts from his grip on your hair, but this is what you wanted and it is pure bliss. "You can take it," he encourages you but you don't trust yourself that you can. Just before you feel like you're about to pass out, he pulls out completely and tilts your head up. 
"Eyes on me, I said. I want you to look at me. Do you understand?" 
"Yes," you almost sob. 
"Yes what?" he says firmly. 
"Yes, Professor." 
"Good girl." He nods in approval and continues his merciless treatment of your throat, hitting the back of it with every thrust. His eyes never leaving yours. You are not even trying to hide it anymore, you just let the tears flow. He suddenly stills inside your mouth and holds you there a while until you completely run out of breath. He pulls you off of his cock and helps you stand. He grabs your neck and pulls you into a kiss, tasting himself on your lips. It's not gentle, it's not soft. It's possessive, it's hungry, and it's all you want. You can barely stand, your hair is a mess, your face full of tears, but he looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. 
He guides you to his bed before spinning you around and pushing you onto the mattress face down. Your breath hitched, your body trembled with anticipation. You enjoyed not knowing what was coming next. You could hear him getting undressed, the sound of his clothes being discarded, his steps getting closer behind you. 
You feel the mattress dip as he straddles your legs. He runs his hands up and down your thighs, relishing the softness of your skin. But his gentle touch is short-lived and it's not long before he grabs your hips and pulls your ass up, making you arch your back uncomfortably. You suddenly remember you didn't wear any panties and feel exposed as your skirt is pushed up above your hips. You gasp loudly as you feel a harsh slap land on your bottom. And another. And another. You stop counting and lose yourself in the warm feeling spreading through your body, a painful yet familiar sting surprises you after every spank. You try to squirm away, the feeling is starting to overwhelm you, but he keeps you in place with his other hand firmly resting on your hip. 
He suddenly stops and leans forward, pressing his body into yours. You can feel his hardness resting against your lower back. "Did I say you could move?" he asks, his tone almost predatory. You shake your head, not trusting your voice. "I thought you had better manners than this, young lady," he says before biting your shoulder, leaving a deep red mark. 
You take a shaky breath and say "No, Professor."
"I didn't think I did. Now stay still and take it." he commanded, and his words went straight between your legs. 
He continued to spank you until you felt numb. You knew what he wanted. He wanted to see you struggle to sit during his next class. He wanted you to remember this night while you looked at him standing in front of the class, only you and him knowing what had happened behind those doors. 
His hands were back on your hips in a bruising grip, and this time you could feel his cock grinding slowly against your ass. It drove you crazy. You can't wait any longer. 
"P-please," you whimpered. 
"Tell me." he replied. 
"Please, Professor, use me," you said shakily, pushing back against him. 
As the words left your mouth, he fisted your hair in a painful grip and guided himself to your entrance, just resting the tip, teasing you. He noticed how wet you already were and decided you were ready for him. No playing nice. No fingers. He just wanted to take you, to use you as he pleased. 
In one swift thrust, he pushed himself into you. Although you were already so wet, you gasped at the feeling of being stretched so quickly. It was blissful. He didn't even wait for you to adjust. He just grabbed your hip with one hand, pushed your face down the mattress with the other, and started pounding into you relentlessly. You couldn't breathe, your back was hurting, your ass was numb, but that is exactly what you wanted. Your moans were stifled into the mattress and his pace was merciless. He moved both of his hands to your hips, gripping them hard enough to bruise, and he continued to pound into you. 
He suddenly pulled out, and you cried out at the feeling of emptiness. You didn't have time to catch your breath before he manhandled you onto your back and he was already back between your legs. He pushed into you again as he held your wrists above your head. 
"Look at you," he growled, "so desperate for me to use you." 
You turned your head to the side, blushing, his gaze was too intense and you already felt overwhelmed. 
"Eyes on me," he said as he turned your head back to face him. His eyes were dark, hungry, predatory, possessive. You would have been scared if you had not known him to be so kind and gentle normally. You loved this a little too much. You loved the feeling of submitting, of not being in control, of being physically used for his pleasure. The thought of it brings you closer and closer to the edge of your climax. 
"Can I- please" you beg, but you're too out of breath to finish. "Can I cum, please Professor," you whimper. 
Your words almost make him lose control. He moves his hand to your throat, adding just enough pressure to restrain your airways slightly. "You're gonna cum on that breath. Cum for me." he commands. And that's all it took for you. You wrap your legs around his hips and you let go. It's almost violent. Your vision gets blurry. But just in time, the grip on your throat loosens and you come down from your climax. 
You can tell he is getting close. His thrusts are becoming erratic and deep. He buries his head in your neck as he continues to pound into you and bites you harshly. He bites you again, and again. He is marking you.
"I'm gonna pump you full. I'm gonna make you mine," he said as he continued to thrust into you. His pace falters and you feel him bury himself as deep as he can, his cock pulsing inside of you, marking you with his seeds. He stays inside of you for a moment, trying to catch his breath, before gently rolling off of you and pulling you to his chest. 
"You're gonna be the death of me," he chuckles softly. The soft and kind man you knew was back and while you enjoyed the more feral side of him, now you were desperately craving his comfort. You nuzzle your face in his chest and let the tears flow a little bit. He knows this is your way to come down from your high, and he just lets you. He holds you as you cry softly. "It's okay, you're okay," he says as he rubs your back. 
Once you regain your composure, you manage to look up at him. His eyes are kind again. "Open," he instructs you. You part your lips and a small piece of chocolate is placed on your tongue.
You just lay there, your body melting into his warmth. "Happy birthday, Remus," you whisper before letting yourself drift off in his arms. 
945 notes · View notes
Note
Shy! innocent!reader seeing bestfriend!Eddies boner for the first time and asking him if she could play with it?
i love this with all my heart
warnings || naive!reader, perv!eddie, smut, blowjob, innocence kink, praise kink, 18+ only
You grab one of Eddie’s pillows with a laugh, attempting to hit him with it.
He laughs, too, chest heaving up and down. He whacks you with his own pillow and the blunt force has you knocked back down onto the bed.
Both of your laughter echos off of his room’s walls and settles into your ears. He looks down, seeing your black skirt ride up to reveal more of your thighs.
Shit.
He knows he got a little problem and has had one ever since you walked into his trailer with a skirt on.
He hoped that the entertainment of a pillow fight would distract you. He hoped that once you got tired out, he could run to the bathroom and get rid of the ache.
“Eddie?”
He deflates a little at your curious voice, wondering what the matter was. His breathing almost stops as he follows your line of sight.
You’re looking down at his black ripped jeans—the big tent of his hardened length wasn’t hard to miss. “Yeah, sweetheart?”
He could feel his jeans almost constrict even tighter from the sparkle in your eyes.
Curiosity. Wonder. Desire.
All of those emotions flowed through you and you subconsciously pressed your thighs together.
“C-Can I touch?”
Huh?
Oh, shit. You wanted to touch him? You wanted to help him?
His breath hitches, “what?”
You shy away at his shocked expression, a little bit of shame bubbling in your chest.
“Did I—did I do something wrong?”
His eyes are wide—brown hues darken and his pupils are blown. “Oh, baby, no. You did nothing wrong. You jus’ surprised me is all.”
Your hands itch closer to his member, mouth watering from the idea—the mere thought of what he looked like.
Is he big? Is he thick? Is there hair? Is one ball bigger than the other? How would it feel?
He watched you unbuckle his belt, and he could feel his breath hitch. “S-Shit—” Your eyes are big—blown out wide as you shuffle his jeans and boxers down.
Your jaw almost hits the floor from his length. He was long, veins bulging and his tip was prominent. “Go on, baby, you can touch it.”
“Okay.”
He bites his lip at the curious cat-like tilt of your head. You’re so fucking cute and hot and—
He grips the worn sheets as you open your mouth. His heart almost swoons are your naive experience as you sit there with his cock in your mouth.
“Swirl your tongue, baby. Y-Yeah, just like that. D-Do it again for me, fuck.”
You swirl your tongue to taste his cock and feel the sensation against your cheeks. You wanted him to teach you how to make him come undone. You wanted him to feel good.
“F-Fuck, sweetheart, that fuckin’ mouth on you. You like it? You like my cock in your mouth?”
You bat your eyelashes at him, showing him just how much you like it when you hollow your cheeks. “Oh fuck, baby, shit!”
His hips buck into your mouth and you gag—eyes stinging “S-Sorry, sweetheart.” You shake your head which prompts a lopsided smile from him.
“Look at you, pretty baby, yeah. You’re takin’ my cock so well. S-Start bobbing you head. Yeah, baby, good girl. My fuckin’ good girl.”
His belly starts to feel like it’s going to burst. He knows by the quirk of your eyebrow and the grind of your thighs against the bed that good girl hit all the right spots.
You bring your hand to cup his right ball. You feel the rounded skin and Eddie swears he’s in heaven right now.
There’s no way his sweet innocent best friend who hasn’t even had her first kiss is shoving her mouth even lower on his cock and cupping his balls.
“O-Oh, fuck. I’m gonna cum, baby. I-I’m gonna cum! S-Shit—”
You blink rapidly at the unexpected ropes of hot cum run down your throat. You collect all of it—as much as you can—down your throat and swallow it hole.
Eddie’s gripping your forearms as he rides his high, up and down your mouth using you. His moans were low, but loud and that pride sunk beneath your chest.
“S-Shit, you can spit it out, sweetheart, it’s okay.”
You shook your head, opening your mouth to show him that you swallowed it all. “Did you?”
He pauses, brown eyes wide. “Did you swallow all of it?”
You close your mouth to smile wide at him. “I did, Eddie! I swallowed all of you.”
He groans and drops his head back onto the squeaky mattress. “Christ, you are going to be the death of me.”
10K notes · View notes