Tumgik
#it was SO good the tension was PERFECT i was on the edge of my seat despite being a manga reader
valkyriexo · 2 days
Text
I Volunteer | Bang Chan
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ᑉ³pairing; Bang Chan x Reader
ᑉ³summary : Chan comes home angry and frustrated and needs some release.
ᑉ³genre; Smut MDNI
ᑉ³warnings; dirty talk, swearing, use of 'slut', 'whore', 'Good girl' , Degrading, P in V, Rough sex , Frustrated sex, degradation kink ,daddy kink, teasing, overstimulation, fingering , oral (m. and f. receiving) hair pulling, begging, edging, Aftercare, Smut. SMUTTT minors do NOT interact
ᑉ³Authors Note; Thank you for 500 followers 🥹. In honor, here's my first ever smut. If it sucks dont tell me lmao
Tumblr media
Chan trudged through the door, his steps heavy with exhaustion and frustration. The dim light of dusk filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. He tossed his bag on the floor with a thud, the weight of the day's failures weighing heavily on his shoulders.
Chan was used to the demands of the music industry. But today had been particularly rough. Hours spent in the studio, pouring his heart and soul into producing music, only to hit one creative roadblock after another. The melodies that usually flowed effortlessly seemed to elude him, and each attempt at perfection only ended in disappointment.
He slumped onto the bed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The silence of the apartment was suffocating, broken only by the distant sounds of traffic outside. Chan closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him.
But then he heard it—the soft creak of the door opening. His eyes snapped open, and there you stood, concern etched across your face as you took in his tired form.
"Chan, baby? Are you okay?" you asked softly, crossing the room to sit beside him.
He tried to force a smile, but it faltered before it could fully form. "Just.. a long day," he murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion.
You reached out, your hand finding his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Chan hesitated, the words caught in his throat. Chan sighed heavily, the weight of the day pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. Without a word, he lifted his hands to cover his face, fingers rubbing at his temples as if trying to massage away the tension that had settled there.
You watched him, your heart aching at the sight of his distress. You wanted nothing more than to take all the pain and frustration away, to bear it for him so that he could find some semblance of peace. You knew there were days like this, days when Chan came home worn out and overwhelmed.
On those days, he often didn’t want to talk about what was wrong. It wasn't that he didn’t trust you or want to confide in you; it was just his way of coping. You had learned to read the silent signals—the way his shoulders slumped, the faraway look in his eyes, the heavy sighs that punctuated the quiet.
Tonight was one of those nights.
"Darling, why don't you let me help you forget about your day?" You purred, placing your hand on his chest, and slowly beginning to drag it down his body as you got into position. You knelt before him, the anticipation building between you.
The warmth of your touch seemed to seep through the fabric of his shirt, and Chan's hands slowly fell from his face, revealing eyes that were tired and weary. You place both of your hands on his legs and slowly began to push them apart, allowing yourself to slide in between.
"Baby…" Chan said, placing his hand on top of yours, almost as if to stop you, but you could tell he didn't really want to. His fingers lingered, trembling slightly. You could see the conflict in his eyes—the need for comfort battling with the instinct to shield you from his burdens.
"Shh... let me help you," you replied softly, as you began to unbuckle his belt, your eyes never leaving his. "I want to make you feel good, baby. You deserve it." you cooed, your fingers deftly undoing his pants. 
Chan groaned as you palmed him through his boxers. You could feel him getting harder under your hands.
"Y-you don't have to, baby" He said through his moans. You slowly pulled down his boxers, his erection springing free. "I can do-" You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his pink tip, shutting him up.
You continued by placing a trail of kisses down his cock, keeping eye contact with him. You licked your way back up to the tip and took him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip, tasting his pre-cum as it seeped from the top.
Chan couldn't help but throw his head back and lean further onto the bed. You continued to suck him, bobbing your head up and down relentlessly. Chan's breath caught in his throat as his ears began to turn a shade of red. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock. Chan moaned loudly, his hips bucking involuntarily. You took him deeper into your mouth and sucking harder than before. You reached up to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your fingers as you continued to pleasure him.
"Fuck, Y/N," Chan moaned, his hands slowly making its way to your hair. "That feels so good." You responded with a low growl, taking him even deeper into your throat, his tip kissing the back of your throat.
Chan's hips slowly lifted off the bed to meet the bobs of your head, low groans slipping past his lips as you increased your pace, your lips locked around his shaft. You choked slightly around his cock, tears pricking your eyes as his tip hit the back of your throat continuously. He whined for more, almost sobbing when you completely removed yourself from around him, removing your lips from him with a pop.
You lick your way up his cock, once again paying extra attention to his swollen tip. Before you could react, Chan's strong hands were on your face, tilting your head back. His gaze locked onto yours, he began to thrust his hips forward, his thick, hard cock pressing against your lips. You parted them slightly, allowing him to slide inside.
He couldn't take it anymore. He began to fuck your mouth roughly, his cock sliding in and out of your throat with each thrust. "Fuck, you're so good at this," Chan growled, his hips moving faster. "You like that, don't you? You love having my cock in your mouth." You gagged from the force.
"That's it, baby," Chan moaned, his voice thick with desire. "Take it all in." You could feel the saliva dripping down your chin, but you didn't care - the only thing that mattered was pleasing Chan.
"I'm go-gonna.... fuck.. gonna cum." he said, his thrusts beginning to slow down.
"Yeah? Cum for me, baby," you encouraged, your voice muffled by Chan's cock. You felt Chan's cock twitch in your mouth, his cum spurting into your throat. You swallowed, your eyes never leaving Chan's as you milked him for every last drop. 
He pulled his cock out, and you pressed your thumb down onto his dripping red tip.
"Get up," he said, his eyes now full of lust. It was as if a switch had been flipped, his demeanor completely different from before. His anger ebbed away, replaced by a different kind of fervor. Lust, raw and primal, coursed through his veins, igniting a fire within him that demanded more release. He closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, pouring all his pent-up emotion into it.
Chan's hands began to roam over your body, teasing and caressing you. You helped him by removing your shirt and pants. You stood before him in nothing but your lacy underwear, feeling both vulnerable and exhilarated. Chan's eyes roamed over your body, a look of pure lust on his face. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
Encouraged by his words, you reached out and took off his shirt, eager to feel his muscular body against yours. Chan pushed you onto the bed and kissed you again, now hovering above you.
Chan's hands moved to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them gently. You moaned softly, your body arching into his touch. "You like that, baby, don't you?" he growled, his fingers rolling your nipples.
"Y-Yes. " You say, trying your best to form the words you needed. With that, his mouth found your nipple, and he began to suck and nibble on it. You moaned softly, your hands tangling in his hair as he teased and aroused you with his tongue. As you writhed in pleasure, Chan's hand moved between your legs, his fingers gently rubbing your pussy through the fabric. You moaned louder, your hips bucking against his hand as he played.
With a groan, Chan tore your panties away, exposing your wet pussy to his eager gaze. 
"You're so wet for me, baby," he growled, his fingers sliding between your folds to find your clit. You cried out as he began to rub it in slow, teasing circles, his other hand gently massaging my breasts. You could feel your orgasm building, your body trembling with desire. "Please," you begged, my voice barely above a whisper. "Please. Chan"
"Wrong name. Try again" he replied sticking two fingers into you.
"Fuck... Please… please daddy," You cry out. "Fuck me.... please. I need you" you say, whining to his touch.
Chan chuckled, a low, seductive sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Such a slut.. Look at you.. All needy for my cock." He licked his lips. "Such a slut arent you?"
"Yes.. Yes I'm- I'm a slut," you say writhing from his fingers going faster in you.
"And what do sluts do?" His voice is low and deep. The sensation of his breath against your skin makes your heartbeat quicken. The scent of his cologne mingles with the tantalizing warmth of his breath, creating an intoxicating blend that leaves you breathless and wanting more.
"T-They cum." you say feeling that familar tightness in your core.
"Good girl…..I want to taste you," he whispered, his voice filled with desire. With that, he dipped his head between your legs, his tongue finding your clit as his fingers plunged deeper into your pussy. You cried out, your body writhing in pleasure as he expertly licked and fingered you. 
"Are you going to be a good whore and cum for me?"
You couldnt form the words to respond to him. He hummed against your clit as your fingers tangled themselves into his hair. His tongue teased your tight hole as you reached your orgasm and your cum trailed down the expanse of your thigh.
As you rode out our orgasm, Chan stood, his pulsating cock throbbing with desire. He smirked, a look of pure satisfaction on his face. "Now, it's time for you to take my cock, baby." You nodded, your eyes locked on his massive cock.
"Yes, please," You begged, eager to feel him inside you.
Chan's hands gripped your hips, lifting you and teasing his cock at your entrace. He gave you no time to adjust as he thrust into you with a powerful, primal force. You cried out, you body trembling with pleasure as he was big, filling you completely. 
"Oh? It doesn't fit? Poor baby still not used to having something big like this inside huh?" he groaned, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in.
He thrusts into you again, so hard it shakes the bed. He begans to move, each thrust feeling better than the last. It's as if hes trying to fuck all his frustration and anger out into you.
"Fuck... Shit. Take it. God fucking take it." He’s growling, groaning in your ear, holding you down.
You wrapped your legs around him, urging him to go deeper. He complied, his cock sliding in and out of you with increasing speed. You moaned, your body trembling with pleasure. You saw the bulge of his cock in your stomach with every sharp thrust, his cock dragging deliciously against your slick walls.
Chan's hands roamed over your body, caressing and teasing you as he fucked you hard and deep. "Look how good you take me. Feeling so good on my dick, squeezing me just like that."
You moaned louder, your body arching against him as he drove you both closer to the edge. "Fuck, you're so tight," he growled, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he pounded into you with increasing intensity. 
“Keep taking it baby. Just a little longer.” Chan’s soft praise were littered with groans, the deep ruts of his hips becoming increasingly sloppy as he fucked you. Your eyes were starting to become glossy. You began to clench around his cock, a tell tale sign of your coming orgasm. You could barely form a coherent response, only able to focus on the cock that was fucking you so well and dumb and the obscene sounds of you wetness coating his length.
Your body was begging you to cum. But this was about him. You wanted him to feel good. Him to cum first. He could tell you were completely fucked out, pussy wrapping snugly around him as he continued to stretch you out so well. You were so close, trying your hardest to hold out for him and be the good little slut he loved.
Suddenly you felt empty, moaning as Chan pulled out of you. He then flips you both, putting you on top, and denying you of your orgasm.
"Look at you.. all fucked out and pretty.. You can take more. I know you can." Chan breathes heavily beneath you, dark eyes watching you. "Ride my cock slut."
You slowly lower yourself onto his red swollen cock, and he arches his back off the bed when he felt your tight pussy clench teasingly around him. Groans leave his lips, dick throbbing deep inside you. Placing your hands on his chest, you started rocking back and forth at a steady pace. Chan cursed lowly under his breath as he watched you look down at him.
You continue to grind your hips down against him, loving the look of desperation on his frustrated face as his leaking tip twitched in your warmth.
“Fuck” he said, feeling you clench more and more around him. "F-Faster" he said. Chan's hands remained on your hips, guiding you as I moved. You could feel the pleasure building deep within you again , the intensity growing with each passing moment. You whimpered from how good he felt inside you.
"Oh God," he moaned, his body trembling. "I-I'm ....fuck. I'm so close." 
He began thrusting his hips up to meet yours, his cock driving deeper inside you. You knew he wouldnt stop until you were fucked dumb and covered in his hot cum. You cried out, your body writhing with pleasure as he reached his peak.
Chan fell apart, and his warm cum poured into you as you rode him.
“A-ah… Fuck.. Fuck.. fuck.. fuck,” Chan said as he threw his head back onto the pillows. “You feel so good.” 
Your pussy clenched around him and you pushed your thighs tighter together around his hips. Your fingernails dug into his chest and you made your hips keep moving, throwing your head back at the overwhelming sensations taking over your body. His whines and begs filled the room, tears filling his eyes from the overstimulation his cock was now going through. Chan could feel your orgasm building. "Come for me, baby," he whispered, his voice shaky with overstimulation.  "I want to feel you cum on my cock."
Seconds later, you finally snapped and your cum dripped down Chan’s softening cock and onto his lower stomach as you slid off of him. You collapsed down onto his chest and his arms came to wrap around your back.
Chan's arms are wrapped tightly around you, his grip firm yet tender. You can feel his chest rising and falling rapidly against yours, each breath he takes heavy and laden with emotion.
Chan couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He knew he'd been rough with you, more so than he'd intended.
"Baby," he cooed quietly into your ear. "I'm so sorry if I was too rough,"
You couldnt form any words. “Do you need anything? Some food?” You simply shook your head, lips pressing lightly against his shoulder blade to silently let him know you were fine and to cease his worrying
"I'm gonna clean you up, okay? i'll be right back," he says standing up and making his way to the bathroom.
A minute later you feel his hands on your body, damp towel rubbing to remove the tracks he had left. He was being very tender with you, like you were fragile and could break at any moment. He placed a sweet kiss to your navel and toss the towel to the side. He returned to your side and pulled you close once again.
Chan laid back against the pillows, his arm instinctively wrapping around you as you nestled close to him. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoed in your ear, a comforting reminder of his presence. You laid your head on his chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall with each breath he took.
His hand found its way to your hair, fingers combing through the strands in slow, soothing motions. The tension that had gripped him all day seemed to be completely gone as he held you close, the warmth of your body against his.
"Thank you," he whispered, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet room. "I love you so much"
You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your hand resting gently on his chest. "I love you too baby," you replied, your voice filled with tenderness.
A small smile curved his lips, the first genuine smile you'd seen from him all day. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment as if drawing strength from your presence.
As you lay there together, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside seemed to fade away. His breathing grew steady and even, and you could feel the exhaustion giving way to a restful sleep.
Tumblr media
*·˚ᑉ³ Taglist in the comments! If you want to be removed from the taglist send me a dm!
*·˚ᑉ³ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like | © 2024 Valkyriexo  licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 
433 notes · View notes
jackles010378 · 2 days
Text
As simple as Pie 🥧
Dean winchester x y/n
No warnings just pure fluff 🥰
Dean started to visit the new bakery in town that y/n had opened. Has Dean's love of pie found him a love of his own.................
(I apologise now if this doesn't make sense but it's the most I've written the past few weeks and I wanted to post something for you guys, I hope you enjoy it 🥰)
Tumblr media
Y/n’s bakery in Lawrence, Kansas had become a cozy haven for locals seeking solace in the warmth of freshly baked goods. Among the regular patrons was Dean Winchester, a rugged man with a penchant for sweet pies. His visits were as predictable as the sunrise, and Y/n couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on her creations.
Dean’s affection for her pies was evident. He’d devour them with gusto, crumbs clinging to the corners of his lips. But there was something more—a subtle tension in the air whenever he stepped through the bakery door. Y/n’s heart fluttered when he flashed that crooked smile, and she wondered if he felt it too.
Sam, Dean’s brother teased him mercilessly. He'd nudge him when Y/n emerged from the kitchen, flour dusting her apron, and whisper conspiratorially. Dean would roll his eyes, but his gaze never wavered from her.
One chilly afternoon, as the scent of cinnamon and apples enveloped the bakery, Dean lingered by the counter. Y/n handed him a slice of warm apple pie, the crust flaky and golden. His fingers brushed against hers, and time seemed to slow. She caught a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes—the same vulnerability she felt whenever he was near.
“Thanks, Y/n,” Dean murmured, his voice low and intimate. “Your pies are something else.”
She smiled, heart racing. “It’s my secret ingredient,” she teased. “Love.”
Dean’s laughter was like a melody, and Y/n wondered if he tasted the unspoken truth. Maybe the sweetness of her pies mirrored the sweetness of their stolen glances, the shared smiles that held promises yet unspoken.
As the days turned into weeks, Y/n found herself baking more than just pies. She baked hope, anticipation, and the fragile possibility of something more. And Dean? Well, he kept coming back, each slice of pie a silent confession.
In the quiet moments between flour-dusted aprons and lingering touches, Y/n wondered if Dean’s heart was as tangled as hers. Perhaps love, like pie, needed time to rise—to reach that perfect balance of sweetness and warmth.
So in the heart of Lawrence, Kansas, amidst the scent of vanilla and butter, Y/n and Dean danced a delicate waltz. The bakery walls held their secrets—the stolen glances, the shared laughter, and the unspoken question. Could love be as simple as pie?
Only time would tell, but for now, Y/n continued to bake her sweet creations, hoping that each slice carried a little bit of magic—a recipe for love that transcended flour and sugar.
The air in Y/n’s cozy bakery seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for the inevitable. Y/n and Dean circled each other like two planets caught in a delicate gravitational dance. Their stolen glances spoke volumes, yet neither dared to breach the unspoken boundary.
Dean, with his rugged exterior and a heart that bore scars from battles fought, was a man of action. But when it came to matters of the heart, he stumbled like a novice. He’d linger by the counter, fingers tracing the edge of his coffee cup, eyes following Y/n’s every move. His laughter, once boisterous, now held a hint of vulnerability.
Y/n, too, grappled with her emotions. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla clung to her skin, a reminder of shared moments. She’d catch herself staring at Dean’s hands—the same hands that cradled her pies, that brushed against hers when he accepted a slice. Her heart whispered secrets she dared not utter aloud.
Sam, the ever-watchful brother, exchanged knowing glances. He teased Dean mercilessly, nudging him whenever Y/n stepped away to refill the sugar bowl. “Just tell her,” Sam would say, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Life’s too short for unsaid words.”
But Dean? He’d scoff, pretending indifference. “Pie’s good,” he’d mumble, avoiding Y/n’s gaze. Yet, when she laughed, the sound like wind chimes on a breezy day, he’d forget his bravado.
One rainy afternoon, the bakery was empty except for the two of them. Y/n wiped down the counter, her apron stained with flour. Dean leaned against the doorframe, raindrops clinging to his hair. The silence stretched, fragile as spun sugar.
“Dean,” Y/n began, her voice barely audible. “Do you believe in magic?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Magic? Like rabbits out of hats?”
“No,” she said, stepping closer. “The kind that happens when two souls connect. When a simple slice of pie becomes a bridge between hearts.”
Dean’s gaze softened. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But magic doesn’t last.”
“Maybe it doesn’t need to,” Y/n replied. “Maybe it’s enough to savor the sweetness while it lasts.”
He reached for her hand, calloused fingers intertwining with hers. “Y/n,” he said, voice raw. “I’ve tasted your pies. But what I hunger for is something more.”
Her heart raced. “And what’s that?”
His lips brushed against hers, a whisper of warmth. “You,” he confessed. “I hunger for you.”
Rain tapped against the window, a gentle rhythm. Y/n kissed him, and in that stolen moment, magic bloomed—a recipe of longing, vulnerability, and courage.
So, amidst the scent of baked goods and rain-kissed air, Y/n and Dean confessed their feelings. The bakery walls absorbed their whispered promises, sealing them in a cocoon of love.
And as the rain subsided. Y/n knew that sometimes, love was as simple as pie—sweet, warm, and worth every risk.
The rain-kissed streets outside Y/n’s bakery seemed to echo the rhythm of her racing heart. Dean’s confession lingered in the air, a fragile promise waiting to be fulfilled. Their lips had met—a sweet collision of longing and courage—but what lay beyond that stolen kiss?
In the days that followed, Y/n and Dean navigated the delicate dance of newfound affection. The bakery became their sanctuary, a place where time slowed and the world faded into the background. Each morning, Y/n would prepare fresh pastries, her hands moving with a purpose that transcended flour and sugar. Dean would arrive, his eyes seeking hers, and they’d share stolen glances—their secret language.
Sam continued their teasing. “Dean,” Sam would say, “you’ve got it bad.” a knowing smile on his face. But Dean? He’d roll his eyes, feigning annoyance, yet his gaze never strayed far from Y/n.
One afternoon, as golden sunlight streamed through the bakery window, Dean sat at the corner table. Y/n approached, a cup of coffee in hand. His fingers brushed hers, and she felt the spark—the same one that ignited when their lips met. She cleared her throat, her heart pounding.
“Dean,” she began, “about that magic we talked about…”
He leaned forward, curiosity in his eyes. “Yeah?”
“It’s real,” she whispered. “Between us.”
Dean’s smile was slow, like honey dripping from a spoon. “You think so?”
“I know so,” Y/n said. “But magic requires more than stolen kisses. It needs vulnerability, honesty.”
He traced the rim of his coffee cup. “I’ve never been good at that.”
“Neither have I,” Y/n admitted. “But maybe we can learn together.”
And so, they did. They shared stories—the scars they carried, the dreams they harbored. Dean spoke of battles fought, of loss and redemption. Y/n revealed her love for baking, the way it healed her soul. They laughed, they argued, and sometimes, they sat in companionable silence, fingers entwined.
One evening, as twilight painted the sky in shades of lavender, Dean stood outside the bakery. Y/n watched from the window, her heart in her throat. He hesitated, then stepped inside. The bell above the door chimed—a melody of hope.
“Y/n,” Dean said, his voice raw. “I’ve never been good with words. But I want this—us.”
She took his hand, her fingers fitting perfectly in the spaces between his. “Dean,” she replied, “magic isn’t about perfection. It’s about vulnerability. It’s about saying, ‘I’m scared, but I’m willing.’”
He kissed her then—a promise sealed with warmth and uncertainty. The bakery walls absorbed their confession, and outside, rain began to fall—a gentle patter against the roof.
As they stood there, hearts entwined, Y/n knew that love was indeed as simple as pie. It required the right ingredients—trust, laughter, shared secrets—and the courage to slice through fear.
And so, in the heart of Lawrence, Kansas, amidst the scent of cinnamon and love, Y/n and Dean embarked on their next chapter—a love story written in flour-dusted kisses and rain-soaked promises.
TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck @angelbabyyy99
78 notes · View notes
seri-tonin · 11 months
Text
I have. Some mixed feelings about the kny s3 finale
3 notes · View notes
fingertipsmp3 · 1 year
Text
Do you ever knit something knowing full well you’re digging yourself into a hole with your various bad ideas, but you just continue anyway
#so i’m doing colourwork right now which was. a Choice#i’m not even all that great at keeping my tension even for stripes which is the absolute most basic form of colourwork; so idk why i thought#fair isle would be a good idea#but anyway. so my pattern requires me to knit 7 rows in navy and white; then 3 in light blue and white#so i’ve been breaking the contrast colours in between sections because this is in the round and i don’t want to have to contend with random#balls of yarn i’m not using and colours having to be carried up the sides and everywhere#the problem? i’ve just realised i’m going to have about TWENTY ends to weave in. and that’s on one mitten#it’s not like a massive waste of yarn. i don’t think so anyway. it’s like. one yard i think#and that’s in total; not per ball. plus each ball is well over 200 yards so it’s an inconsequential amount#it’s just like.. my god. 200 ends. for ONE MITTEN#*20 ends i meant#i mean i don’t think i can get around breaking the light blue; i don’t think i can carry it up 7 rounds. but i could probably carry the navy#up 3. i just didn’t want to fuck up my tension or get 3 balls of yarn in a knot by constantly having to adjust everything to accommodate#a yarn i’m not even knitting with on that row#and my tension is damn near perfect to be fair. the edges are a bit questionable but when they’re on my hands it won’t be noticeable#it’s just. my god. TWENTY ENDS. and i need to weave them in verrrry carefully or i’ll fuck up the look of my colourwork on the right side#and it will have all been for nothing#brb i’m going to watch videos on how to weave in on fair isle#the only other time i’ve done it was when i made a hat and i only had ~4 ends i think and there were spaces where there was no fair isle#so i just weaved the ends in there. but these mittens are SO dense with colourwork. literally only the rib is plain white. every other row#has colourwork & therefore the wrong side is absolutely full of floats#help meeeeeeee#tbh the pattern is extremely indie and i found the designer in a facebook group where they said people could contact them with questions#and they welcomed photos of the finished project. maybe i should be like ‘hey chief great pattern! how on EARTH do you suggest i finish this#off?’#like maybe i’m just stupid but it feels like this is what i was supposed to do? idk though#i’m going to look up videos like i said i was going to and then i’m going to go to bed#personal
3 notes · View notes
cherienymphe · 8 months
Text
Smells Like Teen Spirit (Rafe Cameron x Reader)
Tumblr media
Warnings: NON/DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, attempted murder + suicide, mentions of blood, loss of virginity, underage drinking, jealousy, kook!reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @firefly-graphics
➥ cont.
Tumblr media
summary: Being one half of the royal couple of Figure 8 isn't what it's cracked up to be.
~
The first time Rafe hit you, it was on your birthday.
Like every year, your parents threw you a big party that hosted no less than a hundred people. A good number of those people were friends from school and familiar faces you’d grown up with. The other bunch were family friends that had more in common with your parents than you. You took their pretty cards filled with money and thanked them with a smile, relieved when they scampered off to congregate with the other forty somethings.
It was the same party every year. Half the people of Figure 8 in attendance, an abundance of gifts you could barely keep up with, and a light scold or two from your mother to smile and greet the next person who came in. Your hair was flawless and your dress was the perfect length.
The only difference this year was the presence of a boyfriend at your side.
“Rafe, if my dad sees us, I will never hear the end of it.”
Your tone was light and teasing, and you said it with a smile, but there was a hint of seriousness there. It really didn’t matter how older you grew to be, you were sure you’d always be your daddy’s little girl. The older man already hadn’t been the most excited when you told him you were dating Rafe Cameron, Ward Cameron’s son, and you were positive that the Cameron family’s reputation was Rafe’s only saving grace.
You’d just turned eighteen then after all and was already flaunting your new adult status.
The blue-eyed boy in front of you merely chuckled, tightening his arms around your waist and leaning in to kiss you again. The house and the yard were filled with almost too many people, so you hadn’t hesitated when Rafe discreetly guided you upstairs.
“He’s too busy talking about his new boat, isn’t he?” he wondered. “He’ll talk all night if they let him.”
You lightly tapped his chest, but you didn’t voice any disagreement.
Your back was leaning against your bedroom door, the muffled sounds of some classical music reaching your ears through the wall. Rafe’s hands were tight on your waist, and you both felt and heard him chuckle again, his lips still pressed against yours. Only this time, he kept laughing—softly and to himself—and you gave him a slight frown when he pulled away.
“I was just thinking…” Rafe pulled you close again. “How hilarious it would be if he was going on and on about that damn boat…none the wiser to his daughter getting fucked on her birthday right upstairs.”
This time you hit him a little harder, and Rafe only laughed again.
“You’re not funny,” you scolded, deflating a little as you pulled away from him. “Way to ruin the mood.”
You said it quietly as you sat down on the edge of your bed, but Rafe heard it clearly, and when you looked up at him, you recognized the look on his face instantly.
“Funny,” he started, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the door. “Mentioning sex usually has the opposite effect on most people.”
You rolled your eyes with a turn of your head, looking towards your window. The atmosphere was different, now, and you didn’t know if it was your fault or Rafe’s. He joked like that sometimes, and you knew it, so you could recognize that maybe you were being too sensitive.
The topic at hand, however, was a sensitive one for you.
“I really don’t want to have this fight, right now,” you mumbled.
You could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t return it, determined to just stare down at the people in your yard. The air was thick, the tension even thicker, and you reached up to rub your arms, trying to rid them of the goosebumps that had appeared. Rafe hated being ignored, and you knew that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to continue the conversation because you knew what was brewing.
Rafe was the perfect boyfriend. He was pretty—the kind of pretty that even some girls would be jealous of. He came from the kind of family that taught him about manners and respect. He never hesitated to do what he could to make your life easier despite growing up wanting for nothing. You didn’t think it was possible for an already spoiled girl to be spoiled some more until you started dating Rafe and he proved you wrong. He treated you like a princess, so yes. Rafe was the perfect boyfriend.
Mostly.
“I’ve been really understanding, you know…”
Rafe’s voice was low, and your gaze dropped to your lap.
“…but we’ve been dating for what? Eight months?”
You swallowed, eyes burning.
“Do you know how hard Topper and Kelce would laugh at me if they knew my girlfriend of almost a year refuses to have sex with me?”
You scoffed, finally looking at him, brows pulled together.
“You make it sound like I’m punishing you,” you breathed. “Rafe, this has nothing to do with you, I… I’m just not ready.”
“…and still no ETA on when you will be, huh?”
You blinked at him, lips parting at his callous tone and words. You looked away, blinking back tears because you would hate it if you cried on your birthday of all days.
“You’re being an asshole.”
You whispered it, and you heard Rafe huff.
“I’m not trying to be,” he told you, and you heard him move closer. “…but come on. I get it…”
The bed dipped as he sat down next to you, and you felt his hand on your face, fingers grazing your cheek.
“You’re nervous, and it seems scary, but you’re treating me like I’m some stranger on the street, and not…your boyfriend. You know I’ll take care of you. I always take care of you, and that’s why I don’t understand it,” he bit out. “I treat you like gold, and here I am, eight months in and wondering if you even feel the same way.”
You whipped your head around to stare at him in disbelief, looking between his eyes. You didn’t know how he could be serious, but as you gazed at him, you realized that Rafe was very serious. You took a moment to scoot away from him just a tad.
“I show you everyday how much you mean to me, Rafe…but because I won’t have sex with you that means I don’t love you? So just forget all the other stuff, I guess,” you sneered.
Rafe reached for you when you started to turn away, shaking your head and lightly pushing at his hands. Today was your birthday, and you were fighting with your boyfriend…because sex was something you just weren’t ready for. You snatched your arm out of his hold, standing on unsteady legs.
“When you first brought this up, I told you then that I wasn’t ready, and you made it clear you were okay with waiting. Was that a lie?” you asked him, meeting his gaze.
Rafe ran his hand down his face, huffing to himself.
“No, but I just didn’t think I’d still be waiting almost half a year later.”
He was standing, now too.
“So, why are you? No one’s forcing you to stay here, Rafe,” you sadly told him with a shrug. “You don’t have to be with me if sex is that damn important to you. There are plenty of other girls out there who will happily give you what I don’t want to.”
You crossed your arms over your chest.
“…and I know because I see the looks they give you…and the looks they give me.”
You were used to envy. You’d been on the receiving end of it all your life. Growing up on this side of the island guaranteed that from birth, but you also knew it was because your standing was only rivaled by Sarah Cameron. If Rafe’s sister were anyone else, you might have found yourself involved in some one-sided rivalry, but Sarah was a lot like you.
Just a girl born into fortunate circumstances.
However, what you weren’t used to was envy because of the man you loved. When it came to your house and your lifestyle and everything else, it never bothered you because no one could take those things from you. Rafe, on the other hand… You knew what he was like and what he was used to. It was why you’d been very honest about your sexual history and lack thereof from almost the beginning. If Rafe was going to leave you for someone else all because you wouldn’t have sex with him, you would have rather he do it early.
Not now…not eight months in because now you loved him, and the thought made you want to cry, and it would take just as many months to get over him.
“If I wanted any of those other spoiled bitches then I wouldn’t be here,” Rafe told you. “Besides, you think I’m just going to walk away with nothing after investing so much time and money and energy into you?”
You reared back at that, eyes widening just a tad, and Rafe seemed to realize how that came out. He sighed, reaching for you just as you stepped away from him. You heard him curse when you left the room, ignoring the sound of him calling your name as you hurried to mix yourself in with all of your guests downstairs.
Rafe talked about you like some business investment he was waiting to get a return on. It hurt, a lot, and while you wanted to believe he hadn’t meant it like that in his head, you couldn’t help but to wonder if that was really how he saw you. Your mother smiled at you when she saw your face, none the wiser to your temporary absence. Your own smile was forced as she introduced you to their new golfing buddies.
You didn’t know when Rafe came back downstairs, only quickly glancing away when your eyes connected with his after some time. If your parents noticed your distance from him, they didn’t comment on it, and after a while, you barely noticed it yourself. You immersed yourself in your friends, halfway listening to boyfriend troubles and semester woes.
This was the only thing you and Rafe ever fought about. Plenty of your friends had boyfriends before who tried to pressure them into doing things they didn’t want to do. You were always the friend to tell them to dump them without hesitation, so why hadn’t you done the same? Was it because Rafe was so perfect in all other aspects of your relationship? The back and forth hadn’t ever been so serious before…not until tonight.
As you sipped on the drink you weren’t supposed to be having, you remembered the hurt you felt when Rafe implied you didn’t love him. What a crazy thing to say. You treated him just as well as he treated you, never mind the fact that you told him every day how much you loved him…but because you wouldn’t fuck him that meant otherwise?
It was enough to make you angry.
“Finally stopped hiding from me…?”
You tensed up for half a second, relaxing with a sigh as you heard him come closer. You were out by the water, now, sitting on the boat dock with one leg swinging. It had been nothing but just you and your thoughts for a good thirty minutes, and you guessed it took that amount of time for Rafe to realize you were no longer in the house.
“I don’t know yet,” you honestly told him.
“I didn’t mean it like that. You know I didn’t,” Rafe quietly said, getting straight to the point.
“…but I don’t know. You don’t even think I love you just because I won’t have sex with you. For all I know, that’s exactly how you see me,” you mumbled.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Says the guy ruining my birthday!”
You were looking up at him, now, tearfully, and you shook your head. Saying it aloud made you realize just how shitty it was, and you sniffed, pulling yourself to your feet.
“Just go home, Rafe…”
He stopped you from walking by him, and you ignored anything he was trying to say. The more he leaned in, that was when you smelled it, and your frown deepened at the stench of alcohol on his breath. You didn’t know why the smell made you so angry. It was a party, after all, but maybe it was the fact that if anyone of the two of you deserved to drown their sorrows in booze, it was you. Not Rafe. Pushing at his chest, you scoffed.
“One argument…and you’re already getting drunk?”
You jerked your face away from his hand, glowering at him.
“Don’t you want to at least wait for Ward to give you the daily disappointment speech?”
The slap wasn’t as hard as it could’ve been, but it was hard enough to make your face burn.
You were staring at the water from when your head had whipped to the side, and when a nightly breeze blew by, kissing your skin, only then did the dull burning sensation fade away into a painful one. Your lips were parted in shock, and you were slow to reach up and touch your cheek. The silence was loud, and when you finally looked at Rafe, he looked as shocked as you felt.
All of your breath had left you, and your brain was short-circuiting, desperately trying to reconcile your boyfriend with the same guy who’d just slapped you. It didn’t seem real, and yet the dull pain you felt said otherwise. A few tears escaped against your will, and it was only then did Rafe move. His face fell, but you were already backing away.
“Y/N-.”
“Don’t touch me,” you tearfully spat. “What is wrong with you?”
He didn’t listen, grabbing your arms anyway, and you were still in too much shock to really fight back. Rafe cooed at you, trying to take your face into his hands no matter how much you protested. You wanted him far away from you, and your brain was unsure of how to achieve that, still grappling with the memory of his palm connecting with your cheek.
“Hey, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to do that,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Baby, stop.”
You shoved at his chest, hitting it, but he wasn’t deterred. He only rested his free hand on the back of your head, holding you against him, and the feel had more tears spilling over. You kept trying to get away, but Rafe refused to let you, repeatedly apologizing and shushing you. You could feel the cool metal of his ring against your scalp, his lips there too as he kept telling you he was sorry.
Your chest was so tight, and it ached just as much as your face. Your mind was still fighting to make sense of what had happened tonight, and despite Rafe’s apologies for his entire behavior, you told yourself that this was the last straw. Rafe had ruined your birthday in more ways than one, and you were done. You had to be.
…because you deserved better.
Tumblr media
The first time you had sex with Rafe—with anyone ever—you’d been terrified.
…and drunk.
An entire month after your birthday, and you didn’t know if you were more shocked or angry that you stayed with Rafe. You had been so determined to leave him that night. He had ruined your birthday beyond repair, and you knew that anytime you looked back on the night you turned nineteen, you’d only remember Rafe slapping you on the dock.
…but you’d also remember his profuse apologies, and the tears in his eyes as he begged you to forgive him.
He was drunk. That was what he kept saying, that he was drunk and acted before thinking. It was barely a reason and certainly wasn’t an excuse, so why did you stay? It was stupid to stay…and yet you did. You let Rafe kiss your face and lead you back to the party that had long died and smile in the face of the parents whose daughter he’d just hit.
You’d answered the phone as he called you, taking almost half an hour to just tell you again how sorry he was and how he didn’t know what came over him and how it would never happen again. You’d never known Rafe to be so apologetic in all the time you’d been dating him. It would’ve been sweet if it weren’t for the circumstances, and the whole time, you’d only been able to listen in silence with your fingers grazing your face.
You hadn’t been able to look him in the eye for days, going over it in your head again and again. Torn between listening to your gut and telling yourself that it had just been a one-off thing, a bad drunken night. After all, what you’d said to him hadn’t been the nicest, knowing how he felt in regard to Ward and his relationship with him. It didn’t make it right…but you had provoked Rafe. You’d said it to hurt him…to make him angry… Right?
…but that wasn’t the case a month later.
Things between you and Rafe hadn’t been the same since. He still doted on you, and your parents still adored him, and you were reluctant to admit you still loved him, but you could never get that night out of your mind. You could never forget how swift it had been, how no thought to you had been spared. Rafe had only been focused on retaliating, hurting you, and it was something you often struggled with. You believed it wouldn’t happen again…but what if it did?
Without even realizing it, you became less argumentative with the blond. You gave him less pushback, you smiled more and became more agreeable to his suggestions. You spent more time with him, making him happy. You believed him when he said it wouldn’t happen again, but in the back of your mind, something in you was doing everything you could think of to make sure it didn’t.
…and that was why you still didn’t quite understand how the fight had started.
Something about Topper…or Kelce.
You were so drunk, it was hard to remember.
“I saw you!”
You had blinked at Rafe from your place on the couch, staring up at him in wonder and confusion. Another Friday meant another party, and promising your mother you’d be back by a certain time, you’d allowed Rafe to help you into his truck. Nothing about the night had been out of the ordinary, and it was why you found yourself wracking your brain.
“Rafe, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you softly told him, trying to understand why he was so mad.
The only son of Ward Cameron knocked the glass of water right out of your hand, and you flinched at the action, blinking at the sight of shattered glass on the floor. You’d gotten it to try and help you sober up before you went home, and you stared at the spilled water with parted lips. You were too drunk to fully grasp the severity of the situation you were now in.
Suddenly Rafe was there, too close, leaning down over you with his hands resting on the back of the couch. You leaned back and away from him, eyes wide as he looked at you like you were something he’d find on the bottom of his shoe. Like he was so disgusted with the sight of you, and again, you wracked your brain to understand what you’d done. To understand how to fix this.
Rafe’s blue gaze had been cold, icy, and you hadn’t missed the tick of his jaw. The alcohol in your system hindered your thinking, and that had seemed to make Rafe angrier, like he was furious you couldn’t put it together. Read his mind. Overwhelmed, you hadn’t been able to stop a few tears of frustration from escaping, and that just seemed to really send him over the edge.
“You were in his lap,” he had bit out, and only then did you finally understand.
Your odd relationship with your boyfriend these days had driven you to drink more than you ever had. You’d been sloppy…clumsy, and Topper was nice enough to help you back to your feet after you’d quite literally fallen right onto his lap. You wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but one look into Rafe’s eyes had you swallowing it down.
He was very serious…and very angry.
You reached for him, but Rafe only slapped your hands away, straightening and looking down his nose at you. It was a look that made you feel so…cold, and with one blink, you remembered that you were alone. Sarah was God knows where, and the remaining Camerons had gone out to eat. The house was usually empty during this time, but it wasn’t this Friday night.
It consisted of you…and your angry boyfriend.
“I should…I should go. Call my mom,” you mumbled, pushing yourself to your feet.
Your attempts to get by Rafe went unsuccessful, and with each block to your path, something deep within your gut just…dropped. Your gaze met a familiar blue one, and nothing about it was warm, welcoming. Rafe seemed to be so mad at you about something so silly, but instead of just talking about it later when you were both much clearer headed…he didn’t want to let you leave.
“Is that what you’re gonna do?” he’d mocked, a mean look on his face. “Call mommy and daddy to come get you?”
Sarah.
You reminded of him of Sarah.
That was what he’d said, what he’d thrown at you. His tense relationship with the other girl was no secret to anyone, least of all you, and you winced at every insult he threw at you. Spoiled brat. Perfect princess. Uptight prude. It shocked you for a lot of reasons, but mostly because Rafe wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t sober, but you’d hardly seen him drink all night and not nearly as much as you, and he was insulting you with confidence, throwing all of these things at you that you never knew he felt.
“I’m just going to go home, okay? You’re being an asshole, and I don’t know why, so I just…”
At some point, your back was grazing the wall, and Rafe was hovering before you, a look in his eye like leaving was the very last thing he wanted you to do. Every move of yours was mirrored, every turn met with one of his own, and for the first time ever…you were afraid of your boyfriend.
When Rafe hit you that night, you hadn’t been scared. Not really. You’d been angry…shocked…disbelieving. Not scared though. You’d just wanted to be away from him, you had even wanted to hit him back, but not once did you remember feeling scared for your life. Not like this night, and you couldn’t keep it together.
“Rafe, please, I just…I just wanna go home,” you choked out, touching your temple. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”
You were so confused as to how you got here. The night had taken such an unexpected turn, and more than anything, you wanted to sleep it off and write the whole thing off as a bad dream. You wanted to get some more water and take a shower and skip to the part where you had a pounding headache in the morning. You didn’t understand how a night of partying had turned into an argument with your boyfriend.
Although, you supposed it wasn’t much of an argument. Mostly Rafe yelling at you and you trying to understand why. Rafe was determined to make this into something it wasn’t, and when it became clear that he wasn’t going to let you leave without dead-ing this whole thing, you frowned at him.
“I fell. You know I fell, you know…”
Your words died in the air as Rafe rolled his eyes, and something in you was telling you that Rafe was going to believe what he wanted to believe. He was determined to make something true, and it startled you to realize that you’d lost this argument before it even began. Slipping from in between Rafe and the wall was a mistake.
A mistake that had consequences.
Your purse was halfway across the room before you could even grab it good, Rafe suddenly in your face again. He was yelling about a whole bunch of nothing, and when you turned from him again, Rafe made sure it was the last time, gripping your upper arm so hard that you actually cried out. His other hand followed suit, and he shook you, hard enough to make your head whip back and forth.
The only time he listened to you was when you asked him to let you go.
…and he did just that…shoving you in the process.
The kitchen counter slowed your fall only a bit, but it added to the pain more than anything else. Trying to get up proved fruitless, because Rafe was there, kneeling before you with one hand on the counter. The other was on your face, forcing you to look at him. You were too drunk to make full sense of everything he was saying, to grasp the danger you were in. When you finally did, it was too late.
…because Rafe was already ripping the dress he bought you a week ago.
You thought it was a joke at first—some awful and insensitive scare tactic—until you were reaching up to pull at the hand around your throat. Your other hand slapped at the cabinets below in panic, and with a knee between your legs, it was impossible to close them. You knew that you were alone, but that fact didn’t stop you from crying out.
“You really expect me to just watch you throw yourself at my friends? Huh?”
The kitchen floor was cool against your back.
“…and laugh about it?”
He was fumbling between you both, and the room was spinning too much for you to understand why. You felt nauseous, and Rafe was hurting you, and you were cold. Not to mention that your head had started to hurt, but you also realized that everything was hurting.
“But you won’t even touch me.”
You felt like you’d been punched in the gut…only lower.
The pain of Rafe’s intrusion had you wailing, and the difference in your reactions couldn’t have been starker. It was hard to decipher, but you were sure that Rafe had moaned, a low drawn-out sigh as he sheathed himself inside of you. You could feel Rafe’s chest heaving against yours, could feel his heartbeat, could even hear his shaky breath.
You, on the other hand…
You couldn’t move. You felt frozen, restricted by something unseen, and when you tried to fight against it, you gasped. One shift had you wincing, and tears spilled over almost immediately. Your hands were pressing against his chest, now, desperately trying to push Rafe away, pushing off of you… out of you. It was no good, Rafe in a whole other world you weren’t privy too as he pulled back.
The feel had you wincing again, and you thought…
Well, you thought wrong.
Your relief was short-lived, and Rafe ignored everything you said as he started to thrust inside of you. His hips barely left yours, only enough to create friction, and you pushed your forearm against his neck, fighting to get him to stop. The pain wasn’t something you could wrap your head around, and you didn’t know if you were grateful or not that you were so drunk.
Every snap of Rafe’s hips made you cry harder, harsh sobs escaping and echoing in the otherwise silent kitchen. The sound of your bawling was only rivaled by the groans that escaped Rafe, your boyfriend pointedly ignoring your plight. One of his hands pushed against your face, forcing your head to the side…as if he didn’t want to see your face.
See the reality of what he was doing to you.
You thought at some point that the pain would go away, subside, but it felt like it only got worse with each thrust of his cock. Rafe was a man on a mission with only one objective in mind, and you were having the hardest time sorting your thoughts, realizing that in this moment you were a means to an end. An objective to be met through the use of your body.
…but you supposed it was more than just that.
Rafe was always entitled, a trait you found somewhat endearing much like towards an entitled child, but it hadn’t occurred to you that he’d feel entitled to you too. Before the night of your birthday, you knew the one thorn in your relationship, the one thing to actually put a crack in your relationship. Deep down somewhere, you expected Rafe to just leave you. After all, why wouldn’t you?
There was no universe in which you’d ever consider the possibility of the alternative.
The possibility that your boyfriend would just take what he wanted.
It didn’t last long—or maybe that was the alcohol in your system sparing you—but you couldn’t even be relieved. Even after Rafe pulled out, spent and satisfied and out of breath, the pain still remained. He was talking, and you didn’t know if he was talking to himself or you, but you paid it no mind. You could still feel him deep in your gut, and you rolled onto your side, curling into yourself.
You didn’t hear him the first time, but the second time Rafe told you to get up, he was forcing you to your feet. It hurt, and you could barely walk, and your confusion only grew. His hold was tight, and his tone sounded off, and you discovered why when headlights from the yard bled through the windows and into your line of sight.
He was rushing you to get upstairs, but you kept stumbling from both the pain and your blurry vision. Rafe didn’t let you go until you were just inside of his room, and as you collapsed to the floor, you could hear the door opening downstairs. You couldn’t stop crying even if you wanted to, and you hadn’t even realized Rafe had left—to give some half-baked excuse for the broken glass, no doubt—until he returned, suddenly kneeling at your side and begging you to stop crying.
You tried to push him away, but your movements were sluggish, weak, and you weren’t able to hold your own as he pulled you to your feet. Rafe stumbled into the bathroom with you, an arm around you and holding you up as he started the shower. You didn’t want him touching you, but you were physically unable to stop him. Every step hurt and made you stumble, every wave of your arm made you sway, and when the warm water ran over you both, there was nothing you could do as he washed away every remnant of his assault.
Tumblr media
You were at Rafe’s side on his birthday, a small smile on your lips as he kept an arm around your waist. Rose thanked you for coming, not that she would expect anything different, and Wheezie asked if you would be staying over. The youngest Cameron had taken a liking to you—all of them did really—and she looked forward to having you around. You wanted to tell her no, but that wasn’t what you said. Instead, you said:
“Its’ Rafe’s birthday. Why wouldn’t I?”
The dark-haired girl beamed, adjusting her glasses, and her satisfaction was contagious. You knew that Rafe’s dynamic with his family was tricky at the best of times, and while you were sure they loved you just fine, something in you also wondered if they liked who Rafe was when he was around you. They were happy to host you for as long as they could.
They had no idea that it was only 24 hours earlier when Rafe tried to kill you.
Trying to leave Rafe resulted in the last thing you ever expected.
That night—and all the other nights that followed—haunted you. When you closed your eyes, you could only see Rafe at his lowest, holding you down and hurting you. You could only feel the pain of him forcing himself inside of you, and the pain that lingered when he was no longer there. The memory of bloody water swirling down the drain was a constant in your mind. As well as the memory of Rafe putting you in his bed, pulling his shirt down to your knees.
You should have left the night of your birthday, you should’ve gotten out then, and none of it would have ever happened, but you told yourself that late was better than never. You told yourself that you learned your lesson and you didn’t have to experience any more hurt to leave. Your eyes were open, and while you didn’t know if you’d ever go against Rafe legally for what he did, you did know that you were leaving him. You had to focus on each step at once. Trying to think so far ahead was enough to scare you.
Right now, you just needed to leave him.
His entire visage had been eerily calm as you broke up with him, voice shaking as you did. Even he hadn’t been able to deny how your relationship had deteriorated, become something unrecognizable and unhealthy. The morning after, you felt like you were existing outside of your body. You could see Rafe leaving apologetic kisses along your face as you stirred, but you couldn’t really feel it. You couldn’t feel his hands either, not until they found a home between your legs, at least.
Your protest was almost immediate, but Rafe had assured you it was fine…and you were scared.
So, you believed him.
Experiencing pain and pleasure at the same time was foreign to you. Rafe’s previous assault was not something to be ignored, but it felt odd to come around him and hiss from the pain of it at the same time. He was gentle, pressing his lips to yours and grazing his fingertips against your skin. His thrusts had been slow and careful, but the damage had been done, and every push of his hips brought out conflicting reactions.
That was how it always went.
Even after the pain and bruises were long gone, you couldn’t stop being afraid of Rafe. After all, he’d made it perfectly clear that he wouldn’t respect any kind of refusal from you. What kind of relationship was that? How could you thrive in that? Rafe may have been your first everything, but you weren’t naïve. He was an abusive asshole…and you were just too scared to do something about it.
Until last night.
You thought it would be easy. You even remembered internally laughing at yourself for how dramatic you’d made it in your mind. You thought… You thought that Rafe would move on, let you go. After all, he’d finally gotten what he wanted, and you had even exhaled when he nodded, a soft ‘okay’ soon to follow.
“Let me drive you home,” he’d said.
“Okay,” you’d replied.
You didn’t know why you thought it would be that easy.
Things with Rafe hadn’t been easy in months, and your attempted breakup was no different.
You realized that when the needle on the speedometer started to rapidly climb, the sound of Rafe’s revving engine loud in the truck. You asked him what was going on, where he was going, even though deep down you knew. You knew Rafe better than anyone probably, so you knew the answers to your questions before you even asked them.
“Rafe, stop,” you’d begged, reaching for his arm, but the blond simply fixed you with a wry smile.
“Why?” he’d wondered with a shrug. “So, you can leave me? Why would I want that?”
The houses and trees were flying past you outside the window, and you never felt more powerless than in the moment you were trapped in Rafe’s truck, unable to do a thing as he raced down the road towards the end he’d already picked out for the both of you. Any attempt to grab the wheel only resulted in Rafe jerking it—jerking the vehicle in the process—and scaring the shit out of you.
Retracting everything you’d said earlier only resulted in a harsh slap to the steering wheel, a dry laugh from Rafe soon to follow.
“You think I believe that load of shit? Huh?”
“Rafe-!”
“You just tried to break up with me not even thirty minutes ago,” he screamed.
He wasn’t wrong, and you still wanted to, but you were more afraid of dying than living a lie. You pleaded with your boyfriend, assuring him that you didn’t mean it. He only laughed again, and you got the feeling that Rafe was genuinely amused by you. By your tears, by your fear, and by your desperation.
Your heart was racing so fast it could be classified as painful. Your hands were sweating and constantly sliding against the door from where you tried to hold on to it. You pulled at his arm when he swerved into the other lane, swerving back just in time to miss an oncoming truck. Your stomach twisted painfully, bile rising in your throat, and at this point you couldn’t even see the road because of your tears.
“Rafe, please, please just talk to me,” you cried.
His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, blue eyes focused on the road with not a glance spared towards you, and you pressed your hand to your mouth. You looked out of the window again, unable to make out a thing, and when you reached for Rafe this time, he didn’t slap your hand away. He didn’t protest when you wrapped your arm around his waist, leaning into him and resting your hand against his chest.
You knew that your tears were staining his shirt, and you didn’t know if you stopped fighting as some unconscious tactic or simply because you were accepting what was impossible to escape. Rafe had to have been going a hundred miles an hour, this kind of speed something your brain could barely fathom. It was after some time when you felt his hand on your head and some time after that when you gradually felt the truck slowing.
You were still shaking long after it came to a stop in some wooded area, and the silence in the vehicle was loud. Rafe was just playing with your hair while you trembled against him, and when he stopped, it was only to trail his hand to your neck, gripping the back of it harshly as he forced you to sit up. You knew you looked as distraught as you felt, but Rafe…
Rafe looked calm and in control and nothing less.
His blue eyes ran over your face, drinking in your trembling lips and wet cheeks, lingering on your wide eyes the longest. You felt him rub his thumb along your skin, and when he hummed, it harshly pressed against the side of your neck. Suddenly, the corner of his pink lips curved just the slightest, and nothing about it was soothing.
“I wasn’t serious… You know that, right?”
You didn’t respond because he wasn’t kidding, and you both knew it. Rafe shifted, moving closer, and he brought his other hand up to touch your cheek, wiping your tears away. He studied your eyes, leaning in and grazing your lips.
“It was just…something I didn’t mean. You understand though. Doing things…saying things we don’t mean,” he slowly said to you, swiping his tongue between his lips. “Right…?”
The drop in his voice and the slight raise of his brows had you swallowing, and he was looking at you like he dared you to disagree. Fighting the urge to throw up, and with a shaky nod, you told Rafe what he wanted to hear.
“Right,” you whispered, and he chuckled.
“Alright,” he breathed with a blinding smile, pulling you into his side. “Kelce is throwing together some small thing at his house. I told him we might stop by…”
He trailed off, leaving room for a comment, and you only shrugged.
“That’s fine with me.”
Your voice was barely audible, but Rafe heard you fine, starting the truck and pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I knew it would be.”
You’d been quiet the whole night, and you’d been quiet all day, only existing as silent support to Rafe on his birthday. If anyone noticed your reserved demeanor, no one commented on it. No one knew that as you wished Rafe a happy birthday, you were afraid of what could happen if you didn’t smile hard enough. When he kissed you, you could only think of how he’d kissed you after threatening to kill you both. Every time Rafe held your hand, it felt like a chain tethering you to him.
You dreaded the moment the party would thin out and everyone would start trickling from the home in pairs, heading back to the comfort of their own homes until just Rafe and his family remained. Eventually they would call it a night too, and you and Rafe would be alone, and you wouldn’t have a choice but to kiss him back when he eventually kissed you.
…and kiss you he did.
“You almost ruined my birthday, you know,” he mumbled into the kiss, making you pause for half a second.
Your only response was a quiet apology, and Rafe sighed into your mouth.
“That’s okay, baby,” the blond purred. “You know I’ll let you make it up to me.”
You were terrified of your boyfriend, and that was why you let him undress you. You let him wrap his arms around you and hold you close and press kisses to your skin. It was surreal to have sexy with someone you were afraid of, like you were being held hostage in your own body. If Rafe noticed—and you were sure that he did—he didn’t care.
He was content to lay you down and bury his face into the crook of your neck. In fact, you were sure Rafe liked your fear, liked that you were so scared of him. You thought it made it all the more fun for him to push his cock into you and feel you tremble in fear. You just knew there was something in Rafe that took great pleasure in making you momentarily sacrifice your fear of him for ecstasy instead.
He forced your head back, and your chest arched upwards into him. You gasped at the feel of his tongue on your skin, gliding over a hardened bud and tasting you. His hips came down slowly, like he was savoring the feel of you clinging to his cock. He sighed with every thrust, and you were never able to swallow down your own moans once Rafe started stroking that fire building within you.
“Fuck,” he groaned, nipping at your lip as he plunged his cock into you.
One of your legs were thrown over his shoulder, and the stretch burned in a way that wasn’t painful but wasn’t the best either. One of your hands was wrapping around his arm, trying to ground yourself as the other twisted into his sheets. You couldn’t stop gasping, clenching down on him every time Rafe hit that spot in you that made you lose your breath.
When he pushed your leg back more, you yelped in pain, but Rafe only hummed. His thrusts became rougher, and he only hummed again when you hissed. Your hand rested on his chest, pushing against him slightly—a nonverbal communication—but Rafe ignored it.
“Rafe…”
His hips were slapping against yours, and you couldn’t even pretend to enjoy it. Your other hand came up too, and he slapped it away, that same hand wrapped around your throat only moments later. You let out a choked cry, reaching up, but Rafe didn’t stop, continuing to fuck you and choke you.
“Look at me-look at me,” he quietly spat.
Too afraid not to, you did, your distressed gaze meeting his even one in the low lighting. He was so close, nose almost brushing against yours, and he looked between your eyes. His hand tightened around your neck, making your heart skip a beat, and his free hand covered your breast, squeezing it, and your free leg kicked at the sheets.
“I will kill you.”
Your nails pressed into the skin on his arm.
“Do you understand me? You try to leave me again…and I will kill you.”
Your heart was threatening to burst from your chest, and the ceiling behind Rafe’s face was starting to blur. The edges of your vision were growing faint, darkness creeping along the outer rim.
“I will dump your body on the side of the road, and I will get away with it.”
His words and cadence were slow, purposeful, and you knew that Rafe was entirely serious. Tears had long spilled over, and you couldn’t stop crying. Rafe shook you, your neck straining from the action, and the whole time he kept fucking you. His lower movements didn’t stop once, sliding into you over and over and stroking your walls all the while he threatened you.
He roughly let you go, and you coughed, touching your throat and shaking uncontrollably. When Rafe shifted, your leg falling to the bed, you pressed your hands to your face, sobbing into the palms of them. Rafe caged you in, thighs meeting yours with every thrust, and he didn’t seem to care at all at the sight of your distress. In fact, he kissed the back of your hands, humming with every stroke, and you could only think that if you had broken up with him on your birthday then he wouldn’t be threatening your life on his.
Tumblr media
Ward Cameron may have felt a lot of things about Rafe, but he wasn’t going to let his only son go to jail.
You should have known that when you called the police, throat tight and phone call tearful as they asked what your emergency was. Telling the woman on the other side of the phone that you were hiding from Rafe Cameron inside of the bathroom wasn’t easy. Telling her that he had a gun was even harder, and something in you wondered if they would’ve been as urgent if they hadn’t heard his booming voice from the other side of the door as he threatened you.
You were sitting on the steps when a familiar car pulled into the driveway behind the cruiser, and you felt your face crumble. There was some relief as the older man went back and forth with Shoupe, but it dwindled the longer it went on. When Ward turned his head towards you, you dropped your gaze, eyes tracing the blood on your foot from where a few shards of glass had nicked it. You didn’t dare look up, not even when you heard his footsteps approaching despite the loud protests from the Sheriff.
When Ward said your name, it was cautious—gentle—and you shook your head.
“No.”
Your name rolled off of his tongue again, and you interrupted whatever he was going to say.
“No, no, no! No,” you cried.
You knew what he was going to say, where this was going, and you refused. You were tired, so tired, and each time you’d tried to do the right thing after your disastrous birthday, you got screwed over. Each time, Rafe was one step ahead or using that charming smile and devious words to convince you it would never happen again. Every slap, every shove, every hand around your throat was proof of all the lies that left his lips.
You were sure that the only truth Rafe had ever told was when he said he’d kill you.
 It was silent between you two for some time, and you heard Ward sigh. You bit your lip, worrying it so much you started to taste blood, and you sniffed, wiping your face as you refused to look at the man. When he took another step towards you, you flinched, and only then did you look up to see the way Ward’s face fell.
You watched him press his lips together, only a thin line, now.
“I want you to tell me what happened.”
You scoffed.
“You know what happened. I’m sure Shoupe told you,” you forced out, and Ward exhaled through his nose.
He briefly glanced over his shoulder, looking at his son in the back of the cop car.
“I want to hear it from you. I want to know how a couple’s quarrel turned into-.”
“A couple’s quarrel?” you repeated in disbelief, tears falling as you exhaled. “He threw a vase at me. He put a gun in my mouth.”
You couldn’t tell how Ward took your words, but he did put his hands on his hips.
“Now, Y/N…you know it’s a crime to lie to the police.”
His response didn’t surprise you, and you nodded, your laugh humorless. Ward knew you were telling the truth, he knew just how unhinged Rafe could be, but he didn’t want him in jail. He couldn’t have the Cameron name tarnished by the arrest of his only son on domestic violence charges. Ward would rather handle this in private, away from prying eyes…and it disgusted you.
“I’m not lying, and you know I’m not lying,” you choked out.
“Why would Rafe do this? Right out of the blue?”
You were on your feet, now, sneering at the other man.
“It’s not out of the blue. Rafe has been treating me like shit for months!”
“…and this is the first we’re hearing of it…?”
The eldest Cameron tilted his head to the side, studying you, and you felt your breath leave you. You watched him touch his chest, gaze soft as he seemed to plead with you.
“Now, I’m not saying that’s not true…but you know that’s what they’re going to ask you. They’re going to ask you why you didn’t tell anyone…and they’re going to note how convenient this all is.”
You knew that, and you looked away, hands falling at your side.
“Rafe says you dropped a vase, and it started an argument.”
“He’s lying-.”
“…and anyone can say you’re the liar.”
You pressed your hands to your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears fell. Even through your lids, you could see the change in colors from the flash of the squad car, and when you opened your eyes again, the procession of red and blue lit the yard.
“That gun is legally his…and no one saw him do what you claim he did.”
“Why are you protecting him?” you loudly wondered, looking at the man in disbelief.
You’d eaten dinner with his family, even watched his daughter some nights, and he’d smiled in your face on numerous occasions, treating you like his own. Now, though…when push came to shove…Ward Cameron was showing you that you were not one of his own. Rafe was his own…and you were now a threat.
He took a step towards you, and you reached out to grip the rail to keep yourself from falling.
“I am just telling you what will happen if you continue with this,” he slowly started, and you crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to look at him. “They will take Rafe away, and I will pay his bail, and he’ll come home with me. There were no witnesses, and everything is pure speculation, a simple case of he said she said.”
You knew that he was right, and you felt yourself start to shake.
“…and in that scenario, I can’t help you.”
You knew what he was saying. You knew that he was talking about protecting you from more than just scrutiny and the law—he was also talking about protecting you from Rafe. Your lips parted, and you shakily exhaled. You felt like you were going to collapse, legs unsteady, and when you looked over…your eyes finally met a familiar blue pair.
You were positive that Rafe hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since they’d put handcuffs on him. If looks could kill, you were sure that you’d be six feet under, and you frantically blinked. No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, and your stomach churned at the memory of his hand on the back of your neck. His other held the gun, angrily forcing the weapon into your mouth as he sneered at you.
Something about returning the smile from some pogue at The Wreck—blond and rowdy and kind of familiar.
You recalled that his name was JJ.
The fight had started almost as soon as you got inside, and you shuddered at the flare of pain in your arm, recalling the way Rafe had shoved you into the wall. You’d only slid down just in time to miss the flying vase. Just thinking about it was enough to paralyze you with fear…and then you thought about what would happen should you choose to have a legal battle with Rafe and his family.
…and lose.
You let out a choked sob, looking away, and letting your face fall into your hands. You collapsed back down onto the steps, Ward’s voice reaching you.
“You tell Shoupe this was all one big misunderstanding…and I can do so much more for you. …but I can’t help you if you go through with this.”
You couldn’t stop crying, because you were trapped…and you knew it. Your parents had money too, just as much as the Cameron’s, but that only evened the playing field, it gave you no advantage, and you were back to square one of your word vs Rafe’s. You knew he would be far more forgiving if you just…did what Ward said. You knew that if you went through with this and lost, Rafe would wring your neck.
“I won’t let my son go to jail, Y/N. One way or another…”
You knew he was telling the truth, the conviction in his tone matching the certainty in your chest.
“…but at least this way, I can help you.”
Your knees bounced as you wrapped your arms around yourself, your tearful gaze focused on the perfectly manicured grass. You curled in on yourself, head falling, and your shoulders shook from your sobs.
“He scares me,” you struggled to say, and Ward placated you.
“I know…I know he does, but you have to let me help you.”
You pulled the ends of your sleeves over your hands, wiping your face. The night was still lit up with red and blue, and you closed your eyes, stomach sinking. It took everything in you to give Ward a shaky nod, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Ward waved the other man over.
You felt like you were betraying yourself, arm still aching and throat still raw from all of your screaming. A lot of your trembling was still from what had happened hours ago, and like that day in his truck…and the night of his party…you’d really thought you were going to die. You couldn’t go through that again, but Ward said that he would protect you because you knew Rafe better than anyone, and you knew that if you tried to press charges against Rafe and didn’t succeed…
He would kill you.
“Y/N wants to talk to you.”
You glanced up at the sound of your name, holding Ward’s gaze for a few seconds before finally meeting Shoupe’s.
“I want… I don’t-I don’t wanna press charges.”
Your words tumbled out, and for a moment, you were sure that Shoupe hadn’t heard you properly. You came to realize that he heard you fine, and his confusion wasn’t from a lack of understanding. You watched him rest his hands on his hips, looking between you and Ward.
“Now, Y/N…” he started, seemingly trying to organize his thoughts. “I heard that phone call. I heard what you said and I heard him yelling.”
“It was just a regular argument, Shoupe,” you whispered with a shrug. “It was stupid. A stupid vase…”
“That he threw…”
The pause was heavy, and you glanced away.
“That I dropped.”
You shook your head when he said your name, and you licked your lips, gaze pleading as they met his again.
“Please, just let him go. He didn’t do anything to me. It was a stupid fight that I exaggerated because…I was angry and things got out of hand, and this just went way beyond what I intended, so…”
The other man didn’t look like he believed you, at all, and you watched him glance at Ward—who hadn’t said a thing—before looking back to you. He sighed, fixing you with a look you couldn’t name.
“Are you sure…?”
Your only response was a nod, unsure if you could lie any more without breaking down. With an aggravated sigh—aggravation at you or at Ward, you didn’t know—Shoupe signaled to his deputy to let Rafe go. Ward was pulled to the side as the two men had a hushed and heated conversation, going back and forth, while your gaze rested on Rafe.
You felt like you were doing the worst thing possible as you watched them guide him out of the backseat. He looked far from happy as they uncuffed him, and just like all night, his gaze refused to leave you. The flashing red and blue bathed him, blue eyes glinting almost dangerously, and you pressed your lips together while you watched him rub his now free wrists.
The other men were distracted as Rafe slowly made his way over, and you didn’t dare move. You were too scared to, and as much as you wanted to pull your eyes away, you couldn’t find the strength to. It was just hours ago that you’d stared into that face as he yelled at you for something as harmless as a smile. Only hours ago, he was pushing you around and threatening you.
…and now those same hands were reaching for you and pulling you to your feet.
You cried for so many reasons as Rafe wrapped his arms around you, rocking you from side to side and shushing you in what was meant to be a soothing voice. They were tight, and you cried harder, apologies slipping past your lips before you realized what you were doing. Rafe was always quick to forgive if you were quick to apologize.
“I know,” you heard and felt him murmur into your hair.
“Please, please don’t…”
You both knew what you were begging for, and he gently shushed you.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out again, repeating it as many times as you thought you should, hoping and praying that it was enough. “You have to know that…”
Your words died in the air at the sound of his voice.
“I should be angry with you…but I understand,” he softly told you. “You were scared, and you should’ve been.”
You sniffed, staring at the red and blue grass.
“I went too far, and you were right to be scared.”
Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head, lingering there, telling you the words that brought you temporary relief.
“I forgive you.”
4K notes · View notes
thatdammchickennugget · 4 months
Text
Take Care Of My Girl
pairing - mattheo riddle x fem!reader x lorenzo berkshire
warnings - cursing, smut, unprotected p in v, unprotected anal, threesome, some cringey dirty talk, MINORS DNI || 18+
wordcount - 2.7k
a/n - I just saw that I reached 1.000 followers that's insane! I wanna thank every single one of you for reading, reblogging, commenting, and following little old me, it really means so much to me <3 to celebrate I finally pushed myself to finish this, I hope you like it <3
Tumblr media
You should not have played with him this morning. But dressed in a pretty short black dress and feeling on top of the world with your hair falling down your back in perfect silky locks, you saw your chance to rile him up.
Knowing that you only had a couple of minutes left before you had to leave for the annual ball hosted by the Berkshire’s at the end of every summer, you grasped at the opportunity to tease your boyfriend.
He looked like a dream in his black suit and emerald collared shirt, hair tousled perfectly.
Mattheo was fixing his tie in front of the wide gold-rimmed mirror in his bedroom when you re-emerged from the bathroom after putting the finishing touches on your make-up.
Pressing your chest against his back, you snaked your arms around his middle, your palms rubbing along the edge of his slacks, middle and pointer finger sliding inside the tight-fitting material to play with the hem of his boxers.
One of your hands strayed from its path to slide up over his chest, soothing some of the tension from his tight muscles.
He finished fixing his tie as you scattered slow kisses along his shoulder blades, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror when your fingers found their way into his underwear.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he quipped, the corner of his lip quirking up as he studied the way you batted your lashes. He was fully aware you were up to something.
Cheek squished against his arm, you pushed your lips into a pout. “I need you, Matty.”
You did not miss the mischievous glint in his stare. It was never hard to rile him up, at least it wasn’t hard for you.
One of his hands found its place on your wrist, stopping your hand from sliding down even further. “What exactly do you need from me, baby?”
Pushing up onto your toes to nip at his ear, you made sure to let your breath hit the spot behind his ear. His weak spot, the spot that could make him melt beneath you if you targeted it just right.
“I need your cock.”
Through the mirror, you watched him bite down on his lower lip. He started pushing your hand closer to their destination, speaking in a low voice. “Why don’t you go ahead and show me just how needy you are?”
You happily obliged, sliding a hand over his length, relishing in the sound of the small gasp leaving his lips. One of his hands reached behind him, grasping your ass and pulling you even closer against his chest.
Slowly stroking him, you watched his face in the mirror, waiting for the moment he closed his eyes and leaned his head back before pulling your hand away and leaving a quick, teasing slap on his backside.
His eyes flew back open, finding yours with a confused expression. Sending him your cheeriest smile, you went to grab your bag. “Okay, let’s go. We’re going to be late if we don’t hurry.”
A knowing smirk made its way onto his face. That was the moment you should have realised he would retaliate, but you were feeling much too good about yourself to notice it.
You made your entrance at the Berkshire manor, greeting whoever Mattheo deemed important enough, and made polite conversation with whoever came up to talk to you. Soon Enzo arrived, and your boyfriend was pulling you along behind him as he followed his friend to the library, happy to get away from the crowd.
You took your place on one of the sofas, your thighs pressing against his as you leaned into him, watching as Enzo threw himself down on the sofa across from you. The boys instantly opened up a discussion on  Quidditch, so you took the moment to relax, already exhausted from socialising this much.
At first, you didn't even notice when Mattheo’s hand edged higher and higher up your thigh, but once it finally made its way beneath your dress, you instinctively clenched your legs together. Mattheo was not having it, his grip tightening as he pulled them apart.
You froze in place when his fingertips ghosted along the hem of your panties, checking  if Enzo had noticed what he was up to. Thankfully, he was not paying attention to you whatsoever, completely focused on what Mattheo was saying.
There was a hint of desperation in Mattheo’s touch now as he ran his thumb along the top of your panties. You caught his little smirk when he felt the wet patch beneath his finger, rubbing slow circles over your clit.
Your legs opened a bit more, silently asking him to continue despite the feeling of shame washing over you. His touch on your sensitive bud had goosebumps forming all over your body, but you didn’t  stop him. Not yet anyway.
Closing your eyes, you thought about his soft lips on your neck and his strong hands on your hips. About his powerful thrusts inside of you, and a new excitement washed over you. By the time he pushed your drenched underwear to the side and slid a finger inside of you, you had completely forgotten there was someone else in the room.
Mattheo began pumping his finger in and out at an agonisingly slow place, his thumb still drawing circles on your clit. You couldn’t  help the moan that slipped past your lips. Grinding your teeth together, you embraced the pleasurable feeling of your oncoming orgasm until you heard a soft groan from the other sofa.
Your eyes snapped open only to meet Enzo’s, staring back at you, his eyes wide. Your cheeks flushed  a bright red in embarrassment at being caught, though you felt yourself unwillingly clench around Mattheo's finger.
Your hand went to grab your boyfriend's wrist, trying to withdraw his hand from your core. He responded by pushing a second finger into your tight hole, increasing the pace of his thrusting digits. Another moan tumbled from your mouth when your gaze shifted, dropping down to find Enzo rubbing himself over his pants.
Suddenly everything became too much. Too overwhelming. The pleasure building between your legs was rising quickly, the intensity of Mattheo’s fingers pushing deep into your centre had you moaning louder and louder. Dropping your head back, you clutched at his arm tightly, your nails sure to be leaving marks on his skin.
"Oh, god," you cried out. Mattheo paused, his fingers withdrawing slightly as he looked down at you, his brows furrowed.
Then the corner of his lips curled up before he pulled them out completely, bringing his fingers up to his mouth, tasting your juices. "Mmm...so sweet."
With a whimper, you grabbed at his collar to pull him closer. But before your lips could meet, the door flew open, a familiar head of blonde hair appearing in the doorway.
"Mattheo, come on. My father wants to introduce us to someone," Draco told him, not even waiting for a reply before he was out in the hallway again.
Your jaw dropped when your boyfriend actually stood up, making his way to the door. "Really? You're going to leave me right now?"
He just looked at you with a cheeky grin, before turning to Enzo, making the other boy rush to attempt to cover the bulge in his pants. "Take care of my girl for me while I'm gone?" he said with a wink, pulling the door closed behind him.
Silence fell over the room. All you could hear was the heavy breathing of Enzo and your own erratic breaths. He had placed a pillow on his lap, refusing to meet your eyes, his face still flushed. A newfound boldness took over you at his flustered state and you pushed yourself off your seat, slowly making your way to where he was sitting.
He gulped when you came to a stop in front of him, your thighs brushing against his knees. You caught his eyes raking down your body, halting at your hips where your short dress was still pushed up, your panties clear on display.
Then they lifted up and found yours, full of heat.
"Are you going to?" you asked him in a low voice, almost a whisper. "Are you going to take care of me?"
His hands hesitantly rose to touch the side of your thighs, his touch leaving goosebumps in their path as they travelled up your exposed skin. When they found their destination at your hips, he hooked his fingers under your panties, sliding them down and revealing your soaked core.
He licked his lips, a nervous look crossing his features as you climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Your hips rocked forward, desperate to pull another groan from him.
Slowly, Enzo brought one hand up to cup your breast, kneading it softly through the thin material of your dress before he leaned in closer, his lips leaving soft kisses along your neck. You let out a shaky breath, grinding down harder against his growing bulge. Pressing his free hand between your legs, his fingertips teasingly brushed along your folds.
A gasp escaped you as you started rocking against him, needy for more. And more he gave. Steadily, Enzo teased your sensitive bud with his talented fingers. His tongue leaving wet trails down your neck, his lips lingering against your ear. "I’ll take really good care of you. I'll make you feel so good," he rasped.
It was like he had flipped a switch, all the tension that had been simmering underneath came pouring out as he captured your lips with his. Two of his fingers pushed into you, pumping in and out at a rapid pace while his other hand pulled down the front of your dress.
Enzo's lips pulled back, quickly attaching themselves back to your skin and trailing down to your exposed breasts. Your head thrown back, the loud moans now tumbled out of you freely. "That's it, love. Let me make you feel good," he mumbled against the soft skin around your nipple, before taking the hardened peak into his mouth.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you moaned loudly, your climax exploding as his teeth grazed over your sensitive nipple, body convulsing around his fingers. Enzo’s finger’s slowed their pace and he pulled you back into another kiss, his tongue running along your lower lip, until you finally collapsed against his chest.
You took a moment to come down from your high before you started sliding your hands down his chest towards the button of his pants. His eyes widened as your fingers made quick work unbuttoning them, one hand slipping under the waistband to stroke him over the material of his underwear.
A sigh left his mouth as your fingers worked on his swollen cock, eager for some release. Enzo groaned out your name, as you pushed the restraining material down,his whole body shuddering with pleasure when you took him into your hand. You smiled smugly as you continued to pump him,  his hips thrusting forwards in response. 
Pulling his head back by grasping some of his hair, you held his gaze while lowering yourself down onto his tip, relishing in how his hands gripped onto your hips tightly.  You started rocking your hips slowly, teasing his tip, sliding it along your folds. 
He growled and bucked up against you, his body shaking with the pleasure you were bringing him. Your mouth left open mouthed kisses along his neck , sucking and biting along his sensitive skin. Enzo’s grip tightened on your hips, pulling you impossibly close to himself.
You slid further down and he gasped sharply, his fingers pushing into your skin as he pushed you down, fully driving his erection inside you.  Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you began rocking your hips faster, one of his hands sliding down to find your clit. 
He groaned in pleasure as he slammed harder into you, the friction sending sparks through your entire being. Enzo’s breathing was becoming more laboured, each thrust causing him to moan and cry out your name.
The pressure building within you threatened to burst from inside of you, and your toes curled, when you heard the door creak open behind you. Your hips stopped rocking and your hands squeezed Enzo’s shoulder blades. Both of you froze at the sound of footsteps coming closer.
"Oh, don't stop on my account," Mattheo rasped into your ear when he came to a stop behind you. "Come on, keep going." 
Your whole body stiffened at his words and your fingers dug deeper into Enzo’s shoulders. Enzo met your eyes, an unsure look on his face and his jaw clenched.  Slowly his hips started to rock up again, his movements slower than before.
Enzo’s breathing grew heavier as your hips started moving against him faster. You felt one of Mattheo's hands on your hips, pushing you down to meet Enzo's thrusts, the other coming down to smack your ass.
Mattheo let out a low chuckle at your yelp when his palm met your skin, the noise only fueling your arousal. A loud moan left Enzo’s mouth at your reaction. Mattheo's hand came up to your face, thump running over your bottom lip. "Open up, baby."
You obeyed instantly, opening your mouth to wrap your lips around his finger. You let out a small whine when he pulled it back out, resulting in another slap to your sensitive skin. Then a gasp tumbled from your mouth as he slowly pushed his saliva covered thump against the tight ring of your ass.
"Fucking hell..." Enzo breathed out when he slipped out of you and then slammed back into you again, intently watching your face as Mattheo slowly pushed his finger deeper. 
As your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you let out a louder moan, you felt Mattheo bite down on your shoulder, now pumping his finger into your ass in an agonising rhythm. Your whole body arched and shook as you felt your release getting closer with every pump of his finger. 
"Are you ready, good girl?" Mattheo nipped at your ear, the warm breath hitting your neck sending a shiver down your spine.
"Yes, please, Matty," you whined, leaning back against his chest as your eyes remained on Enzo's flushed face.
Your boyfriend muttered a quick lubrication charm before throwing his wand on the sofa behind him, replacing his finger with his already leaking tip. Your eyes clenched shut at the pleasurable pain when Mattheo slowly pushed himself into you, rocking into you gently before picking up his pace.
"God...fuck...fuck...yes!" you cried out, grabbing Enzo's biceps tightly, your nails digging in as they both started thrusting into you in sync, your muscles contracting around them. Your body trembled and your vision started fading in and out as your brain grew fuzzy. Everything faded out except the feeling of their bodies pressed against you, their moans filling the room as they pounded into you and you let the orgasm wash over you, Enzo still rubbing shapes into your sensitive bud.
Enzo cried out as he felt you clench around him,  his own body tensing as a rush of pleasure rushed through him. He let out another guttural groan as his release followed right behind yours, shooting his seed deep inside you before his hips jerked forward one final time.
Mattheo's thrust soon became even more erratic  and sloppy, his body meeting yours with heavy gasps. His teeth sunk back into the skin of your shoulder as he rode out his high. Panting in pleasure, his hands pulled you back against his chest.
You slumped against him, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes. Your chest ached as your heart beat frantically against your ribcage. You buried your face into the crook of Enzo's neck for a moment. Then you felt yourself being lifted off of Enzo's lap, Mattheo gently laying you down on the sofa next to the other boy.
Your boyfriend grabbed his wand, non-verbally casting a spell to clean the both of you up before sitting down himself and pulling you up onto his legs, leaving a kiss on your forehead.
"You can go now," he snapped at Enzo, who quickly scrambled to pull his pants back up and leave the room. You let out a soft laugh at his flustered expression, resting your head on Mattheo's chest.
Mattheo leaned down to press his lips to the top of your head, asking with a teasing tone, "Was this what you had in mind this morning?"
Tumblr media
Mattheo + Enzo Taglist: @slytherinboysappreciation @urmomsgirlfriend1 @remussbitch @nighttimewrites @starsval @gillyweeds @sir-elian @harryslittlebitch @thatblackthorn @gayforyelena @whoreforfictionalmen18 @darkacademicvibes @marauderswhxre @ravenclawprincess33 @sbrn0905 @atadoddinnit @helpimhopelesslyinlove @carav4l
Tumblr media
Masterlist
Requesting Guidelines
Get Added To The Taglist
1K notes · View notes
Text
baby, do you want to come home with me?
Tumblr media
Eddie Munson x Reader
Giving in to the tension feels good
Word count: 702
Contents: Making out. Pre-smut and getting handsy in a bathroom. Female reader (one use of 'her'). Title from Wet Dream, by Wet Leg.
Author’s note: This has been sitting half-finished in my docs named 'untilted eddie make out' for well over a month. It's barely read-over or edited, but here you go, Eddie girls. Come get your man!
Tumblr media
His breath is hot against your lips, tinged with smoke and hops. That smokey scent blends with spicy aftershave and the earthy fug of green. Every molecule of you feels aflame, sparked by the slide of his tongue against yours and the gentle command he leads with. He is addictive and you need another taste. 
After weeks of tension building, attraction growing stronger each time you saw each other instead of waning, you both gave in tonight. And oh are you glad you did. 
Eddie smiles when your mouths meet again; another deep kiss to make you melt between him and the scuffed brick wall at your back. He holds you tighter, closer, and presses up against you to make sure you don’t trickle away into a puddle or twirl off back to the dance floor with your ‘come get me’ eyes. He wants you a little longer and fancies his chances of getting to take you home tonight. 
He need not worry; the only place you're going is to find a cab, then home to your place or to his. The music is less loud here, but the base rumbles between your twisted-together bodies.
You can feel him, thick and hard and warm against you through double layers of denim - his and hers. There is buttery leather and surprisingly soft curls beneath your fingers, the sharp line of his flexed jaw and the cool hardware on his jacket. He makes you feel greedy for wanting all of it, all of him, the soft and the hard parts (but especially the hard part tonight). 
He makes this little noise when you tug his hair and his jaw falls slack when your nails catch on his scalp just right. You make a note of that for later as he licks into your mouth again, making you keen for him as he pairs that slow deep slide with the firm press of his thigh between your legs that feels so good. Your hips take up a slow roll, encouraged and steadied by his hand at the top of your ass and the perfect press of your jeans right there.
You’re not sure where he begins or where you end anymore, with blurred edges and winding limbs even when you break for breath briefly. A hammering fist on the door is just about enough to halt your kisses - but only after a couple of tries on the handle and an unsuccessful first knock. 
“Hello?!! Come on, man, I need to piss!” 
“Hold the fuck on.” 
Eddie’s voice is rough, a sharp pissed-off bark that echoes around the bar bathroom as you hide your warm face against his chest and give in to a dose of the giggles.
“Somethin’ funny?” he asks, soft just for you. 
His smile is stained with your lipstick, and you do your best to swipe the worst of it away with your thumb as you float back down to earth. He does a little to fix the smear below your lip, tender from kissing and the nip of Eddie’s sharp teeth. 
“I think they’re going to know…” you murmur, resisting the urge to take one more taste for yourself.
There will be no hiding it from whoever is banging on the door, whoever is queued up behind them with their full bladders and baggies of coke. It was not like either of you were subtle enough to fool your friends, even before you both disappeared together tonight. Not with your matching stained mouths, or Eddie’s tighter-now jeans. Not when you leave together tonight and arrive for breakfast together in the morning.
“Is that so bad?” 
You give in to that need for one more kiss, slow and sweet unlike the last one. It says enough to answer his question. 
Loud music and the sound of your own heart beating hard are not quite enough to drown out the complaints and wolf-whistles as you leave the locked bathroom together. Eddie leads again with confidence, bolstered by your lipstick on his face and your hand in his back pocket. Neither of you miss how the table of your friends raise their bottles and glasses as you pass them, a few bills exchanged for bets placed as you go find that cab and decide ‘your place or mine?’ 
Tumblr media
Thank you for reading 🖤 Reblogs, likes & comments are loved and cherished
658 notes · View notes
grugruel · 20 days
Note
I am-- in DESPERATE need of Prewar cooper Howard FILTHY smut. Taking his Co-star in his trailer on set on a hot summer's day and they're both sweaty and needy and he's got a FILTHY mouth on him. maybe she plays the damsel in distress and he can't get over how good she looks all tied up 🔥 she definitely enjoys teasing him but takes it too far,, poor cooper 😔😏
Yessss, currently feeling feral, so this was perfect. Did my best, hope you love it🫶
Quiet on set
Pairings: pre-war!Cooper Howard x f!reader
NSFW/MDNI
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Summary: wrapping yet another movie together, these co-stars take out their constant tension in Coopers trailer.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: (acted violence and death), pinv sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, edging, lap-riding, cowgirl, doggy, bratty reader, petnames (sweetheart, princess, girl, woman), praise, slight degradation, choking (blink and you'll miss it).
AN: Currently working through my requests, it might take some time for those of you that sent them in! But I appreciate you all, thank you!!
Tumblr media
I could feel that heavy, star-studded aura bearing it's weight down on me, his eyes ransacking every part of my body as he awaited his cue. Through the blinding stage lights, just out off frame, he stood hungry, hands white-knuckling his belt as his teeth sank into his bottom lip.
'Help! Somebody please save me!' I cried out, the rattling railroad tracks cool beneath my body. The air stuffy and clammy, the mid summer heat penetrating the studio walls. Truly making the desert set come alive.
Enter The Man from Deadhorse, walking into the picture with his signature gait, spurs jingling and eyes acting as he stared my captor down. Heat practically burning in his gaze when he delivered the infamouse line, "Feo, fuerty, y formal."
Although, a growing suspicion resided–perhaps it was not acting at all, but rather me, that had him ignite that way.
The bang of a revolver shot out, hitting the antagonist right between the eyes as a result of an experienced and deadly aim.
Dignified indeed.
I yelped, making my eyes big with shock. 'You came!' And then let a relived smile soften my expression.
The sound of a charging train began rolling, a billowing steam engine and a piping whistle thundering along a busy railroad. But it was no worry anymore, I was to be saved.
The sheriff's attention–his starved eyes, switched to me, and my bound form.
Swiftly, he moved over the dusty desert set in his blue and yellow getup. In a second of harrowing anticipation, placed in clever calculation to have the viewers at the edge of their seats, he loomed over me, that infamous gaze following every curve of my body. The rope circling me in such a way it accentuated my goods, and what the cameras did not see, was a ravenous smirk on the hero's lips–holding a silent promise ment only for me.
In a flashy movement, he cut the rope from my body and pulled me off of the tracks and into his embrace, the camera panning to us as the sound of the train just missing our bodies passed by the frame.
'Don't worry sweetheart, you're safe now.' He purred, voice drawling with that trademark smile accenting his lips, lips that only a second later collided with my own in a strong, righteous kiss-
'CUT!' A voice bellowed, and the set bustled to life with congratualations and handshakes as they were traded between the crew and cast, celebrating yet another wrap.
But his lips had stayed on mine for a second or two too long, and I had to pull away. Gasping for air, pretending that we simply hadn't heard the call over the ruckus.
'My trailer in 10 minutes, honey. Don't be late. . . I got a surprise for you.' He whispered in my ear, disguising our continued embrace as a friendly, celebrating hug. A hug with a condensed, slap off the ass–hard enough to sting, quiet enough to go undetected.
And with a wink, he was off. Chatting and laughing while coworkers patted his back with him returning the gesture. Meanwhile I myself became wrapped up in party-ready colleagues of my own. But the partying would have to wait, I had somewhere far more fulfilling to be.
I hadent been able to keep the 10 minute mark, the cast and crew had stuck around for longer than I'd thought. Which made sneaking to his trailer all the more difficult, but I managed. Eventually.
I opened the door to a dark, even hotter cabin, no movement or noise that I could detect. But the second I shut that door behind me, he revealed himself.
'There you are. . .' A low voice growled from the shadows. Then there was a sound of groaning threads, a woosh, and I was captured. A lasso had been thrown around my body, pinning my arms to my sides as I was blindly pulled into the depths of the darkness, and collided with something, strong, something hard. 'You kept me waitin' princess. Fame gone to your head already?' The words were breathed against my cheek, puffs of his sultry breath warming my already damp skin deliciously.
'I imagine I'll be on your level soon.' I hooked my index fingers through his belt loops, eyes adjusting to the dark as I pullied him closer with what little movement I was allowed. 'Now, I want my surprise.' I pouted, brushing my lips along his, the features of his face clearing up like the sea after a storm.
'This is it.' He flexed the rope between his fingers, feeling its coarse texture. Taking my bottom lip between his teeth and tugged.
'My surprise is a rope?' I could't hide the sound of disappointment from my voice. 'Should I start playing the damsel now or? Oh. . . Please Sheriff save me!' I mocked.
'Yes the rope is you're surprise.' He paused. 'What makes you so sure I'll play the sheriff, huh?' He tightened the rope around me to emphasize. 'Perhaps I captured you.'
'Oh?' I was truly intrigued, but sighed an overly dramatic sigh, just cause I was hoping it'd get a rise out of him. 'C'mon now, cowboy. You can do better than that–thought I was your special girl.' I teased, eyeing his dark form through my lashes as I used his own words against him.
He nudged his nose against my cheek, his lips moving into a grin along my jaw. 'You are my special girl. . .' He confirmed, voice gravely as he pressed his hips against mine, letting me feel the hardness beneath his pants. '. . .and my special girl will be fucking pleadin' when this rope has served its purpose.' The lasso was thrown into serveral more circles around my upper body, wrapping me tighter as he imitated what he'd seen on set.
'That a threat?' I groaned, his stiffness rubbing against my mound. Creating friction so wonderful I found my hips automatically flexing against his. More. I needed more.
'A promise.' He fell back onto a couch. 'You'd better start ridin' before I put that big mouth of yours to better use.' He tugged on the lasso, helping me fall into position stradeling his lap.
I settled with a whimper, my core veiled by the thin fabric of my skirt as it made direct contact with his clothed member. But with the way I was bound, he'd restricted my arms further, they were unmovable infact. I couldn't support myself, couldn't unbutton his pants. 'Can't reach. . .' I whined, frustrated that I couldn't get his fucking dick out.
He hummed. 'Mmm, serves you right, dont it?' He pulled my skirt over my hips, and grasped the rope around my waist, making a point of not touching me as he pushed me downward and pulled forward, grinding my core against the coarse fabric of his pants. 'Now, ride.' He growled, the friction affecting him as much as me. For I had a simular reaction, if not worse.
The air was sucked right out of me, but I did as he ordered. Grinding my hips into his lap, over and over again, moaning curses left and right. But however much I tried I couldn't losen my restraints, couldn't get a grip on any part of him to work myself harder against him. I was stuck in a rut of superficial pleasure, with his occasional torturing tug. I just wanted to feel him, his touch, on me, in me. I didn't care, juat somewhere.
'Touch me.' I whispered, my head lulling against his shoulder as I desperatley tried increasing the friction.
He hummed, a breathy and guttural sound as he replied, 'Starvin' already?' He leaned closer, mouth hovering just above that sweet spot on my neck.
'Yes, yes.' I placed a kiss on his throat, grateful for what he was about to bestow me-
My button-down blouse was ripped open, buttons flying everywhere with a loud clatter as they hit the floor, the expensive prop ruined too quickly. 'Plead.' His rough knuckles brushed over the beginning of my breast, as they were now bare for him.
I gasped, 'What?' lust driven confusion clouding my mind. The stifling heat didn't help my mind to clear either.
'Plead, sweetheart.' He repeated, his murmur vibrating against my skin.
It was my turn to grin, my turn to drag my exposed teeth along his jugular, my lips closing around them as I kissed his jaw tenderly. 'I dont think so.' I purred, readying myself to stand up. 'Guess I'll have to find some other man the sate my needs.' I licked a stripe along his jaw before sitting back. 'My very, very. . . Slick needs.' And scootched back, leaving a wet inprint on the convex bulge of his jeans.
But before I could do anything too drastic, he grabbed my waist, he touched me, and pulled me back into a perch. A small victory for me, but the battle wast over yet. Now, our heads leveled with eachother. 'Don't you dare.' The jealousy was evident in his tone. 'Filthy little brat. . .' He hissed, 'I can play that game too, sweetheart.' He began unbuttoning his pants with the other hand, pulling his erect member out.
And drool dripped from my mouth as I got a good view of it, but he didn't lift me up and enter me, no. That would be too merciful. He simply pushed my undergarments to the side and pulled me closer, my slick cunt sliding over his length, wetting it as he let me feel the size of him, what I could get, but wasn't allowed. 'You aint to only woman in this cast.' His mouth trailed downward, lips following the valley between my breasts, the tip of his nose and chin collecting droplets of sweat along my skin.
His words stung, and even though I knew he only said them to rile me up, they worked. I didn't answer him, didn't deign to give him any words, but carefully began moving my hips instead, easing them into a slow rocking, and the few seconds I got were jaw dropping. I hoped he somehow just wouldn't notice, foolishly enough.
He hardened his grip, holding me steady, unmovable, as if he'd bound my lower body together aswell. 'Naughty fucking brat.' He leered.
Fuck, I just needed something, anything. The aching was building within me, unadultered want for pleasure. Pleasure which only he could give me.
'Fuck. Me.' It was an order, no sign of begging in my tone.
'Plead for me, woman.' He dragged the word out, chuckling. That ravenous grin on his lips he nipped at the soft flesh of my breast.
'Cocky bastard.' I scoffed, but yielded. 'Please. Fuck. Me.' But there was no weight behind them, the words fighting to stay in my mouth, coming out strained.
He cocked his head to the side, eyes searching my own as amusement filled them. 'C'mon now, you can do better than that.' He threw my words back at me.
But the desperation was seeping through my skin, into my quaking muscles and quivering bones. 'Please, please, please. . . Fuck me, Cooper. Oh, you big, famous movie star.' I whimpered. This time, meaning every word, although some in a more mocking fashion than others.
He faced me again, grinning as he shook his head in disbelief. 'Wicked fucking woman, I'll fuck some sense into you yet.'
'I dont think you have it in you, cowboy.' It took everything in me to keep my lips from curlingig into a smile-
Suddenly, I found my face pushed into the soft cushions of the couch. One hand pushed me down firmer by the neck, while the other lined himself up with my entrance. He stroked the tip through my folds, teasing me torturousley slow. The aching grew so strong I thought I'd break into a million pieces right then and there. 'Please. . .' I begged, the word half a whimper. '. . .please.' I had no self restraint left, no morals or standards to keep up. I just needed him, inside me. Now.
'About, damn time.' He pushed inside of me, wasting no time by setting grueling pace that had my body shaking. Muffled moans and whimpers escaped me, there was not a thought in my mind. No room for anything but him inside me. 'Yeah? You like that? Filthy girl. . .' He groaned, his hand colliding hard with my ass. The slap ringing out through the cabin, and it was glorious.
I nodded, or did the best I could while the force of his hold constricted my movements.
He hummed again, that low titillating hum. And leaned over me, bracing himself on the forearm that held my neck. His body laying flush over mine as his hips struck into mine, deeper, harder. His lips brushed against my ear, opening his mouth to whisper-
Raised voices, approaching, shouting outside the trailer. 'Better stay quiet now, sweetheart.' He breathed, and just then, out of spite, he struck into me harder, only to see if I could keep us secret. But I wanted to scream, needed to. So, I shoved my face into the cushion, muffling my crying out.
'Thats it. . . Good girl.' He praised, moaning the words against the shell of my ear. And as the voices approached, he slowed the thrusting, keeping the depth but dimming the strength. Softening the loud lewdness of our slapping bodies. His hand slid around my front, finding me clit with easy expertice. 'Good girl.' He breathed again, kissing my earlobe. As if it was my award for doing as I was told. 'Sticking my dick in you was all I had to do to fix that attitude of yours?' His fingers began rubbing circles over my clit, stimulating my already pulsating body further.
'Yes. . .' I whimpered, 'Yes, yes, yes.' And his hand moved to my throat, placing it between my jugular and jaw, tilting my face a sliver closer to his. 'Kiss me, please.' I pleaded, and he met my lips. His hungry, hungry lips surpassing the neediness my ownas be pushed his tongue into my mouth. He tasted heavenly.
The voices had passed since long, their drunk celebrating dissapearing beyond the lot. And his thrusts grew equally hungry once again, pushing into me, hitting my spot with reverance. The pressure was building, threatening to spill over the edge with every flick of his hips. 'Close. . .' I moaned into his mouth, my breath coating his lips.
'Yeah?' He moved his lips, kissing my cheek and down my throat.
'Yeah.' I shuddered, my whimpering indicating how close I was to release. The ramping, strained breaths between us almost sent me over the edge alone, white spots flecking my lids, lightning neighing in my nerves, the wall so close to collapsing-
And he pulled out, releasing my clit and pushed himself off of me.
No, no, no, Cooper please.' I whined, the pressure dissapearing, slowly seeping out into nothingness.
'There you go, sweetheart. Now you're pleadin' properly. . .' He basked in my despair, that smug grin of his adorning his face in all it's glory. He uncircled the rope, pulled me to his chestand twisted us, making us swap positions, with me once agains tradeling him as he laid on his back below me. 'Now ride me properly too.'
Oh I was, and I would get my revenge. I pulled my blouse and skirt off, I would have him pleading and squirming when I was done with him. 'That's more like it.' His eyes ravaged my body, staying longer on my nipples and hips, and cunt. 'Pretty little brat.' His tone so self-righteous it would've made me scoff, but I played along. Snaking my body against his, I wrapped my hands around his, finally able to touch him and pinned them both above his head. Then sat up and aligned myself with his length, slowly sinking down, greedily accepting every inch as he hissed. It dulled the pain he'd left me in, his member filling me up made me whole again.
But I wasn't done yet. Leaning in, I kissed him, distracted him, and carefully grabbed the discarded lasso. He would be pleading, he would.
And after a moment I sat back up, hands on his chest. Pushing him back down as he tried to follow me. Which is when he realised, that his arms wouldn't budge.
'Mmmh. . .' He chuckled, '. . .clever girl.'
I nodded, hands tracing down his sculpted abdomen. Transfering from his body to my own, I let them roam. Moving them along my hips, waist, stumache, breasts, throat. Just watching, enjoying every second of his growing displeasure, of his twitching and leaking inside me.
'Plead, cowboy.' I sqeezed my breasts, whimpering form the feeling. 'I'd much rather have you touching me.'
His lips drew into a thin line, hips bucking into me, slithering for any movement, any stimulation. 'It must be hurting.' I murmured, 'You can end it, just plead.'
His breaths were ragged, guttural and groaning. 'Cruel, cruel woman.'
'Now you're getting it.' I smirked. 'Plead. . .'
He scoffed, eyes hard as he opened his mouth, 'Please. . .' He mustered the word through clenched teeth.
Oh it felt amazing, the word as much as his member as I began moving along it, riding him. 'Fuck.' He grunted. 'When I get loose, girl-'
I laid my index finger against his lips, shushing him. Enjoying the sound of our wet squelching, his hard breaths and my own moans. I leaned down, my body rubbing against his while I kissed his chest and made my way along his collarbone.
'Why don't you give my lips some love too, girl.' He moaned, and I figured I could give him that at least. My lips met his jaw, bushed along his lips and then-
He grabbed me, locked his arms around my torso in a grip of steel, as he thrusted into me, rocking me violently into his arms.
'You really think I've never been tied up by a lover before?' He grunted, pushing his tongue into my mouth. And just like that, the pressure was rebuilt and released, washing over me in electric waves, shocking my body and nervous system.
'Easy girl, there you go.' He held me still, pecking me with kisses wherever he reached as he let my quivering body do what it needed, he himself coming moments later with a few last thrusts. And I collapsed on top of him, the strong rise and fall of his chest helping me calm my breathing.
'Wanna go again, movie star?' I asked.
'Which position, cowgirl?' He answered.
522 notes · View notes
slytherinslut0 · 7 months
Text
MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me
Chapter Three- Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.
(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Thèos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)
Tags: 18+, PURE SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Oral Sex (M Rec), Throat Fucking, Toxic Behaviour, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Humiliation, Manipulation, Gagging, Spitting, DubCon, CNC.
**here’s: one, two, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen & twenty.
Tumblr media
As you approached the door of the familiar private classroom, a subtle sense of unease gnawed at the edges of your confidence.
Admittedly you got lost in the depths of your homework after dinner, becoming absorbed in the swirls of ink on your parchment, diligently crafting your Astronomy essay due in a mere three weeks from now. The minutes seemingly slipped away, and you realized you were running late for today's tutoring session, the devastating consequence of your intense focus on your academic obligations.
However, considering Mattheo's habitual tardiness--one of which he has mastered as well as any given art form--you assumed your delay wouldn't be at all consequential, and would most likely even go unnoticed. So without really thinking twice about it, you gently pushed open the door, expecting the room to be empty, the usual silence welcoming you as you stepped inside.
But then, to your astonishment, the room was not vacant. There he was, Mattheo Riddle, perched on the chair with an air of casual authority. His long legs were stretched out before him, feet confidently resting on the desk's edge, displaying a newfound confidence that sent a shiver down your spine. His arms were folded, his posture exuding an almost predatory assurance. His eyes, dark as the night and twice as intense, followed your every move as you stepped inside. The atmosphere crackled with tension, the weight of his gaze pressing upon you.
You closed the door with a deliberate slowness, the soft click echoing through the room like a gunshot in the silence, and his eyes locked onto yours, silently challenging you.
"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up." He taunted, his voice laced with a poisonous charm. The room seemed to shrink in the wake of his suffocating arrogance. "Guess Ravenclaws little good girl isn't so perfect after all...who would have guessed."
You rolled your eyes, a flush of embarrassment staining your cheeks as you awkwardly dropped your gaze to the floor. The weight of being late for the first time in your life was almost palpable, but you made an effort to play it off, attempting to regain your composure despite the lingering discomfort.
"Save the mind games for someone who's willing to play, Riddle," you said, slowly making your way toward him. "You have no right to talk, you're late every single week."
"Yeah but I'm not the one who turns into a sobbing mess over a less-than-perfect grade," Mattheo sneered, his tone dripping with disdain. "I don't have mental breakdowns just because I'm not the class's golden child in everything, and I'm definitely not the one who's about to graduate in merely a few months while still a fucking virgin-"
Your jaw dropped in astonishment at his audacity, a surge of indignation propelling you to slam your bag down on the desk in front of him. The force of your action knocked his feet off the desk, abruptly interrupting whatever sentence he had intended to finish, leaving him silenced in disbelief.
"At least I'm going to fucking graduate without needing someone to hold my hand like a child." You hissed, the words slipping past your teeth before you even had a chance to process them. "For someone who needs me so much, you sure don't act like you appreciate my help."
Mattheo's eyes darkened, a storm of arrogance and anger swirling in their depths, transforming his usual stoic demeanor into a deep scowl etched across his face. He rose from his seat, his tall frame looming over you, casting a shadow that seemed to stretch across the room.
"You think I need you, Raven?" He purred, wetting his lips. "You really think that?"
You steeled your jaw, strengthening your stance, ignoring the fact that your fingers were trembling like leaves in the autumn wind.
"Where would you be without me, Riddle?" You whispered, kinking your neck back to catch his dark, hungry eyes. "How many tutors did you have before me? How many other students tried to help you but couldn't stand your arrogant, no-fucks-given attitude, hm?"
Your words draped the air with a palpable gravity, silencing Mattheo completely--an unprecedented reaction, given his usual quick retorts. The revelation ignited a fierce ember within you, fueling your resolve and lending a sharp edge to your words, as if each syllable carried the weight of your determination.
"That's what I thought..." your voice was low, reverberating as a mere whisper in the air, something flickering behind Mattheo's eyes that made your lips curl into a devilish smirk. "You know that without me, you'd be here forever...maybe you've managed to manipulate me into being your little toy, but that doesn't change the truth about this whole thing...you need me, Riddle, you fucking need me..."
Mattheo blinked, the ensuing silence lingering for what felt like a painful fucking eternity--time seemed to come to a standstill, everything around you fading into insignificance, leaving just you and the cunning, arrogant boy with tousled hair in your presence.
When he finally spoke, You couldn't shake the sinking feeling in your stomach, understanding all too well that his words were laced with an arrogant twist, a prelude to something manipulative and cunning yet to unfold.
"You're right," he finally said, stepping closer. "I do need you,"
His voice dipped into a low, sinister register, and the corners of his lips curled into a sadistic smile, sending a chill down your spine.
"I need you to watch your fucking mouth," the touch of his fingers on your arm nearly made you jump, his hand grazing up and over your shoulder. "I need you on your knees begging for my forgiveness," the pads of his fingers grazed your collarbone, and before you could even comprehend it, his large hand clasped around your throat, the other finding the small of your back as he pushed you up against the desk. "And then, I need you swallowing my fucking cum like the good little whore I know you are."
Without wasting a single second of time his plush lips attacked yours, his tongue delving past your teeth with a passionate urgency. You were painfully aware of Mattheo's manipulative tactics, understanding that he was using your vulnerability to his advantage, and the rational part of your mind screamed warnings at you, reminding you of the toxicity in his actions.
Yet, beneath the surface; as his hands roamed your curves, his tongue explored your mouth; an unsettling, exhilarating feeling lingered, a strange sort of affection for the very dominance that should have repelled you.
The awareness of his exploitation only intensified the rush, a twisted form of affection blossoming amidst the wrongness of it all. It was as if the knowledge of being used had become entangled with your desires, forming a paradoxical bond that you couldn't sever. In the midst of the moral turmoil, a dark, irresistible thrill coursed through your veins, leaving you helplessly drawn to the very thing you should have despised.
"You've been a very naughty girl, Raven..." his lips fell to your jawline, hands groping your curves, bunching the fabric of your uniform within his battered fists. "You've been swearing far too much...you were late...and now you want to act like you have power over me?" When he sunk his teeth into your earlobe, you yelped, flinching as he tightened his grip on your hips. "Don't get it twisted, princess...I hold the fucking power here...look at what I do to you..."
Your entire body was tingling, your fingers latching onto the fabric of his white button up dress shirt for dear fucking life.
"Mattheo-"
His lips fell lower, rough hands gripping your hips and shoving your ass back onto the desk behind you, parting your legs on either side of his strong body as he pulled you against him.
"This is what I do to good girls like you...I turn them into naughty little whores..." he purred, licking a flat line up the side of your throat, your lids involuntary fluttering shut at the breathtaking sensation. "...naughty little whores who take my cock and swallow my fucking cum."
His hands slid up your sides, taking the fabric of your skirt along with them, and you gasped as you felt it hike dangerously high up your thighs, trembling fingers tugging it back down to keep yourself covered.
Mattheo huffed, releasing the fabric. "You're not used to being bad though, are you, princess?"
His teeth sank into your collarbone, creating a tantalizing blend of pleasure and pain that sent shivers down your spine. Strands of his tousled hair caressed your cheek, the faintest whisper of a touch sending tingles across your skin. Your lips parted involuntarily, releasing a soft whimper, while Mattheo's response echoed in a deep, guttural groan that reverberated through the air, intensifying the charged atmosphere between you.
One hand gripped your jaw as he pulled back, meeting your eyes. "Answer me when I ask you a question."
Your breath hitched, flames roaring in your veins. "No, Mattheo...I'm not..."
"Mm," he purred, wetting his lips as he stared. "Do you know what happens to bad girls, Raven?"
Your stomach twisted as he tugged you closer by the hold on your jaw, his eyes darkening with desire as they darted across your face, seemingly examining your features as though they were precarious and new.
Your voice trembled. "No..."
"They get fucking punished."
Before you could respond, Mattheo shifted his hand, shoving two rough fingers between your teeth, reaching for the back of your throat and forcing a gag. Your eyes watered, beads of salty fluid threatening to spill down your cheeks, but he was unyielding, gripping the back of your neck with his other hand to force himself further down your throat--holding you in place while he did.
Your entire body was in flames, your thighs begging, fucking screaming in a need so disgustingly dirty you'd never experienced anything remotely close to it before.
Mattheo groaned, low in his chest, his dark eyes watching every single ministration of your face as you gagged on his fingers. The hand behind your head relented as he brought it to his crotch, palming the insistent bulge in his trousers as he watched you; seemingly not having blinked once.
"Unbutton your shirt," his voice was a hoarse whisper, laced with primal desire. He pushed his fingers deeper, clearing his throat. "Seal those filthy lips around my fingers, and unbutton your fucking shirt, princess..."
You cursed the fact that his body was separating your legs because all you wanted, more than anything on the face of the planet, was to squeeze your fucking thighs together--to give your cunt any sort of friction possible. Every word from his lips was doing inexplicable things to your body, and the need between your thighs was growing so insistent it was almost painful.
Following his commands, you sealed your lips around his fingers, swirling your tongue and bobbing your head painfully slowly as you teased him, trembling fingers moving to the buttons on your blouse and undoing them one by one until your chest was entirely exposed to him--your lungs stalled, pussy clenching as you watched his eyes darken with desire while they scanned your chest covered only by your navy laced bra, the hand on his crotch moving more insistently now.
"My fucking God, Raven," he breathed, jaw tensing so tight it looked painful. "I can't believe you've been keeping all of that hidden this whole time..."
You mewled involuntarily as he grazed your chest with his free hand, pushing his fingers deeper down your throat with enough intensity to make you cough as his demeanour switched and he palmed your breast with enough force to illicit an exasperated groan. He was possessed now, something swarming his pupils that made your entire body convulse with unfamiliar and unabashed need; you were almost certain there'd be a pool of your desire on the desk between your thighs at this point.
Without warning, he abruptly removed his hands from you. Your lips, parted in anticipation of a breath, yearned for air before his mouth enveloped yours once more. In a frenzy, his hands hurriedly reached for his belt, driven by an almost desperate urgency as you both inhaled sharply through your nostrils. Your lips meshed together in a way that seemed to consume each other, as if you could breathe in one another during the kiss.
Once he'd successfully freed himself, he pulled back, shoving his fingers back into your mouth and yanking you off the desk, his throbbing length pressing against your belly as he shoved himself against you; fingers forcing another gag from your chest, watching you with a primal fervour in his eyes so intense it was intoxicating.
Pulling his fingers from your mouth again, he cupped his hand out in front of you. "Spit."
Your brows furrowed in confusion, your brain buffering in attempt to process his words until his free hand shot into your hair, tilting your head until your lips were parallel to his palm.
"Spit, Raven," he repeated. "Spit into my fucking hand."
Your stomach contorted with a mix of disbelief and unfamiliar desire, your entire being thrown off balance. Each word that fell from his lips felt like a jolt, causing your heart to stutter in your chest. His eyes bored into you, searing your skin into flames, and without another moment's hesitation, you gathered the saliva he had coerced from you and spat it into his hand.
"Mm, that's it...good little whore..." He purred, bringing it down to his cock, rubbing it into his shaft as he stroked himself, eyes never once leaving yours. "Now, get on your knees for me, pretty girl."
Your breath caught in your throat. He, of all people, had just called you "pretty," and you were certain your ears were playing some sort of trick on you. It was a compliment you never expected from him, someone you had never imagined would see you in such a way. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you did as he said, squeezing your thighs together as you situated yourself in front of his feet.
Mattheo's hand remained in your hair, firmly gripping a fistful as he stroked himself. "Hands behind your back, Raven..." he muttered. "Let me see those delicious fucking tits of yours."
Your entire body shuddered, immediately clasping your hands together behind you without a second thought.
"That's it...fuck-" he was stroking himself faster, the veins in his hands tensing with every movement. You weren't sure who was enjoying this more, him or you. "You want this, princess? You want this cock in your dirty little mouth?"
Your throat was drier than the desert, each swallow a struggle against the arid emptiness within. Fingernails dug into your own flesh with a fierce intensity, the pressure threatening to break through the skin, mirroring the internal turmoil that gripped you. Holy fucking shit.
"Yes..." your voice was a pathetic whisper.
"Don't be so modest, Raven," he sneered, slowing his pace, twisting his wrist as he stroked his shaft, eyes never once leaving yours. "Beg for it."
Your stomach was in your throat. You'd never done anything like that before, you weren’t even really sure how. "I...um-please, Mattheo..."
His eyes fluttered shut for the briefest moment, a flicker of amusement dancing across his features before he locked eyes with you once more, his arrogance wrapping around the room like a suffocating cloak.
"Bloody hell, I said beg for it...does the prissy little princess not know how to fucking beg?" his voice was a hoarse growl, his vocal cords strained with lust. "Tell me how bad you want my cock, Raven, tell me how much you need it."
You couldn't believe your ears; the turn of events in your life felt utterly surreal. Never in your entire existence could you have imagined that this is where you'd find yourself right now--merely a few months away from graduation, on your knees for the most suffocatingly arrogant delinquent in the school who was making you beg to suck his fucking dick. A man who only last year wouldn't have paid you an ounce of mind, who probably didn’t even know you existed.
Your cheeks burned, but you fought through it, the arousal in your lungs fuelling your words. "Please, Mattheo...I want your cock so bad, I want you in my mouth, I want to choke on it, I want you to fuck my throat until you cum-"
His grip on your hair tightened, simultaneous with the grip on his cock as he cranked your head back, leaning down to meet your eyes; his lips hovering mere inches above yours.
"My God, you're a dirty fucking slut, aren't you?" He purred, smirking so wide it reached his eyes, his fingers bruising your scalp. "A dirty fucking slut whose sole purpose is to let me use her mouth whenever I want, yeah?"
You swallowed, wincing as he jerked your head back further, fucking into his fist faster, harder. "Yes, Mattheo..."
He sneered, clearly loving every fucking minute of this. "Imagine if anyone saw you like this...fuck-you're fucking filthy..." his voice was breathless, if you didn't know any better you'd think he was about to make himself cum before you had the chance to suck him off. "Apologize for being such a nasty little slut and I'll let you swallow my cum."
Your thighs clenched in need, your wetness seeping through your panties at this point. Gods, you wanted him so fucking bad you thought you were going to die.
"I'm sorry," you pleaded, eyes wide as you peered up at him, nearly-speechless. "I'm sorry for being a nasty little slut."
"That's right..." he purred, directing the head of his cock toward your mouth, groaning as your pressed your lips to it. "Good girl...fuck-so good for me..."
Your entire body was in flame, hands still clasped together behind your back as both of his thrust tightly through your hair, absentmindedly sealing your lips around his shaft, revelling in his skin's heat, dragging your tongue along the throbbing, pulsing underside. Riddle growled, bucking his hips, and you took him further into your mouth, gagging as his tip slammed the back of your throat.
"You take me so well, Raven..." he breathed, head falling back on his shoulders, eyes fluttering shut as his hands urged your head along his length. "Can't believe a mouth that annoying can feel this fucking good."
You groaned in assent, sucking hard at his cock as he slowly started to fuck your throat. You were both struggling to breathe, both losing control, both lost in an ocean of primal, urgent carnality. Pleasure was straining your seams, ready to explode inside of you, drool dribbling in globs from your chin, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you tried to hold the boundaries of your sanity together.
"Mm, fuck..." Riddle's grip was crushing your skull. "I changed my mind…I'm gonna' cum on those perfect tits, princess..."
Your bones almost liquefied at this--but you steadied your knees, gagging as he started fucking into your throat faster, thrusting deep, your eyes disappearing into the back of your head as you allowed him to use your mouth as a helpless hole for him to fuck--singlehandedly loving every fucking second of it.
"Shit-" he groaned, eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck."
Your thighs clenched, brain fogged by a hurricane of lust, but when he pulled out, abruptly, your cognition returned--your vision clearing to an image of Riddle, red-faced, fucking his fist. Snarling, he jerked your hair, and choked on his moan, the sound stuttering while he shot the hot loads of his cum onto your chest and neck. He sucked down air in long, heavy breaths, waiting until the end of his release had dissipated, and then dropped you, stepping back to marvel at his masterpiece. You swore steam was wafting off your skin.
"Beautiful," he murmured. He pieced himself back together, buckling his belt. "Tell me how I taste."
Every inch of you tingled, chest heaving, jaw slack in an open pant. Keeping his stare, you brought a trembling hand to your chest, swiping his sticky cum off your tits and trailing it past your lips, slowly sucking it off your first two fingers. The taste melding with the mere prospect of what was happening elicited a low moan from your chest, and you shuddered, trapped in his gaze until you were finished.
"Salty." You teased, smirking up at him.
"Salty, huh?” He huffed, a devious grin on his face as he helped you up to your feet, rough palm grasping your forearm. "Important mineral for a balanced meal, yeah?"
You chuckled, heat swarming your skin as you stammered up to your feet, meeting his darkened eyes as you began buttoning up your shirt, taking in his newly flushed features--curly brown hair slightly sticking to his forehead before he ran a battered hand through it, brushing it back.
“Smartass,” you grumbled, turning toward the desk. “Next week we have an exam, so there won’t be a tutor session, you know that right?”
He released a breath, throwing himself into the usual creaky wooden chair beside yours. “Guess that just means you’ll have to do that again before the nights’ over,” he said. “You know, to compensate for next week.”
You rolled your eyes, failing to hide your smirk. “In your dreams, Riddle.”
“Oh, definitely not, princess.” He breathed, glimpsing you briefly. “In my dreams you do a hell of a lot more than that.”
——————
Chapter four->
1K notes · View notes
austinbutlerslovers · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Mr. Butlers Babysitter
Label mature 18+
Summary
When you began working as a babysitter for Mr. Butler you were immediately taken by his wonderful children and his beautiful Malibu estate, he also paid handsomely. Having worked for celebrities on a referral based system you prided yourself on being professional and discreet for his family.
With Mr. Butler recently divorced having you help him with the children during their weekend visits from their mother was a godsend. After two months his daughter and son adored you to pieces never wanting you to leave. It seemed like a perfect fit.
One fateful evening Mr. Butler puts you in a highly compromising position. One that could ruin your reputation and your livelihood if word got out. You have two choices: Be exploited never to work in the inner circle as a high status celebrity babysitter again. or go along with his perverted plans.
🚨 Depraved Smut 🚨
corruption kink•dubcon•manipulation• humiliation• degradation •naivety •drug use•alchohol use•edging• fingering•coercive sex•condom use•orgasms•yandere
🫦co-writer/smut consultant @burnthheparaphilia
💝Not for my softies: Very corrupt perverted manipulative Austin
My first corruption smut 😭 no idea what I’m doing but was told I would be good at it. This one was pushed to the front of the request due to incessant demand.
There was a HUGE glitch for the delay I could not post it with the ask ☹️ it crashed so many times so I included them here
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Mr. Butlers Babysitter
You were an excellent employee working for Mr. Butler as a babysitter of his two wonderful children. Though he preferred you call him Austin after working two months you still called him Mr. Butler to maintain the professionalism. He was a very famous actor in the early 2020’s. Now in his late thirties he was a full time producer.
He has a beautiful seven bedroom Malibu estate with every luxury perk you could think of. You enjoyed the cliffside drive seeing the ocean on your way to work there.
You would roll down the window and stick your hand out, feeling the ocean breeze hearing the seagulls as the waves crashed against the cliff walls.
You adored his two children Alisa and Daniel. Alisa was 8 years old and full of confidence. She was book smart and excelled in school never once asking for help with of her homework.
His son Daniel was 5 years old, always in imagination land. He was a very picky eater and sometimes you would have to pretend his favorite toy dinosaur would eat his food if he didn’t.
On this evening you and Austin were preparing pizza for the kids in his massive kitchen. He had his own personal brick oven designed to fit the space.
You grated mozzarella as he ladled the tomato sauce. As you sprinkled the cheese on the pizza dough your hands touched.
He smiled at you and replaced the ladle into the tomato sauce before standing behind you and placing his hands on yours showing you exactly how to spread it.
He instructs you gently speaking over your right shoulder “You know how Daniel is with his texture sensitivities if this cheese melts clumped together he won’t eat it” you giggle you totally understand. He slowly releases your hands and watches you work. He gives you a touch of approval on your shoulder before he gets back to ladling the sauce.
There was always a tension in the back of your mind with him. He was very attractive on an unnatural level.
His sandy blonde hair was always maintained in soft waves. His blue eyes had a depth and sincerity that if you stared too long you felt what it meant to get lost.
His jawline and face shape were squared and masculine and his plump lips accentuated his perfectly shaped nose. He was extremely handsome and though he was older he looked and acted so much younger.
Though you found him attractive you had set goals in mind: make money and advance your life. That kept you adamant to remain professional and you also felt so safe and highly valued working for him.
He paid you handsomely, had wonderful children and a beautiful home. You would never ruin this opportunity.
The four of you sat in the back yard that night to watch one of Mr. Butler favorite child hood movies. ‘The Good the Bad and the Ugly.’ It had become routine on Sunday to have movie night before the kids returned to their mothers for the week.
On the enormous hillside yard of his Malibu estate he had a large movie screen and a projector constructed. You all sat under a gazebo enjoying the warm breeze on a plush couch bed with a fire pit infront of it.
Beyond the movie screen you could see the twinkling lights of the city. You rested your head back enjoying the space, he had a very lovely home.
The kids grew restless after only 20 minutes of the slow paced movie but you were able to retrain their attention by asking them questions. “Is that cowboy a good one or a bad one?” you ask as Lee Van Cleefs scowling face took over the screen.
“A bad one!” Alisa yells quickly before her brother answers to prove how smart she is. Daniel’s little face saddens into a pout feeling like he lost. ”I think you’re right Alisa…” you say valuing her effort actually unsure which is the bad one.
You put your hand on Daniel’s little back and comfort him “Daniel look your turn is next! Is that cowboy a good cowboy or an ugly cowboy?” He studies Clint Eastwoods stern face “He looks like a mad cowboy ” he says with his cute voice growling and tiny teeth bared. You and Austin laugh at his adorableness.
“He does looks like a mad cowboy” Austin says assuring him. “Come here little guy sit on daddy’s lap” he motions for Daniel to come and easily picks him up “ah there we go” He says holding Daniel forward facing to watch the movie. He runs his hands through his son’s sandy blonde locks they look almost identical.
“Do you want to do nails? “ Alisa asks you excitedly out of the blue practically bouncing next to you on the couch bed. “Sure if it’s okay with your dad I know it’s getting late“ you admit checking your phone.
She looks to her dad “Plea-a-a-se can I go get my nail kit daddy!“ she pouts with her hands in a prayer. He can’t resist her. “You can get it but you have to be done in less than thirty minutes it’s almost your bed time” he say firmly.
Alisa squeals and you watch as she runs into the house.
Austin’s thumb caresses your shoulder to get your attention. “Look he’s out” he says pointing at little Daniel comfortably resting back in his arms. “Aw look at his little cute face, do you want me to take him up?” You ask gently to be helpful.
He motions his head “No you girls do nails and I’ll sit with him to watch the movie” you agree to the idea just as Alisa comes bounding out of the house with a hot pink nail box kit. She slams it on the flat stone edge of the fire pit.
Austin puts his finger to his lips with a stern face shushing her because Daniel is sleeping. “Sorry daddy” she says to him softly “ I got it “ she says out of breath holding up the kit to you.
She puts the plastic box of nail supplies on the couch bed next to you and pops it open. Pulling out a bottle of hot pink polish “Do my nails this color” she says demandingly but she’s a kid. “If you say please” you sweetly correct her “Please do my nails this color!” She asks with an impatience rising in her voice. You smile and extend your palm to her.
She places her small hand in yours as you brush the color on each of her nails. “and the stickers!” She says pulling out a roll.
You place a sticker of her choice on each nail. She looks them over excitedly “Do you like them?” You ask to make sure she’s a happy client. She jumps up and hugs you tightly around your neck.
The squeeze shocks you and you pat her shoulder tenderly to calm her “Okay honey I’m glad you like them “ you say pretending to sounds like you are being choked and it makes her giggle.
Austin realizes he was so invested in your encounter he wasn’t watching his movie and it’s already been more than thirty minutes. “Okay it’s definitely time to head up” he says carrying a sleeping Daniel as he clicks off all the electronics.
Alisa gathers her nail kit and holds your hand. You all head up stairs to put them in their rooms. Austin heads down the hall to Daniel’s and you head to Alisas.
She does everything on her own in her fully custom princess room. She brushes her teeth, washes, her face and puts on her pajamas before climbing into her canopy bed.
You click on her unicorn night light and click off the main room light ready to head out . “Can you talk to me until I fall asleep” she asks in her soft voice.
It’s a big request because you have classes in the morning and you are tired but you want to bond with her so you pull up a child size hot pink princess throne and sit next to her bed.
“What do you want to talk about hun?” You ask holding her smaller hand in yours and tracing your thumb over her freshly painted hot pink nails.
“Youre not going to leave are you?” She asks with her timid voice. You reassure her “I am going to go to my apartment and then I’ll come back and see you next weekend when your back from your moms” you smile warmly as you tuck a stray hair behind her ear.
Her face suddenly saddens “mommy wants you to make you go away” her eyes brim with tears and her lip pouts as it quivers.
“Aw honey“ you say as you pick her out of bed and place her on your lap. You pet her sandy brown hair and shush her. She begins sobbing against your chest. You pull her face back to look in her eyes. Her face is bright red with tears streaming by this point.
“Alisa honey …aw honey… sometimes people say things they don’t mean.” You wipe her tears. ”You know maybe your mommy is angry because I’m new in your life and she wants to make sure that I’m taking the very best care of you” you pinch her small chin. She still has a sad look in her eyes but she has stopped crying and is now sniffling.
“Mommy is mad because in daddy’s phone she found pictures of you.” she says through her sniffles as she finally starts calming down.
“What kind of pictures“ you ask patting her shoulders comfortingly“
“Like pictures when you bend over?” she admits not sure what it means.
Your face goes bright red not expecting her to say that “Well yes that’s ..um that’s not appropriate how did you find this out sweety ?”You ask out of pure curiosity. “I heard mommy talking to her boyfriend that daddy is a per-vert he takes lots of pictures when you bend over. What is a per-vert?” She asks with an innocent curiosity not knowing the word.
You sigh gaining more information than you ever wanted to know. “How about I tell you a bed time story?” You say to distract her and she nods smiling and snuggles in your arms. You begin to make up one about Princess Alisa and her hot pink unicorn that can fly to her castle in the clouds.
You are never one to pry into the affairs of your clients. You were a baby sitter for another celebrity couple, the Milanos, before his wife packed up and moved back to Italy with their triplets.
You received high recommendations from Mr. Milano to land the job with Mr. Butler due to your discretion and ability to always remain professional.
In the Milano mansion you witnessed several fights. Once Mr. Milano even backing out of his driveway drunk screaming at Mrs. Milano before he crashed into their courtyard fountain.
You took their sobbing triplets inside to avoid them having to watch their parents have another explosive outburst. You brought them to the their enormous playroom and turned on some kids follow along music until they were wiggling and dancing instead of crying.
A word about their issues never left your lips even when the paparazzi berated you with emails and bribes to be a source of information for the infamous impending Milano divorce splashed across every gossip site.
Even as you saw the exorbitant amounts being offered you knew your reputation would be diminished in the elite celebrity circle as a nanny and you’d be scrambling back to a form of lesser employment.
But as you cradled Alisa in your arms you realized this was a completely different scenario on top of the average celebrity family dramatics.
Your first divorced client may actually have a sexual interest in you.
As you finish your story you hold her close comforting her in silence. After a while her body begains to go slack. “I’m going to put you in bed now okay hun?” You say gently and she nods.
You place her in bed and pull her unicorn covers up to her chest. “Promise me you’ll come back”she asks in her sweet sleepy voice trying to keep her eyes open. You reassure her ”yes Alisa I’m coming back” you pet her hand. “Even if my daddy is a per-vert like mommy says?” she asks as your brows furrow at the complication.
“Alisa” Austin’s voice snaps from the doorway. You wonder how long he’s been there as you slightly panic. “You should’ve been asleep a long time ago now it’s very late and you have school in the morning next time I’m not going to let you stay up like this” he says sternly “I’m sorry daddy” Alisa says sleepily.
You interject “Mr. Butler… Austin, sorry it’s my fault the nails, the girl talk bed time story I guess we just got carried away.” You say smiling weakly looking at him with newfound eyes realizing he might have a little naughty photo collection of you in his phone.
He smiles to you “No you're fine I think she just gets really excited having you around I’m going to make sure she goes down. Just wait for me a minute downstairs.” He says as you cross paths. He sits on Alisa’s bedside as you leave the room.
You walk down the hall but slowly enough to listen in and pry. Their voices are muffled but you distinctly hear him in his softest sweetest voice ask her ”Now what were you silly girls talking about in here”
She loves her daddy you know she’s going to rat. You quickly make your way down the stairs through the living room and exit the front of the house.
You enter your car and hold the steering wheel wondering if he’s going to fire you now because his daughters spilled his little secret. “UGHhh!” You exclaim because he pays you four grand just to work weekends every month with the sweetest kids on the planet.
You’ve signed an NDA but that’s still an awkward topic to ignore especially being in close proximity with him, likely complications will arise. You’ll work for him one more weekend and ask him for a recommendation to another high status family.
You look up through the windshield to see Mr. Butler jogging out of his modern glass front estate down to your car. You roll down your window confused. “I thought you left” he says out of breath. “I told you to wait for me downstairs” he says as he reaches into his pocket. “For the overtime” he says handing you a small stack money. Your eyes light up as you accept it.
Counting through a thousand dollars you raise your brow as you look up at him. “Mr. Butler… there’s no way all of this is just for overtime.” He slicks his hand back through his hair looking around to other houses in the distance before he looks back to you with a grin “How about you come in tomorrow on your day off and you make it up to me” he says slyly.
You fold the stack in your hand and bring it to your purse. “Okay if that will make us even” you say matter of factly. He flashes you a charming smile “It’s a date then” he says stepping back from your car “And tomorrow call me Austin” he says as you pull out of the driveway of his estate.
You can’t quite put your finger on it but the whole interaction felt a little off. But maybe he was just nervous about what Alisa may have said to him.
If he needs your help with his sweet kids tomorrow you’re all for it. You turn up the music to play on your way home.
Make It Up to Me
The next day during your morning college course you receive a text from Austin. “Come by at 6:30pm house unlocked” you knit your brow in confusion. Usually you arrive at 10am to help with the kids then it dawns on you it’s a weekday his kids are in school and probably have extracurriculars after so you type in “okay”
After classes you go to the gym and work out for an hour of cardio. You like to stay fit as a baby sitter if a kid can out run you, your toast.
You take your usual Monday cycling class and leave covered in sweat. You shower and open your locker to realize because of the work schedule change you didn’t pack street clothing. You left your apartment wearing your work out gear. Now instead of heading home you’re driving to Malibu.
“Shit” you say finding only a clean pair of black yoga shorts and a sports bra in your locker. “great job “ you murmur to yourself “Wear the skimpiest out fit to your employers house after you find out he probably takes photos of your ass” you roll your eyes at your luck.
Your strait laced thoughts suddenly start to slip as you try to think of when he would take the inappropriate pictures.
There was a time he had you climb a ladder in his storage room to carry down hoolah hoops for the kids. Then proceeded to have you all compete in the living room to see who was the fastest.
You were of course and he readily filmed it as you laughed trying to keep the rhythm of your hips going. His kids had already dropped theirs to the floor and were fumbling and giggling so you stopped to help them.
There was another instance when he installed a boot camp playground for his son before his birthday. He wanted you to test it out with the kids. You guys balanced on beams climbed ropes and had to shimmy on your belly’s under ropes through a sand pit. The low angle he filmed as you crawled didn’t make sense then.
Once somehow Daniel’s nerf football was thrown up into his tree house and the ladder had not been repaired. The kids would be dropped off in an hour and Mr. Butler was adamant you retrieve Daniels nerf football.
He followed you to the yard down the hill to the garden infront of the large tree with the custom house built into its branches. He hoisted you up by cupping and pushing your ass to get you higher. You laughed at the embarrassing way you needed to be helped. You finally wiggled into the tree house, throwing the nerf foot ball down.
You sat on the ledge and Austin gestured you to jump down to him ”please catch me, I don’t have independent health coverage” you joked. “If I break your bones I’ll mend them come to me” he gestured.
You jumped off landing into his arms both falling back onto the grass. His pupils were huge as you stared down at him panting and smiling. You quickly stood up and offered him your hand.
You realize you will definitely have to keep your distance he’s already been trying you.
But you really need this job. It’s saving your life right now he is your highest paying client by far. Your bills are paid your gym membership is renewed and you actually have a savings account.
You begin to wonder if your next employer will treat you as well and pay as much. It’s highly doubtful
You know the kids will be there today and you can leave early with a made up excuse before they fall asleep. Even on weekends you can just plan to leave early every time and should be completely safe.
You search through your locker again trying to find anything to cover you from wearing just sports bra and shorts to his house. You find a zip up black long sleeve jacket to match.
But it’s all form fitting accentuating your ass by covering your top and leaving your legs exposed. You shake your head in annoyance, it will have to do. You don’t have time to head back to because you thrive on being punctual. You tie up your hair in a pony tail and leave the gym.
You drive the route to Mr. Butlers estate with the windows rolled down listing to music. You pull up to his place at around 6:30. You walk in to the grandios living room to find the estate empty. No Austin, no kids, no maid, not anyone.
You reach in your purse and take out your phone texting Mr. Butler. “Where is everyone?” It takes a moment but you see the little dots moving showing he’s typing back. “movie room”. You’ve never been down there before. To make sure it’s not a danger zone you text him back “kids with you?” You await his response there isn’t one.
After a moment he finds you in the living room and smiles as he sees you “It felt kind of weird texting you and were in the same house…” his voice trails off seeing what your wearing
You tug down your sleeve and clutch you purse closer to your body “Sorry it’s unprofessional of me I know but I’ve never been here during a weekday and I forgot to pack the extra clothing.“
He makes a hmm sound looking you over in amusement “You must work out a lot to have legs like that” he compliments and your face flushes. “Don’t be shy about it” he says grinning as he walks by you to the kitchen.
He’s wearing sweats and a black tee but youve always eyed he’s in very good shape himself. He pulls a bottle of wine tucking it under his arm and pulls two Reidel glasses out. “Come watch a movie with me” he says innocently. “Mr. Butler..I mean Austin, with all do respect I can’t.” He eyes you mischievously. “You believe everything an eight year old tells you?” Your face flushes Alisa totally ratted to her daddy.
He has a knowing smile that you return because how did Mr. Butlers ex-wife even have access to his phone?
Maybe Alisa’s mom had it wrong, sometimes moms exaggerate to their kids to villainize daddy. Austin seems very kind.
He motions you to join him and this time you follow him down the stairs to the movie room. He pushes open the doors with his back and it opens to a theater space with five rows of black custom movie couches, it’s a small amphitheater.
“Holy fuck” you say before covering you mouth cursing infront of a client. Your previous clients the Milanos movie theater fails in comparison to this.
Along the back wall he has framed posters of every movie he’s starred in. You begin walking along and inspecting each one.
He approaches you from behind and hands you a glass of wine. “Oh thank you … but I’m not allowed to drink, well I’m legally not allowed to drink until next year .” you smile shyly as your face flushes. The way he stares at you in disbelief makes you feel awkward “You’ve never even had a drink?” He asks lowering his tone.
You tuck your hair behind your ear feeling the heat rising to your face as you try to explain.
“Well I was always honor roll and very goal oriented, not much time for friends. Then I got accepted to a great college on a scholarship. My room and board is paid by it so I really only have time to do my course work, workout ,and come to your house Mr. Butler. From what I can see, drinking kind of makes people wild and crazy and dumb anyway it never really interested me.”
He smiles “Well maybe they are drinking hard liquor this is wine, it’s not instant like a shot, it takes a while to build in your system“
You pry more “if hard liquor makes you crazy, what does wine feel like?” You ask intrigued.
“Mmm like a really mellow mood, no more stress no more anxiety you can just be yourself.” He smiles.
You mull it over staring into the red liquid, thinking about how anxious you are waiting for his kids to get here already. Maybe just a glass. You lift it to sip and he gestures you not to.
“This is a nice bottle when you drink you have to cheers to something.” He proclaims.
“Oh..” you say not familiar with drinking customs. Your mind draws a blank. His eyes squint for a minute until he catches a thought “To a great working relationship” he says and it makes you smile and cheers him clinking glasses then taking a drink. He rests his glass down “You really are phenomenal the kids adore you by the way”. He admits.
You both look over at his Elvis movie poster you have been standing in front of. “You ever seen this?” He asks because of your age. “No I haven’t are you good in it?” He nearly snorts his wine as he takes a sip. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I almost won an Oscar” He exclaims profoundly. ”That’s what we’re gonna watch then” he says leaving you to set everything up in the theater.
He sits center mid row and you sit next to him on the black custom theater couch putting your purse on the table rest of your seat.
You wait as he finds the film in his catalogue with his universal remote then dims the lights. The theater is completely dark and silent.
He refills your wine glass as the credits start. It’s a very haunting Elvis melody. Followed by a montage of him dressed as Elvis. Finally you see him “Wow you look so different with black hair, you say but the theater has surround sound speakers.
He can’t quite hear you so he turns the volume down. You begin divulging too much feeling a bit dizzy ”Oh Mr. Butler no I don’t want to ruin the movie you don’t have to turn it down I was just saying you look so different with black hair it really brings out your eyes. You have very pretty blue eyes” you say staring at him a little too long in the dim lighting.
You wonder why you are suddenly turned on and shake the thought from your head. He listens to your tipsy rambling and smirks refilling your glass. “I’ve seen this movie over a dozen times I’d rather hear you talk honestly” he admits glancing over at you affectionately.
The movie continues to play at a lower volume the bright flashing colors and lights are a dizzying spectacle to your eyes.
Him wearing green, him wearing pink, him jiggling his dick on the screen. “Wait what?” You exclaim. As you sit up he laughs. “I swear I just saw! Oh!! You did it again” you rest back in your chair wondering why you are becoming wet.
The movie continues and you are fully invested in every word he says. His southern drawl is resonating in your ears.
He pours you a glass one more time as the Trouble scene comes on smiling to himself. When the scene shows him on stage you are already labored breathing because he looks so good in eyeliner. As he begins to sing and then dance on the sceeen you audibly gasp.
Why is it so sexual isn’t this the 50s? You watch as he kneels and rises from the floor as women in the audience on screen reach for his cock“ holy fuck “ you say out loud as you pant heavily.
You wonder if he can really do that… inside of you. You squirm in your seat too heavily aroused “Fuck Mr. Butler.. I mean Austin” you say a little slurred and he pauses the movie on the scene when he’s in the cop car.
“Mr.B- -Austin I didn’t eat and I worked out and I had the wine and now I feel really weird…oh god!” you exclaim standing up from the couch “The kids what time is it!”
He stands with you and watches as you try to steady your balance. “The kids aren’t coming” he admits. “What?!” You exclaim louder than you intended trying to focus your eyes feeling like they are vibrating.
“The kids aren’t coming because it’s a week day” he says looking at you as if you got the plans wrong.
You go over in your mind how he handed you the money and you try to remember his exact words ‘Come on your day off and make it up to me’ you realize he wants you to make it up sexually. You take a step back “Oh god Mr. Butler” —-“ Austin” he interjects
You take another step back “Mr. Austin I can’t - - ” he cuts you off again “just -Austin” he says.
Your back hits the wall behind you in a pathetic attempt to avoid his alluring aura. He places his hands to the wall on either side of your head cornering you and standing so closely you can smell his cologne.
“I tried luring you in so many ways but you were just so professional you never relaxed your guard around me. But I finally figured out how to loosen you up.” He says with a smile.
He stares into your eyes with a burning intensity wanting to watch your reaction as he admits it
“A pinch of ecstasy in a full glass of wine.” He smirks
“What!” You exclaim in shock that he’s already drugged you. He smiles “A good girl like you wouldn’t even know what was happening to her.” He confesses with an alluring smile.
He lowers his head next to your ear “Why do you think you’re having so much fun?” he whispers to you as a strange sensation falls over your body.
He smiles against your ear and hovers his mouth over your neck fanning your sensitive skin as he speaks "You didn't leave me another way to have you.....it’s a shame I had to make it this way." He says as he licks his tongue in a trail along your neck.
You go weak and cover with chills as he starts to kiss and suck your neck making your body begin to tingle all over especially between your legs. It suddenly makes sense why the movie colors were so vivid and you felt shocks to your core that made you wet every second he was on screen.
You have fallen in to his trap.
Your breathing increases and you weakly put your hands on his firm chest trying to stop him but it's in vain. You can't fight the effect he has over you. The wine and the ecstasy make you completely surrender his touch, you want more of him as he wants more of you.
He reaches his hand between your legs and presses his fingers against your pussy. It radiates pulses of pleasure throughout your entire body. A small moan escapes your lips. “Your fucking soaked “ he says looking at his wet fingertips.
You grab his hand placing it back to your aching pussy wanting him to touch you more you are craving it but he smirks.
He brings his hand up to your throat placing it gently there instead gazing directly into your eyes knowing he has complete control to pervert you to his wishes.
“I never took a good girl Ike you to be such a slut” he teases and you whimper. “Go on beg your boss to touch you like a slut“ he commands. You slowly muster up the words “please… touch me”
You feel his hard cock press across your thighs instead making your core clench
“Is that what you want?" He asks leaning in to suck onto your neck again. “Yes! Please Mr.Butler touch me” your desperate tone makes his cock harder.
"What did I tell you about my name?" He asks rubbing his hand against your pussy. His touch sends shocks of pleasure radiating through your body distracting you from saying his name. "A-Austin!!" you finally cry out.
"You’re so cock drunk you can't even form words" he says smiling in amusement as he kisses his way up your neck to your lips. He takes you into an erotic kiss gaining instant access to your wanting mouth. He glides his tongue in and twirls it against yours while devouring your lips. He pulls you from the wall back into the aisle and pushes you down on the couch breaking his kiss and making you lay flat.
He holds your legs up pulling the band of your shorts to peel them off of you with your panties, leaving you half naked.
He climbs on top of you settling between your legs. His eyes are full of lust as you see them roam your body. He slowly unzips your jacket exposing your body in your sports bra. "Fuck you look incredible" he says trailing his hand down your stomach.
His left hand hooks his thumb into your sports bra pulling it up enough to let your tits out of their confinement. He gets his phone out of his pocket and takes a photo with flash.
You turn away as it hurts your sensitive eyes. Any dignity you had left was shattered as soon as he took the compromising photo. “Please delete it Austin!” you beg him with your entire career on the line if he shows anyone."Delete it?” He smirks “No, I’m gonna use it blackmail you into doing whatever I desire, and if you deny me it’ll be posted anonymously so everyone will know what a slut you really are” he confesses. “Austin please I’ll do what ever you say please don’t post the photo” you beg him almost in tears the photo would ruin you.
He smiles and squeezes one of your full tits then the other. He tugs at your nipples making you gasp “Our little secret then” He says enamored, he finally has you at his mercy.
Suddenly you feel him slowly sink two of his fingers in your tight cunt. He starts to pump them in pulling against a hard ridge inside that makes your hips buck up ."Austin!" you moan out as he sends shock of pleasure all over your body.
Your core gets tighter as he continues to finger you massaging your tight walls. You are heavily panting feeling the release of so many endorphins firing at once from the ecstasy.
Austin notices the way your legs tremble as your walls flutter against his fingers you’re going to cum. He increases his pace enjoying his wet knuckles smacking against your folds as you moan.
"Austin please don't stop!" you plead as you start to climax. He places his other hand across your pelvis pressing down and using his thumb to circle your clit.
You are high pitched moaning with your core so tight it feels like it will snap “cum for me “he commands and you clutch his wrist feeling how he shoves his finger inside of you as your orgasm.
You deeply moan as sparks explode in your core and radiate through your body. He continues to finger you into aftershock until your back arch’s from the couch as you cry out for him . Then he slows to a stop.“ I know I know” he says cooing at you as he caresses your jaw. It was an intense orgasm you are panting and shivering trying to regain your breath. You rest your head back on the couch in a daze.
The ecstasy in your system has increased your arousal to its peak you have lost all control over your body.
You watch Austin pull a condom from his pocket and tear it open. He reaches in the band of his sweats and releases his thick cock. "oh god..." you say in a shock because he is so well endowed
"Such a slut for letting your new boss fuck you like this" He says as he smiles at you. He presses the condom to the head of his cock and carefully rolls it down his shaft. He sees you eyeing his every movement. "Just a condom on the first time. In the application you sent in it said you are not on birth control, but we’re gonna fix that" he confesses.
Your eyes widen in shock as you whimper. You gave up so much information on your hiring form most that didn’t even pertain to the job. He knows: What college you go to, where your parents live, all of your social media handles, even your time of the month, among so many other things. He has it all thought out and trapped you officially.
“When Mr. Milano referred you to me, I was shocked he’d ever give you up , but with his divorce… no more kids no more babysitter.” He smiles “You were the hottest thing I’d ever seen. The picture he sent of you innocently smiling in your tennis outfit at his house.I pleasured myself to your photo right there at my bathroom sink.” He gazes lustfully between your legs “and now I finally get to try your sweet pussy”
You let out a moan as he settles between your legs and parts your thighs wider. He rests his chest to yours and aims his cock for your entrance. As he penetrates you grip his shoulders and cry out from the piercing of his size.
"MMm my good girl taking my cock so well..-fuck-..your so tight" he says as you gasp for air feeling the stretch. He slowly makes you take every inch of him until it’s too painful "it’s too much A-austin! Too m-much!!" you plead as your eyes well with tears and your nails dig into his shoulders.
You don't think you can handle it as you start to feel how big his cock is. "Be a good girl and take it all for me" he says as he trusts himself deep sinking in all the way to your core. Your back arcs but no sound escapes your throat from the pain as the ecstasy amplifies it.
He works into you your stunned body at a gentle pace “Don’t worry pretty girl…the pain will subside … and you will like it "he reassures you and plants kisses on your neck to distract you as he thrusts into you stretching your tight walls. After a moment his words are true the pain transforms into pleasure and he hears your sweet moans in his ears.
He puts his left hand on your hip increasing his thrusts pushing his deepest to hit your cervix. He turns your head exposing the other side of your neck to kiss and suck your most vulnerable spot creating a bruise.
He pins your hands above your head and tilts his hips thrusting at a deeper angle and increasing your moans. His hips begin smacking into yours as you cry out on each one of his thrusts.“ Austin I’m so closel” you admit in passion.“Gonna make you cum with me��� he breaths. He increases his speed until he’s wracking your body with his plows. “I’m gonna cum!” You yell making his cock twitch. He groans as he pumps you full of his seed. He grips your shoulders for leverage and pushes even deeper. You both moan in unison as you orgasm.
He finishes panting heavily above you staring into your eyes. He is thoroughly satisfied and already wants to feel every ridge of your walls without a condom.
You look back up at him as you regain your breath, it was the best sex you ever had. “I’m gonna pull out now” he says and you nod as he slides his shaft back until his cock head slips out. You both moan from the loss of contact. He slowly stands from the couch and pulls the condom off of his cock until it snaps. He fixes his sweats and discards the condom in a lined bin.
You quickly find your panties and your shorts and pull them back on then you stand and zip up your sports jacket. Austin raises the lights to brighten the room as he turns all the other settings in the movie theater off with his universal remote. “Earlier when you mentioned you didn’t eat I wanted to feed you. Can I feed you now” He asks over his shoulder.
You collect your purse. “No I think I’ll just go home.” You say nervously. He turns to look at you then.
“I want you to stay” he offers but you shy away “Austin I have classes in the morning I really wasn’t planning for …all of this”
He approaches you slowly tucking his finger under your chin. He sees in your eyes you are too drunk to even leave his estate.
He smirks knowing you’ll have to stay the night and he’s going to enjoy you again and again. He also has something he can give you that will always get his way with you.
“How much do I owe you for baby sitting me then” he asks slyly looking away to retrieve his phone. He opens the app to transfer money directly to your account. He leaves the number space blank as he hands it to you.
You look up at him knowing it was the best sex of your life but the way he corrupted the situation and controls you with it. You decide to go all in, typing in the number you want and handing it back to him. Double your monthly salary.
His eyes light up in amusement and he immediately hits send. You are well worth it. He wants you more and he quickly thinks of a way to get you to stay during the week.
Your phone alerts the transfer is complete and your stomach jumps in excitement looking at the amount in your banking app. He smiles seeing how happy you are.
As your eyes meet he gazes at you lustfully “For that amount you’ll have babysit me for the rest of the week then.” He admits.
End
To be continued due to high demand ♥️☺️🥀
Available now ♥️
505 notes · View notes
jjks1ut · 2 months
Text
Need Help?
pairing: nanami x reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary:with the upcoming test you have for biology your boyfriend has quite the sly way to help you study.
cw:explicit content, edging, cockwarming, pet names, sexual tension, fingering, spanking, overstimulation, praise, teasing
a/n:here I am with some more jjk content since I've been lacking in my posting for the past few months with school and all, hope this is a read you can all enjoy as always ;)
Tumblr media
You still can’t believe how you ended up here, but there you were nestled on Nanami’s lap at his place with his cock right there at the walls of your clenching wet pussy. There you sat with all your clothes strewn into some pile on the floor while he sat there practically half clothed giving you that ever so smug look while you mercilessly begged for his pleasure barely able to move with the tight grip he held at your waist. 
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
You had just left your last class for the evening on a regular Friday night, it was the perfect time to be hanging out with friends and probably even get wasted at a club or two. But, with your most recent grade in biology dropping down to a 50% you grew a little concerned with the possibility of failing the next assessment that would be just the following Monday.
‘I advise you get yourself situated with a tutor.’,was your biology teacher's last words to you as she handed out the papers on your way to leave the lecture hall.
“What an asshole”, you thought to yourself as you made your way from the train station as you texted your boyfriend furiously about your frustration with the professor’s attitude.
 ‘Omg Kento I can’t believe my professor and her damn attitude, I know I need a tutor with my grade and all but she doesn’t have to be in my ass about it :(‘.  You texted him and like always you could already see he had read the message and was ready to respond in a matter of seconds.
‘Your grade? Are you failing a class?’, he had texted you, and you could already feel the overbearing concern from his side.
It had been known from the start of your relationship but your boyfriend Kento Nanami was a nerd, almost like the ones in movies. Constantly studying, always in the library, and you could never catch this man with a late assignment. Even if he was practically on his deathbed he would make sure he turned in that one history essay. 
And funny enough the way you two first met had been through him as your tutor in the first place when through enough sessions together you found yourselves in a heated make our session somewhere buried in the back shelves of the college’s library.
‘It’s nothing, it's just a simple 50%. The semester only started so by my next exam I should be able to fix it’, you texted back trying to make excuses for your poor scores, but you knew Kento wasn’t there for that bull where you would constantly procrastinate. 
As a new message flew into your inbox.
‘Cancel any plans you have, you're coming over to my place later to study’, he had texted back. 
‘Take a nap or whatever you need to do, I want you over before 7’, Nanami added as well. It was a strange request that even made you a little frustrated at how he was trying to order you around. 
Even so, you always enjoyed a good time at your boyfriend’s place. And, who knows, probably you’ll get something out of it by the end of the night ;).
So there you were just having woken up from a nap an hour prior as you began to get yourself ready. Luckily, you didn’t mind coming over either as you two lived just a block or two away as in just a matter of minutes you were already in front of his door ringing his bell.
“Hey”, he gave you a soft smile before wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in for a soft kiss on the cheek. 
He may have been strict when it came to work and how he felt about grades but he wasn’t an asshole. He cared about you to the fullest extent he could at the end of the day
So As Kento was helping you with your jacket, put it in some closet nearby you could see he was clearly serious about studying. There across his coffee table in his living room was filled with worksheets, and even some books on the subject of biology. “Oh you meant actual studying?”, you whispered under your breath not even realizing he heard you. 
“What did you think we were doing?”. He questioned taking a quick look over his shoulder as he was bringing you two drinks back over to the coffee table as he made himself comfortable next to you.
“No nothing Nanami”, you laughed softly which coaxed a small smile as well from his previously stern expression. “Well, have some liquids in your system I know we’re gonna be doing a lot of talking”, he jokes back as he hands you your drink. 
“Oh shut up”, you teased back but taking the beverage even so.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
“Nanamiii, can we go on break.”, you whined to him as you dropped your pencil on the coffee table sitting back to give Nanami your best puppy dog eyes. You were sitting beside him on the couch only an hour and a few minutes into the study sesh yet already on your 10th break. But come on it wasn’t your fault when your hot ass boyfriend was right beside you watching you keenly as you worked. Like how the fuck were you supposed to focus when all that fogged your mind was thoughts of him.
From the way his well manicured yet veiny hands ran over your workbook reading over your work. The way he would constantly reassure you as his fingers ran long and languid movements along your spine bringing an ache to your core.
All these actions left you with nothing but scenarios of him fucking you from behind right there on that couch, kissing down your neck as his hands ran along your thighs, anything would make you calmer if it wasn’t for how handsome Nanami was even minding his own business.
“Are you listening?”, he called out as his palm was over your thigh, pinching it softly to catch your attention. You could see on his face he was slightly worried but a bit of annoyance lied in his face as well.  “It’s only been an hour since we started and at least 80% was spent on these breaks”, he frowned.
It killed you to see Nanami this way  when the last thing you wanted to do was piss him off. “I'm sorry it’s just I can’t focus alright? From the worksheets to the flashcards, do you have any other methods?” You spoke up as you watched a small grin form on his face and even a suspicious bulge peeking from the zipper at his pants.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
So there it finally was as Nanami’s cock was buried deep within the brim of your walls. “So remind me what the calvin cycle is, hm?”Nanami whispered low as his finger took a casual flick at your aching clit that was begging for his touch as he continued to edge you even so.
“N- Namai?, please you know I-,” you whimper. This had been going on for a third of an hour or so. Nanami would ask you a question from your study sheet he had set up for you  and you would answer. simple, right?
And without you even being able to finish your sentence another firm slap landed on your bare ass as he had slipped off your pants from earlier. 
“Wrong”, he spoke cockily. You knew your boyfriend was more experienced then he put on, as even during your first time together you never expected all that he had done that night. But what was happening here was nothing compared to the original Nanami you saw in this bedroom. Usually he was such a caring lover as he catered to all your possible needs during your passionate nights. 
Now a contrast was brought as Nanami was showing pure dominance not taking any of your whiny pleads as he brought another snap that you had mewling his name like a bitch in heat.
“Don’t act like you don’t like this, either way you better prepare yourself because until you can remember this entire sheet we’re gonna keep at this” he continued on forcing you to look right at him as if tears weren’t rolling right off your pretty little eyes. With his words you nodded as he gladly wiped your tears with a small comforting smile, “Good girl”.
“So tell me what's binary fission?”, he now asked as you tried your best even in your fuzzy thoughts brimmed with the feeling of Nanami’s member throbbing from inside you. “Um, does it have to do with things with a single cell”, you huffed out as you could already feel the way your legs shaked and quivered as you tried to hold yourself up with the firm grip he held at your waist, and you could already feel your eyelids grow heavy just the same.
Yet Nanami notices quickly moves his hands to your hips and pushes you up, so that you're around halfway down on his cock. you let out a small shudder, and you can tell your almost there just is not correct yet. “And, what else”, he spoke as he pulled your face in close with a firm grip on your scalp.
“Reproducing”, you answer immediately and almost just as fast you're rewarded. Nanami allows you to ride him again. you move up and down a little quickly, scared that your boyfriend will rob you of the feeling before it's even begun. And the entire time you watch as he eyes your eager appearance as he pulls you in from that pull he had on the back of your head for a sloppy and heeded kiss.
“Nanami~, I want more-”, you whimpered as you grinded up against him eagerly but the moment was quickly stopped as he grabbed at your hips again and brought a slap down on your ass once more. “Fuck-, just answer the next question and we can finish for tonight”, he groaned close to letting you keep up with your grind on his cock. 
Nanami knew this was supposed to be a sort of punishment for your lack of focus but your pretty face ever so ruined by the smear of your runny makeup, your perfect bare body out in the open for him to use as he pleased, at this point fuck the work he wanted you right over this coffee table fuckong your brains out. 
“Tell me what a cell is.”, he asked, simply giving you a confused look. “But, Nanami, that's not on the-”. Quietly your words are shut down with another smack as you whimper at the slam against your rear.
“Just answer the fuckin question”, he practically begged you, so once you dumbly stutter, genuinely unsure of the answer Nanami can’t even care if its right.
From there you’re bent over the coffee table as your eyes are drooping, body aching and face hot as you stutter out your dumbfounded words of pleasure.
:)
“We should study like this more often”, he chuckles as you curled up against his chest as you were watching some stupid movie on the tv in front of you two. 
“I bet you remember way more now.” 
Tumblr media
550 notes · View notes
batgirlkirb · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
dick likes when you announce that you’re gonna cum for him.
he likes the power rush of knowing he’s the one driving you to the edge, the one making you gasp to the point where you can feel the thoughts leaving your mind, feel the shivers getting ready to take through your body, and feel the need to tell him - to pray to him to make it happen.
“just let it happen, angel. you can let it go, just gotta tell me. just have to let me know when, alright, baby?” he coos - and, god, can dick coo, his soft noises of approval mixing with the moaning and squelching that escapes you.
his fire-filled blue eyes never stop focusing on how your hips twist and jerk against the same hands that save people across blüdhaven and gotham every day. that must be what makes them so rough, dexterous and powerful - a fact that melts you and one he’s more than willing to tease.
“you like that? like my fingers on your spot just like that?” he asks with a smirk on his lips as they let out hot air against your ear, black hair matted with sweat as he leans over you, his fingers never stopping. he crooks them methodically, finding the little divot inside your pussy and pushing into it for what must be the thousandth time.
“did you hear me, princess?” he asks with a tiny laugh at how he needs to reiterate himself, seeing that your ability to respond is dripping out of you just like the mess of slick between your lower lips is practically leaking down to his palm.
“i said all you need to do is tell me and i’ll let you cum.” the humor stays in his tone as you inhale sharply at another graze against your g-spot. when you exhale out the tension it comes with a throaty confession that yes, you’re close, you’re close.
your hand alternates between helping the process by gliding along your clit and trying to slow dick’s unceasing pace by grabbing weakly onto his wrist - attempts which fail again and again because nightwing can always withstand anything you throw at him and even at your strongest, his loving could shatter you.
a third of his fingers slips into the fluttering heat that is by now sloppily wet, giving you all but seconds to register the obscene stretch with a pleasured sob.
“fuck, dick - i’m cumming, i’m cumming, i’m cumming! dICK -!” comes out of you like a mantra, your eyes shining, your hair splayed - you’re the goddess he’s trapped on his bed, under his perfect build and his tortuously wanton touch.
and he laughs as the shivers roll through you, the clear spritz that erupts from below your clit sprinkling all over your thighs and his toned forearm.
“that’s it.” he practically purrs with an absolute lascivious sparkle in his eyes. “that’s my girl. look ‘t you.~ creaming all the way down my arm? you really wanted that, huh?”
and of course, he needs the confirmation from your panting, kiss swollen lips as he runs his thumb across them. he craves it again - the sound of you deferring you pleasure to him after all his masterful work.
“right? tell me you wanted it, pretty thing.”
“i w’nted it, dick.” you slur out, fingers trying to grip his black hair for purchase in the aftershocks of the pleasure his fingers had unlocked within you.
“and you want more, right, babe? tell me if y’ want more.” his voice and smile become gentler but his thumb stays circling on the sticky, drenched bud that is your clit, implying far from gentle pleasures to come.
you hum out a moan with a crooked smile and lidded eyes that see him, only him.
“yes, i want more of you, dick” is all he needs to let two of his fingers slide back over your warm slit with a wink. good. giving you more just means he gets to hear you get close again and again and again…
“that’s it.” he reassures in that way that only he can. “i’ll give my lovely lady so much more - you just keep talking for me…”
-
not proofread. comment and rb! written to: somebody by keshi
450 notes · View notes
cosmicanakin · 1 month
Text
Mile High Club
adult content | minors do NOT interact.
Tumblr media
Pairing. Dean Winchester x Female Reader.
Outline. You and Dean slip away from Sam and Bobby for a moment to indulge Dean's neediness in the backseat of the Impala.
Warning(s). Smut (P in V – wrap it up folks), Praising, Explicit Language, Semi Public Sex, Pet Names, & Sam teasing both Dean & Reader.
Word Count. 984
Authors Note. I know that I've been slacking with writing nowadays, I'm so sorry. I was—am focusing on myself to better my mental health. But to make up for it, I give you this. So I hope you're taking good care of yourselves & I love you so much. Enjoyyyy!
Tumblr media
You couldn’t believe this was happening. Here you were, bouncing feverishly on Dean Winchester’s cock in the backseat of the Impala, his hands gripping your hips as he moaned in pure ecstasy.
The case you were supposed to be working on with Sam and Bobby was the furthest thing from your mind right now. All that mattered was the delicious friction building between your bodies, the way Dean’s thick, throbbing length filled you up so perfectly.
“That’s it, baby,” Dean growled, voice gravelly with lust. “Ride my dick just like that. You’re such a good girl, taking me so well.”
You whimpered, your nails digging into the firm muscles of his shoulders as you picked up the pace, your hips rolling and grinding against him in a desperate rhythm. The sounds of your bodies joining together echoed through the confines of the car, only spurring Dean on further.
“Fuck, you feel so goddamn good,” he groaned, his fingers tightening their grip on your hips. “My gorgeous little slut, riding me so fucking good.”
The praise sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine, and you felt the familiar coil of tension building deep within you. You were so close, teetering on the edge of ecstasy, and Dean could tell.
“Go ahead, darlin’, come for me,” he demanded, his thumb brushing against your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Show me how much you love my cock.”
With a sharp cry, you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations, your body trembling as wave after wave of mind-blowing pleasure washed over you. Dean followed closely behind, his hips snapping up into you as he spilled himself deep inside.
For a moment, the only sounds were the heavy panting of your breaths and the occasional contented hum from Dean. Then, finally, he pulled you down for a searing kiss, his hands caressing your flushed skin.
“Damn, Y/N, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck. “I could do this all day.”
You chuckled breathlessly, your fingers tracing the strong lines of his jaw. “As much as I’d love to, we should probably get back to helping Sam and Bobby,”you said, reluctantly lifting yourself off of him.
Dean groaned in protest, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs again. “Do we have to?” he whined, his eyes pleading. “I’m not done with you yet.”
You laughed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Yes, we have to,” you said firmly, already starting to redress. “The sooner we get this case wrapped up, the sooner we can come back here and pick up where we left off.”
Dean pouted, but he knew better than to argue. With a resigned sigh, he began to clean himself up, already mentally planning all the ways he was going to ravish you once this job was done.
Bonus Part.
By the time you and Dean finally emerged from the Impala, faces flushed and clothes slightly disheveled, Sam was waiting for you with a knowing smirk on his face.
“Well, well, look who decided to join us,” he quipped, his eyes flickering between you and his brother. “And just where have you two been, hmm?”
You felt your cheeks burning with embarrassment, your mind racing to come up with a plausible excuse. But one glance at Dean’s guilty expression told you that Sam already knew exactly what you two had been up to.
“We, uh, we were just—” Dean began, only to be cut off by the gruff voice of Bobby, who came storming out of the motel room.
“Where the hell have you two idjits been?” he growled, his brow furrowed in frustration. “We’ve been waitin’ on you for over an hour! Sam and I could’ve used your help, you know.”
You cringed, fully prepared for the tongue-lashing you and Dean were about to receive. But to your surprise, Sam stepped in, his expression far too innocent to be believable.
“Oh, I’m sure they were, uh, otherwise occupied,” he said, his lips twitching with amusement. “Isn’t that right, you two?”
Dean shot his brother a withering glare, but Sam only grinned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. You wanted nothing more than to disappear into the ground, your mortification notable.
“What the hell are you talkin’ about, boy?” Bobby demanded, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Sam chuckled, jerking his thumb in your direction. “Well, let’s just say our dear friend Y/N here has been, uh, keeping Dean “company” while the rest of us were working."
Your mouth fell open in shock, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from Dean's body as he shifted uncomfortably beside you. Bobby’s eyes widened with realization, and a gruff, disapproving grunt escaped his lips.
“Oh, for the love of—” he muttered, shaking his head in exasperation. “You two idjits couldn’t keep it in your pants for five minutes, could you?”
You felt the embarrassment coursing through you, and you resisted the overwhelming urge to bury your face in your hands. But Dean, ever the quick-witted one, managed to find his voice.
“Hey, come on, it’s not our fault you two were taking forever!” he protested, his tone defensive. “We were just, you know, passing the time.”
Sam burst out laughing, slapping his knees in amusement. “Oh, I’ll bet you were,” he chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Just try to keep it in your pants from now on, huh? We’ve got work to do.”
With that, he turned and headed back towards the motel room, leaving you and Dean to face the wrath of a thoroughly exasperated Bobby. As the older hunter launched into a lecture about professionalism and work ethic, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the most embarrassed you’d ever been in your life.
But as you glanced over at Dean, the sheepish grin on his face told you that he wouldn't have had it any other way.
745 notes · View notes
corroded-hellfire · 2 months
Text
The Bunny and the Hair - Eddie Munson x Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: All you want is a cute photo of your daughter in her bunny costume and a photo of the whole Munson family together. But nothing is simple when the children of Eddie Munson are involved
Note: Happy Easter! Thank you to my darlings @munson-blurbs and @offensiunculaee for helping me brainstorm ideas when the only thing in my head was Eliza dressed as a bunny 💕
Words: 1.2k
[As You Wish masterlist]
Tumblr media
“Aww, come on sweet pea. Give me a smile.”
Your five-month-old daughter does the very opposite of that. It seems that Eliza Munson has somehow perfected the art of giving a piercing glare before mastering sitting up on her own without being a little wobbly. 
The fuzzy white bunny suit she’s in, hood with ears and all, paints the most adorable picture you’ve ever seen. It would be even cuter if she would flash a brief look of glee for a single photo. This Easter is warmer than it’s been in the last few years and it’s easy to understand that she’s getting hot, which is making her cranky. But you just want one good picture. 
“Just one little smile for Mommy? Please?” You raise the small silver camera to your eye before remembering that this new fancy one has a digital screen where you can see what the picture will look like without squinting through a little hole. 
Deciding to start snapping shots and see what happens, your forefinger presses the small shiny button that makes a soft click after click. A giggle bubbles out of you as you notice your baby getting grumpier and grumpier with each shot. A flipbook would be a perfect place to put these photos and flip through them to see Eliza Hulk-out in real time. 
She is getting officially fed up now. 
“Boys?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder to where your husband and sons stand, watching your attempt at an infant photo shoot. “Can you make her smile so I can get one good shot? Then I’ll get her out of that.”
If anything can make Eliza laugh, it’s her brothers. Particularly Luke, he likes to remind people. 
“Sure,” Ryan says, looking around for any prop to assist him. His brown eyes snag on the eggs on the coffee table, the ones you and the boys had been in the middle of preparing to be dyed before Eddie came out with Eliza in all her fluffy glory. “Hey! Liza! Watch this!” He catches the baby’s eye and picks up one of the boiled eggs and jumps up, pretending to crack it over Eddie’s head. It brings a small smile out of your daughter. 
“Hey, hey!” Luke says, waving his arms to attract his little sister’s attention. “Eliza, look!” The younger Munson boy grabs an egg and props one socked foot on the edge of the coffee table to leverage himself up high enough to copy Ryan’s actions.
“Oh, Luke, that one wasn’t–”
Your warning comes too late. The ten-year-old had picked up one of the eggs that had yet to be boiled in preparation for decorating. This comes to light when Luke crushes the egg over his father’s head and runny yolk and gooey egg whites plop down onto Eddie’s hair and drip down his frizzy curls. 
The air feels as if it’s been sucked out of the room. All eyes are on Eddie as his shoulders bunch up towards his ears and his jaw drops open, a small dollop of yellow yolk falling onto his salt-and-pepper scruff. It’s hard to tell how long the room is frozen, silent until—
Furious giggles come from behind you and it breaks the tension that kept the four of you rooted to your spots. You whip your head around to see Eliza laughing so hard that she loses her balance and flops down onto her side, unable to remain sitting up straight on her own. Quickly, you’re able to set her up right again and grab the camera getting a few shots of her, giddy as can be in her bunny suit. 
Relieved that’s taken care of, you now turn back to look back at your husband, who hasn’t moved a muscle. Neither has Luke. 
It’s obvious to you by the look on Eddie’s face that he can tell that it was an accident, but your son is wide-eyed in fear, clearly not getting the same sense. 
“E-Eliza, say bye-bye to Luke cause Dad is gonna kill me,” Luke says softly, never taking his bright blue eyes from his father’s egg-covered form. 
Eddie takes a step towards Luke slowly, clearly wanting to keep Luke in suspense until the last second, before he wipes a large glob of the sticky egg goo from his own hair and rubs it into the little boy’s messy curls. A maniacal laugh erupts from deep within Eddie as he tugs Luke against his chest, not letting his son get away as he squirms and squeals, trying to escape the shared messiness. Despite his protests, when Luke pulls back and looks up at his dad, he’s laughing. 
Watching the two of them in amusement, you put your hands on your hips and shake your head. Never a dull moment with the Munson men. The two of them continue to rub egg on one another as you turn towards the only clean boy in the house.
“Ryan, can you go get Eliza out of her costume? Last thing we need is her overheating.”
“Yeah, you get cranky enough already,” Ryan tells his baby sister as he scoops her up. Eliza gives a little harumph, but you think that’s more from the way the twelve-year-old holds onto her tightly than offense at his words. 
You set the camera down on the coffee table, making sure it isn’t near any of the eggs.
“Damn,” you say. “Forgot to get a family picture.”
“We’ll take one when Ry and Eliza come back out,” Eddie says, dodging Luke’s sticky fingers. 
“That’s gonna look great with you two looking like you fell in a vat of slime,” you say with a laugh. 
Your husband and his mini me only continue to get messier until you hear Ryan’s footsteps coming back down the hall toward the living room. The moment your eyes land on your daughter’s new ensemble, you have to do a double take. Eliza is beaming in her brother’s arms, wearing her bright pink bathing suit covered in large, white polka dots. 
Left speechless, your eyes widen and you’re only able to gesture with your hands towards the swimsuit.
Ryan shrugs as he hefts his sister up on his hip. “She grabbed it when I opened her drawer. And you said you didn't want her overheating.”
Your gaze slides from Eliza, over to Luke and Eddie, then back to Ryan.
“You and I are going to be the ones who stick out in the Easter picture,” you tell your oldest. “We look normal.”
“You mean we don’t look normal?” Luke asks, jumping on his dad’s back and scrunching up the man’s eggy curls. 
Sighing and shaking your head in amusement, you snatch up the camera and fiddle with it until you set the timer for three minutes. The entertainment unit is the perfect height to rest the camera so it can get a good shot of the whole family. You set it on the shelf right above the television and nod your family over toward where the lens is facing.
Eddie, still sporting Luke as a backpack, walks over and stands on your right. Ryan, carrying a still-beaming Eliza tucks into your left side. It’s impossible not to look over the gang around you, letting out a laugh as you take in the chaotic bunch.
“Smile!” Luke instructs everyone.
Eddie slips his hand around your waist and pulls your side flush up against his, squishing some of the egg whites against you, causing you to let out a squeal of laughter just as the flash of the camera goes off. Your husband grins and presses a big wet kiss on your cheek
“Now that picture’s gonna be a keeper,” he says. 
Tumblr media
527 notes · View notes
songbirdofthenight · 22 days
Text
Soft Eddie Blurb
Tumblr media
Author's note- this was meant to be like 5 lines of text and its more than that oops..
18+ MDNI Eddie x Fem!reader 
Warnings- Smut, somonophilia, fingering, dry (???? probably not) humping, finger suckings, pet names (good girl, honey, sweets, baby…)- please let me know if I forgot anything! Join my taglist: https://forms.gle/7BZnQs5r36bfbTQg7 Feel free to tip! Kofi linked here: https://ko-fi.com/songbirdofthenight post divider by reverieresources
Tumblr media
Thinking about soft!Eddie pulling you closer as you wake up. His hands hold you gently as you come back from your dreams. Eddie peppering kisses on your shoulders and neck as you hum and curl into him. 
“Morning, sweetheart.”
“Hi baby.” “Was thinkin’,” “Yeah?” 
“Thinkin’ bout kissing you all over,” 
You hum in response. 
“Gonna let me feel you baby? Let me wake you up, yeah?” 
“Mhm, go ahead Teddie.” Eddie kissed your skin, shifting you gently onto your back. He pulled himself on top of you, sliding his hands under his oversized shirt you slept in. Eddie sat with a knee resting between your legs and the other planted firmly beside you. His calloused fingertips traced over your delicate frame. Eddie kissed you oh so carefully, his lips softly soothing yours. His fingertips brushed across the plush of your hips, slipping into the waistband of your panties. His knee nudged your crotch, feeling the wet patch just barely there. 
“Gettin’ wet f’me aren’t ya?” He smiled as he leaned into your neck. Eddie’s lips were rough and slightly chapped against your neck as he created a constellation of marks on your skin. His hot breath caught your ear “be so good f’me, let me have you?” 
“Mhm,” it practically came out as a moan. Your sleepy haze was quickly being replaced with that of dizzy pleasure. Without much thought, you were grinding against his knee. The wet patch on your panties doubling in size as he continued sucking at your neck. Eddie, clad only in a tight pair of boxers, straddled your leg, humping your bare thigh in rhythm with the kisses he plastered on your neck.
“Eds,” you huffed out. 
“Right here baby,” he hummed back. Eddie’s fingers grew curious, one hand remained planted on your hip, the other sliding across your waist, fingers dipping between your folds. He took time to rub soft circles against your clit as you built pressure pushing further against his knee. “Feels good baby?” “So good, Teddie,” you moaned back. The last few bubbles of sleep collided with your pleasure filled haze as Eddie slipped two fingers into your sopping cunt. His movements were rhythmic, almost songlike as he pumped in and out of you. 
He’s always careful with you, never pushing your boundaries or doing too much. It was always just right. Eddie was quite skilled with his fingers. You often watched him practice guitar, paying close attention to the movement of his fingertips on the frets as they tapped away at whatever melody he decided to spontaneously learn. 
His fingers reached the soft, spongy spot inside you with perfect tension causing an arch in your back. He worked with such precision and care, watching as you arched with his movements. Your head nodded vigorously crying out to him. “Uh huh, uh huh, right there don’t stop” spilled from your lips like honey. You were dangerously close to the edge, his pace became quicker. Eddie hadn’t paid much attention to himself, barely noticing the tent in his boxers. His cock stirred as he watched you writhe beneath his touch. His movements became rash, rocking against your leg as you fucked his. The coil in your stomach was round so tight as he pressed harder and harder bringing you over the edge. You babbled a mixture of ‘cumming’ and slew of curses as your orgasm erupted over your body. Eddie’s coo’s were distant as you floated through the feeling. 
“Such a good girl for me,” he sang, “that’s it baby just like that, let go for me.” Your pussy pulsed around his drenched fingers as your high slowly subsided. You relaxed with a few heavy breaths. Eddie’s movements stopped as you came down from your high. You groaned as he pulled his fingers out, eyes opening to see him slide them into his mouth. “Taste’s soooo good honey, so sweet f’me.” 
You blushed. Eddie removed his fingers holding them to your lips. “C’mon, you gotta taste  baby,” he tapped your bottom lip. Your lips popped open for him to slide his fingers across your tongue. You could taste yourself and him, tongue swirling around his fingers. Eddie kept a soft rock on your thigh as you sucked his fingers. The tent in his boxers only becoming harder to ignore. “Keep going like that and I’m gonna cum in my pants sweets,” Eddie warned, stealing his fingers from your lips. “You awake now?” He hummed, “uh huh” you mumbled softly, just barely conscious. 
Eddie shook his head, “I don’t think you are honey, you gonna let me fuck you now? Let me wake you up real good?” He begged. Your legs spread wider exposing your drooling pussy, “wake me up Eds, need you so bad.”  Tags: @micheledawn1975 @ali-r3n @sataniicsex @luumunson @roxiehorrorshow @jenniquinn @tlclick73 @myanxietyishigh Leave a tip! https://ko-fi.com/songbirdofthenight
420 notes · View notes
notsosweetchan · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Warning: smut (Minors Do Not Interact)
Paring-Hyung line x reader-
Tumblr media
-Favorite position -
Chan (Reverse cowgirl)
He enjoys pressing his hips up against you, grinding down on your wet pussy as you ride him, it's the way your breasts bounce and jiggle with every thrust, how your nipples scrape against his chest. The sensation is intense, almost overwhelming. He breathes heavily, his eyes locked on your round ass cheeks as they gently sway from side to side.
His hands grab onto your thighs and pull you closer to him, digging into your flesh just slightly. His cock throbs inside of you, filling you up completely with each hard thrust.
"Oh fuck, yeah," he moans, his voice guttural as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. His fingers trail up your thighs, tracing delicate patterns on your skin before eventually finding their way to your clit.
Rubbing it in circles, he feels a shiver course through your body. Chan smiles to himself, knowing that he has the power to make you feel this way, to bring you so close to the edge of ecstasy just with his touch.
His hips pick up speed, slamming into you with a force that makes the headboard hit the wall. Your walls clench around him and Chan groans lustrously as he feels himself getting closer and closer to his peak.
"I'm gonna cum," he growls against your ear, his ragged breath hot against your sensitive skin. "I'm gonna cum inside of you." With a final thrust, Chan's orgasm washes over him, his cock twitching inside of you as he empties his seed deep within you.
Minho (Doggy style)
It allowed him to feel in control. he liked the power of dominating his you from behind, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he guided your movements to match his own relentless pace.
There was something primal and animalistic about it that appealed to his inner desires, a primal need to mark his territory and leave a lasting impression on you. he relished in the moans and whimpers you would let out as his hips slammed against yours, driving himself deeper and deeper within.
“Tell me you like it,” Minho growled in your ear, his voice husky with desire. “tell me how much you love it when i take you like this.” you moaned in response, unable to form any coherent words as the pleasure consumed you both. your nails dug into the sheets, your body trembling with every powerful thrust.
Minho grinned in response, spurring him on to go even harder. he could feel himself getting close, the tension coiling in the base of his spine.
“That’s it, love,” he groaned, his pace increasing even more. “come for me. I want to feel you come apart around my cock.”
The words sent you over the edge, and your orgasm washed over you like a wave crashing against the shore - powerful and consuming. Your muscles clenched around Minho's shaft, milking him for all he was worth as he too tumbled over the edge with a shout. he held onto your hips tightly as he came inside of you, both of them shaking in the aftermath of their shared release.
Changbin (Wall)
He feels in control while still being able to penetrate deeply. He takes his time, slowly entering and withdrawing from your tight heat, savoring every moan and gasp that escapes your lips. He rests his hands on your hips, guiding you to the perfect angle, angling his hips just right to hit all the right spots.
Changbin's thick girth stretches you open, claiming you with each and every thrust. "You feel so good," Changbin growls into your ear, placing a biting kiss on your neck, "like you were made for me."
His words send shivers down your spine, a wave of pleasure washing over you. Slowly but surely, Changbin picks up the pace, pounding into you with more force, making your bodies smack together with a wet slapping noise. Your moans grow louder, your orgasm building with each deep thrust.
"Chang-bin," you moan, his name coming out in a drawn-out whimper, "I'm close, I'm so close." "That's it," he pants, "cum for me baby, cum on my cock." His words push you over the edge and you cum hard, your inner walls clenching around him and milking his length.Changbin groans, his hips stilling as he releases himself inside you, filling you up with his warm cum.
Hyunjin (Spooing)
He wants to feel close and connected to you while still maintaining a sense of dominance. He enjoys the intimacy of being behind you, with your bodies pressed together, but also likes the control he has over the pace and depth of penetration.
This position enables him to caress and kiss the back of your neck, which he finds sensual and arousing. Hyunjin also appreciates the opportunity to whisper dirty words into your ear, something he knows can be a turn-on for you.
“I love feeling every inch of you, wrapped around me so tight,” he pants, his voice a low growl against your skin. His hands grasp your hips, guiding you into a rhythm that has you both moaning.
“You feel so good, so damn good...” is fingers trail up your stomach, teasingly brushing against your sensitive nipples before leaving you aching for more. As the pleasure builds, he nibbles on the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.
Hyunjin knows how much you love his possessive touches and doesn’t disappoint, biting down gently just enough to leave a mark but not hard enough to break the skin.
He wants you to remember this night, to feel him inside you even after he’s gone. The room is filled with the sounds of your combined panting and the wet, slick noises of their movements.
Suddenly, Hyunjin reaches around and slips a finger between your legs, massaging your clit in time with his thrusts. “Cum for me,” he commands, his voice husky and demanding. “I want to feel you coming apart around me.” His words send you over the edge, and you do as he says, your orgasm crashing over you in waves as your muscles involuntarily tighten around him.
Tumblr media
769 notes · View notes