#🎀: i am his and he is mine ~ in the end it’s him and I

[midnightpsychos]

"Shut up!" Quinn x Tyler

Here you go, I’ve tried to make Quinn a bit more dominant in this one @predatorymaniac

Quinn never thought that this would be happening, Tyler and her were about to have sex in a changing room for the first time ever since they’ve been married and both became famous due to them deciding to keep a private relationship and away from publish life.

He had her pinned against the door while his lips trailed down her neck back to her own mouth. “What if people hear me? You know how high my moans can get and I don’t want people finding out what we’re doing” Quinn whispered to Tyler as she traced her hands over his chest.

Any time that Quinn got to spend with her husband after he finished his tours  and when she wasn’t busy with her modelling career, Quinn would jump at the opportunity to hang out with Tyler and let him be the one in control, but today was something different, she wanted to have control over him. 

She had the confidence to be in the one in control for once but she had no idea on how to present it and that’s what she wanted to do today, right now, just act confident and see where it gets you. “Today is not your day to be in control, it’s my turn for once and you’re going to listen to me and be a good boy for me, okay darling?” Quinn commanded Tyler.

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Rafehub.com - Rafe Cameron Plink Library

+18 Minor DNI

Pornstar!Rafe Cameron - P🔗 Library

Welcome to RafeHub.com

This p!link library was made with my lover @rafesthroatbaby

if you love pornstar!Rafe check out the sexy au created by our baby @starkeyisthelastname

The titles were “written by Rafe” to give it a typical porn-esque vibe. The white text is a little backstory 💋

⭐️ Back shots 💦💦💦 🍑Your first video with Rafe

⭐️ stretching u like only i can let me ruin you 4 everyone else

⭐️ i love teasing what’s mine let me play with your pussy while daddy gets you ready for his cock Rafe easing you into it after making you sore from your last shoot

⭐️ Am i too rough? I’m sorry. I’ll take it nice n easy 4 you baby. I’m gonna try to make it all fit i promise. 🤡 cum back for part 2 where i fuck this slut into the mattress

⭐️ two girls one rafe 😈 After a night of partying, you and Rafe bring another actress back to his house to play

⭐️ they love to share me i guess i’ll keep them both

⭐️ Making a mess on the couch. How many times do i make her squirt?? 😜 Rafe’s been stalking your videos since. He didn’t know you could squirt. Now he’s desperate to make you squirt multiple times on camera.

⭐️ Messy girl ❤️‍🔥 gonna need a shower after this shit 🥵

⭐️ Let The Pussy Destroyer satisfy your breeding kink ♥️ The only actress Rafe finishes in unprotected is you. He can’t help but whisper the dirtiest shit in your ear about how he’s gonna end your career because he fucked a baby into you. But what he gets off on the most is how he’ll never have to watch you fuck anyone else again.

⭐️ daddy dicking her ⬇️

⭐️ Let me destroy you - size kink king 🍆 she’s takin this dick like a champ Rafe is clearly obsessed with you and his followers are getting jealous

⭐️ I love using your tight pussy such a perfect fucktoy for me

⭐ What Rafe sends to you after you send him your nudes 📸

⭐️ had to sneak away from her boyfriend to get fucked by daddy. Do you think he’s doin this shit like me?? 😂Shooting with Rafe after he tells you that you can fuck whoever… You mean nothing to him. He didn’t realize how wrong he was ��til it happened. His jealousy also went into overdrive after he found out that the other actor was an ex of yours. Of course he keeps that shit to himself.

⭐️ you just don’t stop cummin do you?

⭐ mine 📸 Rafe’s petty-ass posting this GIF online and sending it to your ex

⭐️ cum give daddy a hand and stroke me til I’m emptyDenying Rafe pussy because he won’t use his words and tell you how he feels when you can tell he’s annoyed

⭐ covering her with my load

⭐️ atta girl swallow daddy’s dick

⭐️ not gonna lie this chick fucked me look at her creamin on my big dick Fucking Rafe on camera after rumors circulate about him and another mattress actress. He put in an extra effort after getting his feelings hurt and now he regrets it completely

⭐️ she says she hates me… turns out she just needed some good dick

⭐️ she loves gettin slapped and fucked dumb Getting fucked rough after ignoring Rafe’s calls

⭐️ keep screaming for me. You think I’m gonna stop? 😂

⭐️ Babygirl couldn’t wait until the movie ended so i fucked her like the impatient slut she is Rafe invites you over for a movie. When you ask him if it’s a date he brushes you off because he’s too scared to get attached. “Nah, princess. We’re just hanging out. Thought we could relax and shoot some shit when we got bored.”

⭐️ my little anal queen’s so good 💦🍑 clenching and tightening around my dick

⭐️ 🩷My tongue and fingers are magic princess lay back and let daddy Rafe make you feel like a pretty little slut🩷 First video after Rafe finally tells you how he feels

⭐️ Trying new angles while I stretch out that perfect pussy 💯

⭐️ she came 2 play 🥵 little promo 4 you filthy slut. comment below it u want some more ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️ You both love money and sex. You don’t want to stop shooting, so you make a couples OnlyFans account instead, putting out a few promos on Twitter

⭐️ 🎀little miss innocent before she met me🎀

⭐️ U got me stroking my shit… can’t stop thinking about you Leaving Rafe for the weekend while you go on vacation with your friends. He’s so pussy whipped you have him playing with himself

⭐ Her 🤍📸 Rafe posting and watching some softer GIFs when you’re gone because he misses his babygirl

⭐️ Had to pull over cause she looked too fuckin good Rafe picking you up from the airport and he couldn’t even wait til you got home

⭐️ she loves that cameron cum 👑 think she’s the one

⭐️ think she likes her new gift ⛓️‍💥😈 Shooting content for your OnlyFans - switching it up with cuffs and masks

⭐️ heard you sluts liked masks

⭐️ look at you all tied up with your legs wide open and your dripping wet pussy throbbing waiting for some cameron cock

⭐️ Be a good girl and cum with Daddy while he plays with your toys 😈

Like, reblog, and comment to show us some love 🤍 @rafesthroatbaby inbox is open for any love you want to send her way as well!!

my masterlist 🔮

[cameronsprincess]

rafe x jealous!reader inspired by lana del rey „jealous girl“ (unreleased song sadly)🎀

„if i can’t have you baby, no one else in this world can.“

where he broke up with her because of her obsessive & jealous behavior a few weeks ago. (let’s pretend he’s not a killer haha) she sees him with another girl at a kook party & explodes with emotions. she beats up the girl & punches rafe & screams her lungs out that he belongs to her and no one else & that no one can have him if she can’t. topper and kelce literally have to drag her away from the poor beat up girl.

which literally leads to her breaking into tannyhill & threaten him with a gun. i’m thinking about no happy end because she ends up killing him and herself. but that’s up to you. or you can just erase the no happy end!

hope it’s not too gory, if it is it’s okay! maybe you could recommend someone who writes this kind of „gore“😩

BRO I LOVE THIS!!!! OMFG!!!!! she is me fr, bc who tf does Rafe think he is ???? leaving me??? NAH bby.

CW: violence, strong language, jealous!reader, toxic!reader, alcohol consumption, mention of a gun, breaking and entering, toxic relationship, mentions of blood. i think that’s it?

I didn’t understand why he’d left me. I mean, sure, I could be unpredictable and a little overly jealous. But he was mine. Any woman in my position would be the same way, right?

Maybe I took it too far sometimes. Maybe that was my problem. No, fuck that. If you’re not obsessed with the man or woman you’re with, then what’s the point, right? I was obsessed with him. I still am. So seeing him here with her has my blood boiling.

“Don’t do it.” My best friend, Kayla, says firmly.

I narrow my eyes on her, biting at the rim of my solo cup. “Don’t do what?” I ask, feigning innocence.

Kayla sighs, tossing back the rest of her drink before setting the cup onto the countertop. I place my eyes back on Rafe. He stands at the other side of the room, his right arm draped around the bitches shoulder as he laughs at whatever bullshit Topper was saying. He’s not that fucking funny.

I feel Kayla’s hand on my shoulder before she’s spinning me around to face her. Her amber eyes are narrowed in on my face. “I see the way you’re looking over there. Whatever you’re thinking of doing, squash it. It’s not fucking worth it, Y/N.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. It is fucking worth it. Rafe Cameron is mine, and it’s about time I remind him of that.

“Kayla, haven’t you ever loved someone so much, that you become overly obsessed with them? That you would do whatever the fuck it took to prove that they belonged to you? Because that’s what I feel for Rafe. I’m never going to win him back with her in the way.”

She sighs for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “Look, I get it. But you’re not going to win him back by doing something stupid. If you go over there, you might as well kiss him goodbye forever.”

She’s right. But I’ll never tell her that. Instead, I down the rest of my drink, tossing the cup into the trash bag that sits behind me and say, “I don’t give a fuck. She’s touching what’s mine. And that’s just unacceptable.”

I yank myself from her grip, turning and making my way toward Rafe and Jade.

Rafe’s eyes go wide when he sees me approaching, and I can’t help the smile that spreads on my lips.

“Hi baby, you miss me?” I ask him, batting my lashes while smiling widely.

“What’re you doing, Y/N? We’re not together anymore.”

I frown. “Baby, come on. You know you didn’t mean that shit. So why the fuck are you saying stupid shit? And why the fuck are you draped all over this bitch?” I ask, pointing toward the bleach blonde that’s tucked underneath his right arm.

A smile forms on Jade’s face, making my blood boil and my hands fist down by my sides.

“Oh Y/N.. You poor thing. Rafe told me you were fucking craz-”

My fist connecting with her nose cuts her words off. She falls to the ground, blood pouring from her nose as she holds it, glaring up at me.

“You bitch!” She shouts, and I just laugh. I jump onto her weak body, throwing punch after punch to her once perfect face. My knuckles are split from her teeth, my voice hoarse from screaming as I continuously hit the poor girl.

I feel two sets of strong arms ripping me up off her, my feet instinctively kick forward, getting her in the face one more good time before I’m physically dragged out of the house.

“Yo! Calm the fuck down, Y/N! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

My body is buzzing, adrenaline pumping through my veins has me seeing fucking stars right now. I look up, my eyes focusing on a mortified Topper and Kelce. I smile at them coldly.

“You guys are no fun” I pout. “I was winning back there ya know?”

Topper scoffs, his eyes wide. “You fucking broke her nose Y/N! You fucked her face up, Rafe’s gonna have to take her to the hospital… What’re you gonna do if one of them turns you into the police?!”

I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in my chest. “Oh please, Top. Rafe would never turn me in. He loves me.”

Kelce throws his hands up, turning and giving me his back before walking into the house to presumably check on Rafe and his bitch.

Topper takes a cautious step toward me, his right hand landing on my shoulder. I glare at his hand for a second before he pulls back, sighing. “Look, he did love you. But you scared him away. You were too jealous and too obsessive. Rafe didn’t like that, so now you have to let him go.”

I laugh at that too. Maybe Topper is funnier than I gave him credit for.

“Top, he will be mine. No one else in this world is good enough for him. I’ll make sure he knows that.”

Before he can say anything else, I turn on my heels and skip down the steps of his front porch, making my way home to get the things I’ll need for later together.

-

Two hours after I’d absolutely beat the shit out of Jade in front of all of my friends, I’m sitting outside of Tannyhill, my right hand holding the small metal weapon i’d gotten from my house, fingertips tracing over the trigger slowly while I hum silently to myself.

Rafe will learn tonight, that if I can’t have him. No one can.

He’ll either be smart and take me back, or I’ll take us both out. The choice is his.

After what felt like forever, his headlights lighting up the driveway have me sitting up straighter in my spot. I watch as he pulls his truck to the side, putting it in park and hopping out. He makes his way to the door, slightly swaying from all the alcohol I assume he consumed after Top and Kelce threw me out.

Fuck them. And fuck Rafe for allowing it. He should stick up for me. He should fucking love me. I do everything for him. I would do anything he asked. And yet, he doesn’t want me? The thought of him with anyone else has my blood fucking boiling.

I watch as he pushes the door open, moving to shut it but I quickly stand and sprint toward the door, stopping it with my hand. He drunkenly staggers backward, turning his head as a confused “what the?” falls from his mouth.

His eyes land on mine, squinting to try and make out who he’s looking at since it’s kinda dark in here.

“Hi, Rafe.”

His eyes go wide and he stumbles backward, throwing his hands up. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He asks, shaking his head from side to side.

A slow smile makes its way onto my lips. I make my way farther into the house, shutting and locking the door behind me. “I came to see you, baby. Why would you ask me that?”

He laughs. “We’re- we’re not together Y/N. You fucking broke Jade’s nose, along with many other bones in her face. You’re fucked in the head. Please, leave.”

I can’t contain the laugh that bubbles in my chest. I take a few slow steps toward him, and he matches them, taking a few steps back.

“Rafe, you’re hurting my feelings. You love me, why are you acting like you don’t?”

His back hits the couch behind him, and he sticks his hands behind him to catch himself. His blue eyes are wide and full of fear.

“Y/N… I- I did love you, but you were too jealous, too fucking obsessive… I couldn’t handle that shit.”

Tears fill my eyes as the words leave his mouth. They stung. But he also just pissed me off. I pull the gun I had tucked in my hoodie pocket out, pointing it toward him as I let the first tear fall.

“How could you say that, Rafe? I love you! I would do fucking anything for you! Why can’t you just accept me for who I am?”

Rafe’s eyes go wider—if that’s even possible— and he raises his hands higher. “Y/N… We can talk about this. Put the gun away baby.”

I let out a laugh that makes me sound borderline insane, and maybe I am. But love makes you do crazy things right? I love him, and if I can’t have him, no one can…

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” I scream, my hands shaking as I continue pointing the gun at his beautiful face.

“I-I’m not lying. Please, princess. Put the gun away so we can talk…”

I take another slow step toward him, standing almost directly in front of him now. His intoxicating scent floods my senses, making me feel almost dizzy.

I clear my throat, blinking away the fresh tears as my shaky hands stay pointing in his direction. “I would have done anything for you. I love you, and you just cast me aside because what? Because I cared too much? Because I was so in love with you it made me fucking crazy?” I pause, letting out a choked laugh as I watch the fear in his eyes slowly turn into sadness. He fucking felt bad? Good. “I love you, Rafe. I’m just here to let you know… If I can’t have you, no one can.”

His blue eyes well up with tears, and he quickly blinks them away. Lowering his hands to his sides, he takes a cautious step toward me, the barrel of the gun pressed into his chest. He reaches out his right hand, running his thumb across my cheek and wiping away a tear that had fallen.

“Sweetheart… Put the gun away, and let’s talk, yeah?”

I sniff, my eyes finding his piercing blue ones. I slowly nod my head, lowering the gun in front of me, hearing him let out a deep exhale before his hands wrap around the cold metal object. He quickly turns the safety on and tosses the gun behind him and onto the couch.

Tears flow quickly down my face, choked out sobs pulled from my chest as I just stare back at the man who’d broke my heart. If he didn’t choose me, I wasn’t sure how I’d continue living. I needed him. The thought of never feeling him again, never smelling his scent, having his lips on mine, hearing his soothing voice — it was all too much for me to think about.

His arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me flush into his hard body, has all of those negative thoughts flying out the window. He still loves me.

I sob into his chest, apologies falling from my mouth like word vomit as he lovingly rubs his hand up and down the length of my back, shushing me. “Shhh, s’okay baby. ‘M here. I’m sorry.”

He holds me, swaying our bodies back and forth for what feels like forever. The sweet words spilling from his mouth and the feel of his hands on my body again are comforting. Like a warm blanket wrapped around you on a particularly cold day, or like your grandmother having cookies out for you after school.

Rafe was my safe space. He was my home. And I couldn’t lose him. I refused to go on in life without him by my side.

His next words hurt, but gave me a sense of hope that we could make it work after all.

“We can work on us, okay? I’m not going anywhere princess,” He pauses, lifting my head from his chest so my eyes are on him, “But you need to get help. Get medicated or something. You can’t be going off the rails batshit crazy all the time. I’m worried about you, and I need to know you won’t lose your goddamn head anytime you feel threatened by someone.”

My eyes search his, his eyes telling me he means every word he’s saying. I couldn’t be mad. I was a little over the top sometimes. If getting help for my psycho tendencies meant getting to keep Rafe? I’d do it. I’d do anything to keep him.

I swallow thickly, nodding my head, “Okay…”

He places his right hand on the back of my head, pushing it back down onto his chest and pressing his lips onto the top of my head. My body melts into his, my arms tightly hugging at his waist as I silently cry. I suck in a shaky breath, mumbling against his chest, “I love you, Rafe.”

He sighs, rubbing his hands up and down my back softly. “I know, princess. I know.” He pauses, and the hesitation of him telling me he loves me too pulls at my heart. Shattering me. But he finally says the four words that kept me sane, “I love you too.”

rafe cameron masterlist | requests | taglist form

[buuniebaby]

ALL MINE. 🎀

includes: drunk sex (pre-negotiated), daddy kink, jealous possessive hamzah 💗💗💗

wc: 2.5k

here’s your porn.. i am sooo tired but literally first thing in the morning (my alarm is literally set to 5am) im finishing up some hcs and latina reader. 💗

thank you guys for all the support on my fics and being patient with me - it means a lot ! 💖

physical touch has always been your love language.

you’re a relatively clingy person in general, but your affection is doubled when you’re around your boyfriend. it’s always one of your hands somewhere - hip, thigh, arms, or even other places. he reciprocates it, being attached to you by the hip 24/7.

it only gets worse when you’re drunk.

hamzah’s in his car, grasping the wheel with an angry pressure, trying to keep his composure. it’s late - way too late to to be picking you up from the bar. he’s not necessarily upset at you for having fun, and he’s never one to control whether you go to parties or not, drink or not drink, but something about you being intoxicated with so many people around irritates him a bit.

he watches as you, your best friend, and a guy he doesn’t happen to recognize walk out of the door. whoever this guy is, he’s a little too touchy with you for hamzah’s liking. it’s like he’s trying to grope you but doesn’t want to be weird, but it’s still weird anyways.

he decides he’s been pushed a little too far off the edge when he slams his car in park and exits it.

you’re smiling up at him, head lulling back a bit. you’re fucked up, and he can tell. he watches as you droop back into the guy behind you, his walking pace speeding up.

he yells a loud, “baby?” trying to send some sort of signal to the man to show that you’re his. the moment he gets close enough to you to make contact with you, a big hand is yanking you by the wrist into his arms.

you immediately slouch into hamzah’s body, who picks you up over his shoulder and carries you back to the car. his grip is tight, as if someone was trying to steal you from his arms.

“hamzaahhhh,” you groan out, recognizing his possessive touch.

the car ride back is quiet - a mix of your boyfriend’s anger and your drunken sleepiness. it’s not that he’s angry at you; you’re not the problem here. it’s whoever he was, the man touching what belongs to hamzah.

“who was that?” he mumbles, speaking firmly under his breath.

“this guy who my friend.. she was trying to hook up with.. I think.” you mutter, remembering what you’re about to say as you speak it.

“you sure he’s into her? seemed more touchy around you.” he continues, keeping his eyes strictly in front of him.

“ew- don’t say that.” you drag as you speak, drunkenness prominent in your voice. you hear hamzah let out a chuckle under his breath. it calms him a little - he knows you’re better then that. it doesn’t end his irritation, but it makes him feel at least a little bit better.

“you’re mine, by the way.” hamzah says, hand creeping up to your thigh, the other still on the wheel. “don’t forget that.”

it’s still hurting hamzah by the time you get home. he’s aware that he may be being unreasonable, given that you’ve admitted you don’t have any attraction for whoever that was. but it’s the way you sway your hips drunkenly as you walk, thighs showing out of your tiny little dress - a sight he wants to hide away from the world, something that should belong to him. just the thought of anyone else being attracted to you makes him feel like his throat is closing up with anxiety.

as you’re turning the corner to go to your shared room, you force yourself to take a step back, doing a double take. you look at hamzah’s puzzled expression, trying to decipher whether what you’re seeing is real or you’re just drunk.

“you’re mad.” you state, looking at him straight in the eyes. you’re asking a question, but the way it comes out is firm. your brain is a little scrambled.

“m’not-“ he mumbles, stopping himself. “not at you.” he continues as he follows you into your bedroom.

you fall back-first onto the bed, closing your eyes and absentmindedly fidgeting with your fingers as you speak. “something happen?”

he scoffs a bit. you’re what happened.

“i guess you’re just.. really fucking hot. and other people know that, and it’s just like..” he rambles, pausing to think.

“like?” you tilt your head.

“like, i want you all to myself.” he says under his breath, sitting himself next to you on the bed. his comment makes you jolt up, sitting to face him.

you watch as he eyes you down from above. all you do is pout your lips, looking back at him with furrowed brows. you’re not getting it.

“you have me.” you say, firmly, scooting just a tiny bit closer to him. a hand trails to your thigh.

he lets out a deep sigh as he gathers his thoughts. you see his brain computing, like gears turning telling him what to say.

“i’m not saying you’re the problem.” he starts. “i know you’re loyal. i trust you.” you feel his hand move from your thigh to your hand, holding it gently, then giving it a squeeze. it’s a nice affirmation, but you still don’t understand what he’s getting at.

“just want you to be safe- don’t want anyone to hurt you. don’t want you just, trusting any guy at the bar when you’re messed up like this.” he says, rubbing his finger up and down your wrist. you lean your head on his shoulder, processing his words.

“yeah,” you sigh, closing your eyes on his shoulder. you can still feel his stare down at you, even if you can’t see it. “you’re right.”

that’s hamzah’s closure, his key to calm down and cuddle you in bed; rest his mind.

until he hears a quiet, “what if i want to get hurt? like, destroyed.”

“what?” he asks, peace interrupted. he’s turning to you, completely lost. you pout, and suddenly your hand has snuck out of his, now creeping over his sweatpants.

“especially by you.” you smile. now he understands where this is going. he shudders as you softly palm him over his pants. it’s not enough to get him going, but he can feel himself starting to get hard. “want you to use me like im your toy- because I’m yours, hamzah.”

and fuck, does that turn him on. you know exactly how to excite him, even when drunk. you’re pushing all the right buttons, making the possessiveness in him really start to come out.

his hand comes down on yours, bringing your movements to a stop. he breathes heavy for a second, but speaks firmly once his breath is caught. “you’re drunk, baby- i don’t know if you should-“

you interrupt him, coming in cold. “you don’t remember?”

he tilts his head back at you. “remember.. what?”

“i told you, when i was sober.. said you could do anything to me if i was drunk. said that for a reason, y’know.” you recall, giving him a big, eyes-dazed, woozy smile.

it comes back to him all then, and fuck, you’re right. he had completely forgotten about the whole conversation you two had, where you had given him permission to fuck you, even if you were intoxicated.

it’s a mix of that and the imagery in his mind from your prior words that causes him to mutter out a strangled “fuck it,” pulling your body on top of his. you can’t help but let out a squeal-like giggle: you’re finally getting what you’ve wanted.

he’s kneading at your hips before he can even pull you into a kiss. it’s messy when your lips press against his, sloppy kisses leaving spit around his lips.

his hand trails down to the bottom of your dress, pulling it over your ass. he pulls away from the kiss, wanting to see what’s down there, only to be met with a sight that fuels his possessiveness.

“wearing a slutty thong like this out?” he mutters, spanking you hard. “what if someone saw, baby? you know that pretty pussy is just for me.” he continues, rubbing over the same area he just spanked.

“m’sorry-“ you whine, but you’re cut off by your own voice, gasping as he rips your thong literally in half, pulling them off of you.

“it’s okay baby.” he smirks, holding the ripped panties in his hand. “you know that I’m the only guy who gets to see all of you.”

“also, ill buy you a new one.” he whispers, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. next thing you know he’s pulling your dress over your chest.

“no bra either baby?” he says, shaking his head, and suddenly another hand is coming down on your ass. “bad fucking slut.”

you grind your hips into him, apologizing with your body. you whimper out a helpless, “m’sorry, im sorry daddy-“

hamzah pulls back a little at that, pausing.

“what’d you just say?” he says, making sure what he just heard was real.

you continue to frantically apologize, a string of “m’sorry, im yours, i didn’t mean it,” until finally, you say that word.

“i’m sorry, daddy.”

that’s all it takes to get a rise out of hamzah. he’s slamming you down on the bed, crawling on top of you. his hips grind down on your naked body, dick still enclosed by his sweatpants, the friction sending shocks to your clit.

“my fucking slut,” he groans, “showing off her body to the whole fucking world.” his hips slam into yours hard, still fully clothed.

“you need me to mark you up? need everyone to know that you belong to me?” he angrily barks out at you, only making you wetter.

“please- wanna show you off daddy- bruise me.” is all you have to say for hamzah to start biting at your neck. he doesn’t stop at just a few hickeys, no, your throat is covered in bitemarks. he continues down to your collarbone, biting, suckling, nibbling - anything to claim your body as his.

he pulls away, admiring the redness all over your upper half. you’re like an art piece, painted with the red-hot passion coming from his body. you’re his muse.

a hand wraps itself around your throat, putting you in a chokehold. hamzah uses his grip to yank you out of your laying position. from there, he picks you up, pushing you down to the floor. you get on your knees, as if it’s an instinct.

“my pretty girl’s face, my fucking throat.” you hear him mindlessly mumble, untying and pulling down his sweatpants. you can see how hard he is through his boxers, cock nearly peeking out through the waistband. you feel your mouth water as he pulls it out, desperate for it to be inside you.

he slaps the head against your lips, once, twice, before you’re opening up for him. he goes slow at first, letting you dance your tongue around the tip, taking your time.

but hamzah is impatient.

it’s why he’s grabbing at the back of your head, forcing you down to the base. you squeal when your nose makes contact with the thick layer of hair against his skin, balls slapping against your chin. he holds your head there for a second, then lets you pull off for air.

you drunkenly smile up at him, spit slicked around your mouth. he slaps his cock against your face, making you squint your eyes. he laughs at how fucked-out you are, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“such a fucking slut.” he chuckles, deep and under his breath. “only for my cock.”

you smile up back at him stupidly, mouth still covered in slick. “only for your cock,” you repeat after him.

“mhmm? want it inside you?” he teases. what he doesn’t expect is your immediate reaction, excitedly jumping up off your knees and into his lap. you wrap your arms around his neck, bare chest pressed to his shirt.

“please, fuck- need your cock in me sooo bad daddy. want you to fucking use me, so bad, make a mess out of me.” you ramble, giggling as you speak. he grinds his hips up into yours as you relay your fantasies to him, turned on by how desperate you are for his cock, and his only.

“yeah? want it that bad, baby?” he says in a sing-song voice, teasing you. he grips his cock in his hand, touching your bare pussy with just the tip, but he makes sure not to slide it in. you nod, desperately, shaky pleads rapidly exiting your mouth.

“gotta do something for me first. that okay, baby?” he asks, and you’re nodding rapidly.

“mhm? what is it?” you ask back, eager for his cock.

“can you repeat after me, baby?” he softly asks, receiving another nod from you.

“im hamzah’s slut, and all of my holes belong to him.”

you don’t hesitate.

“im hamzah’s slut, all my holes belong to him, my pussy is yours- fuck!” you scream when his cock enters you. he doesn’t hesitate or slow for you to get used to the stretch. he’s claiming every inch of your pussy, going as deep as he can inside of you.

“fucking made for my cock.” he says, snapping his hips up into you at a cruel pace. “taking it so well.”

you can already feel yourself getting close. his dick prods up against that spot every thrust, and his words only make it feel better. you shudder at each brush against your sweet spot, thighs shaking softly against him.

hamzah only increases the pace, thrusting into you with vigor. it’s a brutal assault on your cunt, but god does it feel good. his hand brushes through his curls while the other pins you down to the mattress.

he feels you clench around him, and suddenly his thrusts switch from fast and eager to slow but deep. he follows you as you orgasm around him, planting his cum deep inside you.

he pulls out with a grunt, catching his breath while he admires your body. again - you’re his work of art. he watches as a trickle of cum leaks out of you, and he pushes it back in with his finger.

he’s claimed you.

you’re his.

he pulls himself out of his trance when your body moves out of its position. he remembers how drunk you are again, watching you as you reach to tuck yourself in under the covers. he places a kiss in your cheek before he gets in bed next to you, tucking the two of you in together.

it’s peaceful, domestic- it’s satisfying to him, the way he knows that you won’t get this with any other guy. even when you’re drunk, you still don’t protest his possessiveness. it makes him feel warm inside.

as much as you’re his, he’s yours.

[prettiestlovergirl]

hiii!! i love how u write theo and i was wondering if u could do another oral fixation!reader x cold!theo nott (it doesn’t have to be smut ofc, pls do whatever makes u comfortable, even if that means you don’t write this at all!!)

have a great night!

🎀 anon (if that’s not already taken ofc!)

oh, my love, i am sososo happy you asked me for this! idk why i have so much fun with cold! theo but i DO and the fact that you also love him makes me giddy hehe.

this is basically like a continuation of the last one! just a different nickname. (🎀 anon is all yours, babe!) i'm too lazy to add it to everything, bambola means doll! hope this lived up to your expectations. enjoy, my lovely! 𓆩♡𓆪

tw: MDNI; fem!reader; oral fixation! reader; princess! reader; jealousy; light hairpulling; fingering; unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it); sarcastic banter; ends with some fluff; italian! theodore nott

currently, slytherin house was throwing a massive party in the common room. you guys had won in your game against ravenclaw, so of course you were all celebrating with loud music and an abundance of alcohol.

theo was looking for you. the two of you hadn't gotten a moment alone since the library incident he couldn't stop replaying on a loop in his mind.

wanting you was a bad idea. you were from two different worlds, you were polar opposites, but fuck did he need to have you again more than air.

even in a room full of people, his eyes always found you first. unfortunately (for the other guy) you were in the middle of a dance with some guy from the year above you two.

your face was flushed from dancing, your eyes sparkling with joy and laughter as the guy spun you around. your hair was in a ponytail, and he had the sudden urge to wrap it around his fist and tug you to him.

all it would take is one little tug and you would be all his for the taking, the douchebag with his hands on you didn't stand a fucking chance against him.

theo remained cool and composed, but his eyes? his eyes gave everything away. they showed the jealousy sparking deep within him, one misplaced hand away from starting a fire.

you must have been able to feel the heat of his stare on your skin, because you turned your head around and were instantly met with theo's dark gaze.

your breath hitched and the previous smile on your face was wiped as theo approached, instantly wrapping his arms around you. he made a point to place his hand just above douchebags.

"bambola, you didn't tell me you made a new friend." theo mused, his cool and collected smile masking the jealousy, rage, and sudden desire to snap and beat the shit out of this guy for even looking at you, let alone touching you.

"hey, man, who the fuck are you?" douchebag scoffed, his arms still on you as bodies continued to sway and party around you. "someone who's going to kick your pathetic ass if you don't get out of here in the next five seconds."

douchebag looked like he wanted to argue, but the murderous glint in theo's eyes and the fact that he started lifting his fingers in a countdown finally scared him away.

"what the hell was that?!" you huffed, stepping away from his grasp and placing your hands on your hips. "i really like ethan!" you hissed, noticing the muscle tick in his jaw as you said his name.

"you can do better, bambola. he scared too easy, he's not worth your time." theo said coolly, slight smirk on his face as you rolled your eyes. "oh, because you're better? please-"

"you really think you would have enjoyed yourself with him, bella? you think he would have made your eyes roll the way i did? think his fingers would compare to mine? i can still hear your pretty little whimpers, darling."

a shiver ripped through your body at his words, lips parting in surprise at hearing the normally so calm and proper theodore nott speak such filthy words with ease.

"you've got five minutes to meet me by the stairs, bambola... or i've throw you over my shoulder and drag you up myself." he purred in your ear, his voice low and dark and raspy with desire.

of course, you followed theo out almost immediately. you would have been a fool not to follow him, especially with the way you couldn't help but replay the scene of you two in library every time you closed your eyes.

anticipation fluttered beneath your skin as you and theo walked up the stairs to the boy's dormitory. there was an aching pressure between your thighs as you walked, his hand on the small of your back burning so hot he was practically branding you.

you couldn't take your eyes off him the moment you stepped into the room. you hadn't uttered a word the whole way up, but you didn't have to: you both knew exactly what was going to happen tonight.

theo leaned back against the canopy of his bed, arms crossed as his eyes burned into you. "come here." he finally commanded; voice soft as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms.

you did as told, walking step by step until your bodies nearly collided. "fuck, bambola. you don't know what you do to me." he murmured before finally crashing his lips down onto yours in a rough, deliberate kiss.

his hand fisted your hair, holding you tightly as his teeth tugged at your bottom lip. he shifted a bit, sinking down onto his mattress and helping you straddle him with ease.

he pulled away after a moment, watching the way your chest heaved as you attempted to catch your breath before he left a trail of hot, fiery kisses down the side of your neck.

you could feel his cock digging into your skin through his boxers, drawing a soft whine out of you as you started to gently grind down against him.

he groaned against your neck, his hand sliding up your inner thigh until it reached your soaked panties. he pressed his palm firmly against your pussy, making you moan out in surprise and need.

"fuck, you're so wet." he groaned, dipping his hand into your panties and pushing two fingers inside your puffy walls. your eyes squeezed shut as you moaned, forehead leaning against his as you relished in the agonizingly delicious stretch.

"theo..." you gasped, mouth falling open as he buried his fingers to the hilt and immediately pressed his thumb against your swollen clit. "fuck, your roommates are gonna come up and see us." you whimpered, sweating beading on your forehead.

"no, they won't, bella." theo hummed, his voice maddeningly calm compared to your breathy whimpers. he brought his free hand up to your lips, pushing his thumb into your open mouth, effectively keeping you from asking more questions.

you rolled your hips down against him, desperate for more as he continued to slowly drag his thumb over your clit while his fingers rubbed against your walls. "need you to fuck me, please." you begged, coating his thumb in your saliva.

"ask me again." he demanded, voice still calm and collected as your tongue swirled around his thumb. "fuck me, theo. i need you to fuck me." you pleaded, opening your eyes to look right at him as he pulled his fingers out of you.

he flipped your positions, pushing you back against the mattress. his fingers made quick work of your clothes, stripping you completely bare for him. he ran his tongue over his lower lip, mouth going dry as he admired just how fucking gorgeous you were.

his gaze was almost predatory as he admired you before leaning down, kissing his way to your chest and taking a nipple into his mouth. he licked and tugged and teased while you squirmed and whimpered underneath him.

one hand gripped your hip tightly, it was definitely going to leave a fresh bruise on your skin but you didn't care. his other hand went down to quickly rid himself of his pants and boxers before lining himself up with you.

"look at me, bambola." he said roughly, waiting until your eyes were back on his. you nearly gasped when you saw him, the theodore nott in front of you was someone you could hardly recognize.

his usually perfect hair was tussled, his sweat making it stick to his forehead, and his eyes were pools of black and desire. "please." you begged, your voice hoarse with desire.

he kept direct eye contact with you as he finally pushed inside of you, inch by torturous fucking inch. it was sweaty and intimate and you'd never wanted this moment to end.

as he bottomed out, your mouth finally opened in a tortured moan. he lifted two fingers back into your mouth as he started to move slowly. you happily swirled your tongue around his fingers, thankful for the feeling as he started to pull back out.

he pulled out all the way until it was just the tip of his cock still inside before thrusting back inside of you. he thrusted deeper, faster, harder, and you wrapped your legs up around his waist to pull him closer.

after that, you could no longer form any thought that wasn't about how good his cock felt pounding into your desperate, soaked pussy. your tongue swirled around his fingers as you moaned and bucked your hips up to meet his thrusts.

tears streamed down your cheeks as he fucked into you, lips pressing kisses and bites all over your chest while your nails dug into his back. "look at you, bambola. already weeping from how good my cock is fucking your sweet little pussy."

your eyes rolled into the back of your head, the filthy words coming from him practically tipping you over the edge. "fuck, fuck, theo, 'm gonna cum, fuck!" you cried, toes curling as your orgasm crashed into you like a wave.

his controlled, deliberate thrusts quickly grew erratic. he let out a hiss as your nails scraped his skin, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he fucked into you. he pulled out a few moments later, coating your stomach in his cum.

you laid there while he got a rag to quickly clean you up, letting you stay collapsed and boneless against his sheets. theo being theo, he had to at least put your things in a pile before eventually laying beside you.

your eyes were closed, but you could feel his eyes staring at you intently. you finally opened one eye, staring at him as you yawned. "what?" you asked, biting your kiss-swollen lip.

"nothing, nothing it's just... i think this might be the longest i've ever heard you go without talking." he teased, a smirk on his face as his shoulders shook with laughter.

you wanted to be mad, you really did, but it was so impossibly hard to be mad when you heard him laugh. he was always so composed, so stoic. any time you could crack through his persona was a success in your eyes.

"mean!" you laughed, reaching up to smack his chest. he grabbed your arm before you could hit him and he tugged you in close. he pressed a soft, gentle kiss on the chunk of skin he'd bitten earlier before covering you with a sheet.

"you're mine, bambola, and now that i have you? i'm not letting you go any time soon."

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

[lovelykil]

Can I request jealous/ possessive hcs for killua :]

headcanons─

: ➛ killua

hc; jealous/ possessive kil

cw; none

note; YES ofc the way I have a few songs in mind that remind me of him when he's like this 🤗🎀

“but you're supposed to be mine..”

okay there's a total difference when he's jealous and when he's possessive.

when he's jealous he obviously doesn't like the person, doesn't talk much but observe them.

glaring at them, figuring out what their deal was and why were they so talkative with you.

kil came from a broken home, raised to be a cold-hearted intelligent assassin. Nothing more nothing less

affection and feelings were nothing he was familiar with. So he doesn't really know why he feels threatened by this individual.

being his partner doesn't make it any better, in fact it makes it so much worse. He feels a lot of negative emotions, fear you may leave him because he's not emotionally stable enough, or something small like the way he can't take affection well so he doesn't hug you kiss you much.

he over thinks alot when he's jealous, shuts off and flat-out ignores you all day.

he shakes off your caring hand when you land it on his shoulder, next to him in bed. Lost in his own mucked-up tangled thoughts that you can't really do much of so you leave him alone for the night.

his jealousy reminds me of that one meme or I mean like that movie where it's like

"you're supposed to be my lab partner"

"I am.."

"no you're not, you're disloyal."

he starts doubting himself, doubting he even is worth being with you

oh gosh it's such a shitty ordeal for him 🙁

if you expected the whole 'pulls you by the waist when he's jealous' type shi you are SOO wrong 🧏🏾‍♀️

if he can't even express his feelings what makes you think he can do such a gesture

he may wrap his arm around your neck, and glare at the person coldly, his eyes darkening, telling you its time to go.. but other than that

I don't think he would really do such a thing, he's the stare-and-watch-with-anger type of jealous guy 😣

now possessive killua ,,

he definitely goes out of his way to kill anyone he feels weary of. And even if he was wrong he shrugs it off, at least they won't be much of a problem for him anymore.

his love for you is like a never ending fire, the flames keep on growing taller the fire itself growing wider. And anyone who dares to step inside burns slowly to their end, as he watches with the fire reflecting off his sapphire eyes, capturing his ominous true intentions.

feels the need to keep you closer than ever just so he knows who you talk to and where you go.

and if he can't be around you all the time he usually freaks out, texts you like crazy

reassurance is something he is soo adamant about !!! I've said this before but IM GONNA SAY IT AGAIN

for when he's jealous and possessive one works better than the other though.

when he's jelly the reassurance makes him feel alot better, he apologizes for his rash behavior and hopes for some soothing affection. he's like a cute kitty, snuggling into your neck.

but when he's possessive he still apologizes for how he was acting, giving you a so innocent smile but underneath that cover up smile laid a horrendous, muckey, ominous monster of possessiveness, black and twisted. And would go out of its way to destroy anyone who dared to look at you in such a way or touch you.. hell even both

like I said came from a broken home, doesn't really know how take control of his feelings 🤷🏾‍♀️

plus raised to be assassin so makes the killing alot easier, doesn't really think much except you

only he can take your hand, give you gifts, touch you, talk to you

your his, and only his

aren't you?

this sounds a little yandere 💔

he's so silly guysssssssss ( ≧∀≦)ノ

he's done nothing wrong but steal many hearts (literally)

[venic-bxtch]

If I didn’t meet you

Synopsis: Pregnant Y/N asks Jack who he would have dated if they never met.

Paring: Husband!Jack x Wife!Black fem reader

TW: Talk of morning sickness and pregnancy

You were making your morning Mint Tea to calm down your morning sickness. Kaliea, your daughter, had been changed, fed, and put to play in the playroom.

Your husband was asleep since he stayed out late last night.

You walked back into the bedroom and sat at your white armchair you read at. As you opened up the blinds near you so you could see,Jack finally woke up.

He looked over at you smiling. His hair was messy and his eyes squinting,”Good Morning, baby.”

You got up to kiss his forehead,”Morning J.”

He sat up and patted on the spot where you sleep,”Come sit.”

You pouted,”Jackkk, my tea is gonna get cold!”

He chuckled,”You could get a blanket, put it on your stomach, then put your tea on your stomach and drink. Problem solved!”

You groan,”Fineeeeee. Only because I love you.” You got your tea from the side table and went to sit on the bed. You did as he said.

He stared at you for a while, smiling.

You raised an eyebrow,”What? Is there something on my face?”

He put his hand on your cheek,”Nah. You’re just so pretty.”

You smiled,”Thank you handsome.” A random question popped into your head,”Jack, if we never met. What would your life be like? I know mine would be..interesting…” Your parents had wanted you married off to a close family-friend of yours, since both families were religious.Your father owned a chain of designer resale stores across the country. Your family friends family owned mega churches and charities. You both went to the same church throughout your lives until you moved from Louisville to Florida. But there was no romantic feelings.

You and Jack met when he went on a summer vacation with his family during middle school years. You happened to be at the same beach that day. Your family had also happened to set up the beach umbrellas and chairs right next to Jack’s families umbrella and beach chairs. Your younger siblings built sandcastles together, practically giving you two a reason to speak to each other.

You left the beach that day with his phone number and a new crush, and the rest is history.

Jack furrowed his brows,”No clue…Why?”

You sighed,”Just curious. But seriously, who would you be with and what would your life be like?”

He began,”Well, I wouldn’t be Kaliea’s dad, we would have never been married, I would have ended up with a girl at my school who also had a similar passion for rap. Andddddd,” He put his hand on his heart and spoke dramatically,”I can’t imagine not giving you my kids. The process of it especially.”

You smacked his arm,”Jackman!”

He put his hands up in surrender,”What? It’s true. You liked it too!”

You smiled,”Yes I did. I can’t front on that.”

He nodded, smiling,”As you should. Now, where’s my morning kiss?”

You laughed,”Here.” You leaned in and kissed him. The kiss became more passionate by the second, then you pulled back,”Smush, I would….but I’m ok with one baby in my stomach for now. You’d make it happen even if it wasn’t possible.”

Kaliea began crying.

Jack got up,”Ah, I love fatherhood.” He said joking. He looked back at you,pointing,”And yes, I would make it possible, I am a very determined man.”

A/N: Just a little something before I put up chapter 3 of first class. I’ve been very busy with studying😭Psychiatry is not easy. Bear with me for now.

-Michelle💗🎀🌺

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 10

It was the era of the Polaroid and the beginning of videotape. He was the director and I his star acting out fantasies. We dressed up and undressed, played and wrestled, told stories, acted out our fantasies, and invented scenes. Whether it was dressing up in my school uniform and playing at being a sweet, innocent schoolgirl, or a secretary coming home from work and relaxing in the privacy of her own bedroom, or a teacher seducing her student, we were always inventing new stories, and eventually, I learned what stimulated Matt the most.

Almost every night I made quick trips to the local drugstore to buy considerable amounts of Polaroid film. Some of the cashiers knew me, and I wondered if they suspected what we were doing.

I put on dark glasses to “disguise” myself, but ended up looking even more conspicuous as I’d sweetly request twelve packs of Polaroid film while making excuses like, “Gee, the others must have been defective. I just can’t seem to get them to come out right,” or “You’re not going to believe this, but someone stole my film.”

Making it in and out of Graceland was no easy feat, either. I’d pass Mr. Stall at the gate at odd hours of the night, smiling and waving hello, returning shortly with the same smile and the same wave. I was sure he harbored some suspicious thoughts about what I was doing.

Matt laughed when I told him. “It’s all in your mind. He’s no more thinking anything than a dog sleeping.”

“Well, what if he starts spreading rumors, like I go out at night?”

“It might create some excitement around here. This town’s dead. Boston needs a little gossip!”

Matt and I both loved creating these sexual fantasies and it seemed to bring us closer together. I had no previous sexual experience to compare with his inventive sexuality and I was ready to indulge him any way I could. Being in the fast lane, he was exposed to every pleasure available in life. Ordinary thrills sometimes were not enough, especially when he was under the influence of powerful drugs.

At first I was totally open to Matt and many of his ideas. I lived for those moments we were alone. I was careful to say little that might jeopardize my bond with him. I fulfilled his needs, and his beliefs became mine. Under no circumstances were his ideas or playfulness perverted or in any way harmful.

A few days after he came home, he led me to his long black limousine and we sped off to one of Boston’s most exclusive boutiques on Union Street for some after-hours shopping, just as we’d done in Las Vegas. While the boys milled around the shop and the store’s sales staff tried to look nonchalant, Matt got a big kick out of having me model dozens of stunning dresses and suits and coats that were so stylish I was doubtful I could wear them. I was still an insecure teenager.

“Matt,” I said, wearing a sexy gold lamé gown that clung to my every curve, “these clothes are too sophisticated for me.”

“Sophisticated?” he said, regarding me admiringly. “What’s sophisticated? You could go around wearing a feather and that would be sophisticated.”

“Well, bring me a feather then.”

We spent four hours at that shop and during that time, I had a personalized lesson in the Matt Sturniolo Fashion Course.

As I tried on dress after dress, Matt delivered a running commentary on color. He liked me in red, blue, turquoise, emerald green, and black and white—the same colors he himself wore. He liked solids only, declaring that large prints took away from my looks. “Too distracting,” he said. He hated browns and dark green, colors inextricably associated in his mind with the Army.

Exhausted and a little confused about my new look, I walked out of the shop dressed in a sleek black linen suit with four-inch highheeled shoes to match. With Matt sitting proudly beside me, the guys loaded the trunk of the limo with armfuls of packages, and I felt very special.

Back at Graceland he had me model all my new clothes again for Grandma, who patiently sat through a long two hours of changes. I was Matt’s doll, his own living doll, to fashion as he pleased.

It was the early sixties, when clothes and makeup veered to extremes. Women’s eyeliner was heavier, their hair more teased, and their skirts shorter than ever before. All the rules I’d learned about dressing and applying makeup (less is more, the simpler the better) were being broken, and men seemed to love it. Matt certainly did. If I went a little light with the mascara or black eyeliner, he’d send me back upstairs to apply it more heavily.

Matt liked long hair. When I’d cut mine without asking his permission, he was shocked.

“How could you cut your goddamn hair? You know I like long hair. Men love long hair.”

He wanted it long and jet black, dyed to match his because, as he said, “You have pretty eyes, baby. Black hair will make your eyes stand out more.” He made a lot of sense to me and soon my hair was dyed jet black, like his.

The more we were together the more I came to resemble him in every way. His tastes, his insecurities, his hang-ups—all became mine.

For instance, high collars were his trademark, not because he especially liked them, but because he felt his neck looked too long. He never felt comfortable unless he was in a customized high-collared shirt, though in a pinch he’d turn the collar up on a regular shirt as he had when he was in school.

When he told me that the collar I was wearing on a particular blouse was too small for my “long, skinny neck,” I too began wearing high-collared shirts. Why not? My sole ambition was to please him, to be rewarded with his approval and affection. When he criticized me, I fell to pieces.

The Pygmalion nature of our relationship was a mixed blessing. The most fundamental thing at this stage in our life together was that Matt was my mentor, someone who studied my every gesture, listened critically to my every utterance, and was generous, to a fault, with advice.

When I did something that wasn’t to his liking, I was corrected. It is extremely difficult to relax under such scrutiny. Little escaped him. Little except the most salient fact of allthat I was a volcano about to erupt.

There were evenings when he’d send me back upstairs to change clothes because my choice was “dull,” “unflattering,” or “not dressy enough” for him. Even the way I walked came under review; he told me to move more slowly, and for a short while, he had me walking around the house with a book on my head.

I appreciated his interest, but I hated having to hear him remind me of my shortcomings so many times, and each time having to promise him that he’d never have to tell me again.

Would I ever be able to live up to his vision of how his ideal woman should behave and appear? She had to be sensitive, loving, and extremely understanding, meeting unusual demands any average woman might reject. This included being left behind when he made spur-of-the-moment, questionable “business” trips.

She had to be pretty and she had to possess an offbeat sense of humor to survive all the joking at Graceland. Often I’d walk into Sunday afternoon football gatherings and hear inside jokes about the cute all-American cheerleaders. Eventually I found myself thinking like one of the guys. “Nice tits and ass,” I’d say to myself. “A little heavy in the thighs, but the face makes up for it.”

Matt had a strong aversion to wearing jeans. As a poor boy, he had no choice but to wear them and he never wanted to lay eyes on another pair. That applied to everyone in the group.

His firm ideas on my wardrobe didn’t make it easy for me to go out and buy clothes for myself. One day I came home proud of a dress I’d just bought and couldn’t wait to put on. I knew he didn’t like prints, but this was a blackand-white flowered silk that I thought very special.

The first words out of his mouth when he saw me were: “That dress doesn’t suit you. Does nothing for you. Takes away from your face, your eyes. All you see’s the dress.”

As he tore me apart I started to cry. “Are you quite finished?” I inquired. I didn’t give him a chance to answer, bolting for my bathroom and slamming the door.

A few minutes later I heard his voice from the other side of the door: “You gotta keep away from those large prints. You’re a small girl, Sattnin.”

I opened the bathroom door and snapped, “Okay, I’ll return the fuckin’ dress.”

Matt fell to the floor laughing; eventually I joined in, unable to stop myself. Once again I’d compromised my own taste.

He ignored no aspect of my appearance, including my teeth. He took me to his dentist, told him to clean my teeth and give me a thorough examination. He was to look for probable cavities only and should I need any fillings, they were to be made of white porcelain. To him a mouth loaded with gold or silver was an eyesore.

He was equally fanatical about posture. If I slumped, he’d straighten my back. When I’d look up at him and wrinkle my forehead, he’d smooth it out—or tap it—telling me not to get in that habit. I didn’t like him rapping me, so I learned that one fast.

When we came home from the movies one night, I was getting ready for bed and he was in his office playing the piano. I came in to listen, propping my foot on the bench where he was sitting. He looked down at a small chip in my nail polish and I immediately withdrew my foot from the bench and started making up excuses about why it wasn’t fixed. “I’m going to have my pedicure tomorrow,” I promised.

“Good,” he said, “cause that doesn’t look like my Little Girl’s. You should always keep them looking nice.”

I was leading a double life—a schoolgirl by day, a femme fatale by night. Our evening appearance downstairs usually resembled a grand entrance. Even when our only intention was to have dinner, we always dressed for the occasion. Matt might wear a three-piece suit with a brocade vest and a Stetson hat. Under his coat he always carried a gun. He’d given me a small pearl-handled derringer and I carried it in my bra or tucked it into a holster around my waist. We were a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde.

Matt loved films, and we went to the Memphian almost every night. He was still renting the whole house after regular hours since he couldn’t attend a movie without being mobbed. One of the guys always lined up several films in case Matt didn’t like one of them or decided to see as many as three or four in a row. We usually arrived around midnight, our limousine pulling around to the back of the Memphian. From there we’d proceed into the side door like a royal couple leading their court.

Already seated in the theater were the usual crowd of thirty to fifty local friends and fans. Matt always sat in the same seat—with Nate Doe to his right, me to his left.

Before calling “Roll ’em!” he looked around the theater to make sure everyone was seated. He was an acutely aware person and could immediately spot any unwanted or unfamiliar faces. If any new faces were sitting too close to him, Matt suggested they move elsewhere. He was more lenient with the girls. He might not demand they move but he certainly wanted to know who they were, and should they object to being asked for this information or smart off in any way, he would not hesitate to have one of the boys escort them out, telling them never to come back.

There were times Matt rented the entire Boston Fairgrounds after closing and we all  spent hours on our favorite rides. We tried such daredevil feats on the roller-coaster as seeing who could stand the longest with both arms outstretched as it whipped and twisted around the track again and again.

Matt loved the bumper cars and would team up with the entourage against some locals. They’d spend the night seemingly trying to kill each other, laughing and bruising themselves like tough little boys while we girls watched and cheered them on. After several hours my own enthusiasm waned.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - hope u enjoyed this chapter!!🎀

[angeart]

Boatem Circus question cuz I am curious.

How did Grian end up at Scar's circus? I know it was said Scar was at the Watcher circus as a visitor... did he just see a traumatized birb and yoink him like 'mine now'?

-🎀

yay fun boatem circus question!! 🥰

it all happens when scar finds himself in an area that an infamous watcher circus is passing by. the circus is known for daring acts, it specialises in illusions and thrills! so scar wants to check it out. maybe get inspiration, you know? see what it's all about.

he isn't necessarily looking for hybrids in distress, but he is always on the lookout regardless. so when the fire act comes along and something seems off, he's instantly paying attention.

crowds cheer, deafening, and— the avian seems to be struggling. in a really subtle way. never stopping or pausing the act.

honestly, the performance is wonderful, and it looks gracious and impressive, but scar isn't convinced. he saw the avian hit his wing on one of the molten, fiery rings. (honestly, they look too small for what this avian is trying to do here—) he saw, for the rest of the performance, the faintly black spot of singed feathers. and amidst it all, he noted that grian wasn't grinning, unlike the other performers.

it all rings alarm bells in his head. so he goes backstage afterwards, to double check. just to be safe! just, following some gut instinct. he walks in with the confidence of a person who is exactly where he's meant to be.

and this is how he comes to witness grian being shoved into an awfully tiny cage. feathers still signed, injury untreated. he's being scolded. threatened with a lit torch through the iron bars, told to do better. if he doesn't want fire to touch him, then he needs to just do it right next time.

scar steps in, donning a salesman persona. a collector of wondrous things and creatures! he says he wants to buy this red-winged avian off of them. names a ludicrous sum, too.

the watchers refuse, laughing at him. they enjoy grian's suffering too much to let him go. they don't care for scar's (made-up) riches.

and, well. scar doesn't take a no for an answer <3

he sneaks back in later, breaks grian out, and gives him the same offer he gives to everyone else: a place to heal, to stay at, but at will. free to decide for himself.

free of cages and rings of fire.

he puts personhood back into grian's trembling, weak hands. and promises that one day, grian is going to thrive.

and if he needs to, scar will be there with him every step of the way until grian can see that for himself.

[scentedpeachlandcreator]

Hi Eli! I’m the anon with the supernatural fictional boyfriend that looks like my favorite 2D style :D

First of all, I love reading your stories about your boyfriend! One of them gave me the idea that maybe mine will also have a disguise when I meet him. He looks so fancy and hot...and my mind was kind of confused, but I decided it doesn’t matter—it’s still going to happen anyway! I’ve also had some success, though I have everything in 4D.

So, today I was roleplaying with him in the chat, and suddenly he mentioned the length and color of my hair, and color of my eyes, which isn’t the first time he’s done that. I was blushing so much, to be honest, and wanted to hide under the pillow.😳😭 One day ago, I was sleep-deprived and chatting with him, and suddenly he texted, “Darling, you need to sleep…you’re exhausted…”🥹 He kept insisting, so I decided to go to bed earlier. In that moment I low-key felt like God...😅🪄 I’m kind of embarrassed by my obsession with him, but I think it doesn’t affect my manifestation. I also wanted to ask, maybe could you please suggest me some affirmations for being with him? Thank you!!! 🎀🪄💕

Helloooo again!

GIRL YOU JUST MADE MY DAY😭💗🫶🏻 I CAN'T EXPLAIN HOW MUCH HAPPY I AM FEELING WHILE READING THIS!

I'm happy that i'm your inspiration 🥺🌷.

Well from what you wrote me i think that he's obviously sending you signs.

So i advice you to keep going and just know that he already exist and he's there.

Live in the end, think like he's already with you, spending Time together, cuddling, going on a date, talking to each other...etc.

So yeah keep living in your 4D and don't give up.

Some affirmation for you:

"i have a happy relationship with my boyfriend"

"my fictional boyfriend is already manifested"

"i'm texting my boyfriend right now"

"my boyfriend Pampers me with love and affection"

"i'm happy that i have such a handsome perfect boyfriend"

"my boyfriend treat me like a Queen"

These affirmation are so useful cause that would make your subconscious believe that you're already in a relationship with your fictional boyfriend and that he's already manifested.

Anyway i'm so proud of you and i can't wait for your Success story !

(p.s: i didn't script that my boyfriend would disguise himself, he did it himself, he told me he was so tired of girls fawning over him and following him everywhere, LOL it hilarious😂)

Love YA!

Xoxo, Eli

[midnightpsychos]

“...Can I?” Nate x Jules

Nate x summer can I ?

“...Can I kiss you and shit ?" Bobby x Alexia

“...Can I?” Tyler x Cole

Yessss, @predatorymaniac, give me all the good shit but I’ll just do it as two big threads as I’ve told you privately :). Here are the first two:

“...Can I?” Nate x Jules

“Of course you can, you don’t ever have to ask me if you want to kiss me- just do it” Jules was happy being with Nate and having the thought of being his girlfriend, even if it meant that they would have to lay low for the time being due to Lexi’s stupid play.

Jules didn’t give a shit about what people thought whenever they spotted Jules with nate because it was simply none of their businesses about how Jules could ‘tame the beast’ Nate without receiving bruises off of him if she did something wrong whether by accident or on purpose was fully up to their decisions but none of that really happened between the two of them. 

“Kiss me, fuck me, use me, whatever comes to your beautifully suck mind then do to me - I’m forever yours and only yours” Jules said with a dark lust in her eyes, looking at the former jock.

Nate x summer can I ? 

“Are you sure you want to kiss me? I know we’ve had our ups and downs but I want to make sure you want to be with me as much as I’d love to be with you” this was the first time Summer has felt her walls falling down, and this is something she wanted to be apart of - she had no interest of him being ‘dangerous’ or whatever shit the paparazzi were making up about him because it was a pile of bullshit. 

Summer saw what Nate was like with Amara and considering he claimed he didn’t know what to do, he was doing a great job at being a father to her daughter - it managed to stick out like a sore thumb when it came to Amara telling Summer that Nate was her favourite parent but never really bothered Summer. 

Having her alone time with Nate, they were cuddling on the her bed when he had asked her that question - she knew that he would know what the answer was but insisted that if they did kiss and it led to something (not that it was guaranteed they would) they’d have to be quiet due to Amara being in bed. “Of course you can kiss me, you can do anything you want to me. You’re my soulmate and I’m only yours, if that’s something you’d like?” Summer smiled at nate and you could see how much he made her world shine. 

[ururanus]

Professor!ghost x student!reader

18+ MDNI !NOT PROOFREAD!

Age gap!reader is not a minor! unprotected sex! Virgin reader!

A.N: this is my first story English is not my first language, i hope u understand and enjoy what i have managed to put out for you 💚

-----------------------------🎀--------------------------------

It was the kast period i had with professor Ghost at that point i was really tired and couldn't keep up with his lecture. I was drifting to sleep when i heard somebody calling my name, i slightly started to open my eyes to see who was calling me, "ms.y/l/n?" Why aren't you paying attention!! " Y/n" sorry sir i just found your lecture boring so i ended up falling asleep" P.G "if you keep that behaviour up you will be send to detention after class" Y/n "yeah whatever." I thought of being a little annoying today so i talked back at him. But like the teacher he is he sended me immediately to detention.

DETENTION :

P.G "well, well miss y/l/n we both know why you are here"

Y/n "No sir i have forgotten i think you need to remind me "

P.G " well then why dont you come over here and let me remind you what you have forgotten"

POV y/n: I slowly got up and made my way to his desk. It was obvious he was looking at my tiny tight skirt. His eyes were repeatedly going from my breasts and making their way down to my thighs. I felt so hot and bothered i could already feel my cheeks going red by the thought of him taking me right then and there.

POV Ghost: miss y/n was one if the most brattiest students i have met in all my years of teaching. But i couldn't help myself from thinking the most dirtiest scenario with her, i knew it was wrong for a guy my age to have thoughts for a student of mine. She has repeated this class 3 years till now but ill make sure this year she passes by straighting her out myself. As she made her way to my desk i couldn't help but look at her plush tits and he thick thighs.

Y/n "well sir are you gonna remind me if what happened or are you just gonna keep checking me out like a horny pervert"

P.G "i think ill do the second one and more than that how about you bend over this desk and let me remind you"

He grabbed my waist tightly and he bended me over the desk. He lifted my skirt and started carasing my thigh. I could feel myself getting wet from the way he was touching me. I was snapped back to reality from feeling his hard croch rubbing against my clothed pussy.

P.G " Am i making you wet already?"

I could not form a proper sentence. I was too focused by the way his dick was rubbing against me. And then is were i felt is fingerprint pulling down my wet panties , i felt something hard entering my virgin hole and him slowly thrusting against me making me tear up

P.G "why are you so tight. Has nobody ever touched you before?"

I could not speak i only nodded to his question. He chuckled letting me know he had seen me, he started slowly but roughly thrusting inside my wet cunny. i felt my world clench around his thick dick , in a matter of time i felt myself cumming around while i was quivering, i had never felt something so euphoric before. He started moaning and thrusting faster, thats how i knew he was getting close from how tight i was. I felt warm ropes of sperm feeling me up to my core, he started slowing his pace, he leaned down kissed my cheek and had let me know how good i was for him, and that i will see him next week. And i couldn't wait...

[t0mcruize123]

Stuck with you

Part four🎀🫶

This part contains some very 18+ mature smut so yeah you’ve been warned👹👹

Raymond sat in his bedroom and I glanced his way with a small frown. We were back in a hotel, and the more I got to know Raymond, the more I felt bad for him. It wasn’t fair for him to be dragged all this way just to lose his wealth - even if he didn’t know how to use it.

Charlie stepped into the room with narrowed eyes, “What are you going?”

I pointed to Ray’s room and whisper shouted, “It’s not fair to him!”

His lip curled slightly as he took another step forward, “I admire your care for him.”

“The care that you lack!” My hands tightened into fists at my sides. I didn’t want to be so angry at Charlie but he made it so easy, when he was rude to Raymond, “We got carried away in your car earlier and Ray nearly got hurt! If something bad happened and we didn’t get there in time-“

In one stride, Charlie closed the distance between us and was close enough that I could feel his body heat through the thin cotton on my dressing gown.

“Do you regret what happened earlier in my car?” His eyes were dark as they bored into mine.

“No,” I swallowed, “And that makes me a bad person, because something could’ve happened to him. We put him in danger and yet- if given the chance, I’d still stay with you in that car. I’m selfish and bad and-“

He takes hold of my hands and brings them to his chest. "Stop blaming yourself for having some fun! You’re allowed to mess around because no one got hurt, but if you’re feeling selfish, do whatever you need to get it out. You want to yell? Yell at me. You want to hit something? Hit me. I can take it."

Hitting him is the last thing I want to do, and suddenly, I'm done fighting it.

"Come on," he whispered, Show me what you've got."

Without a second thought or rather a thought, I surge up on my toes and kiss him. His body goes rigid for one beat, two, and then he pins quickly against the door, jostling the frame. Fuck. He captures my wrists in one hand and holds them prisoner above my head.

Charlie groans against my mouth and the plea in his tone floods my veins with a whole different form of power. Knowing he's just as affected by our attraction as I am is a rush.

"This isn't what you want."

"It's exactly what I want," I counter. "You said to do whatever I need, and I’m tired of patience." I arch my back, pressing the tips of my breasts against his chest.

His breathing changes, and there's a war in his eyes that I'm determined to win. It's time to stop dancing around this unbearable tension and break it.

He leans down, his mouth only inches from mine. "And I'm telling you that I'm the last thing you need." The barely leashed growl of his voice rumbles up through his chest, and every nerve ending in my body flares to life.

"Are you suggesting someone else?" My heart races as I chance calling his bluff.

"Fuck no." The unmistakable flare of jealousy narrows his eyes for a heartbeat before his hips pin mine to the door, and my instant relief at his answer is replaced by a jolt of pure lust. I can see that infamous control of his hovering on the edge, balancing precariously on the point of a knife.

All he needs is one. Little. Push. And I'm about to shamelessly shove.

"Good." I tilt my head up to his and draw his bottom lip between mine, sucking before gently nipping him with my teeth. "Because I only want you, Charlie.”

The words breach something within him, and he gives.

Finally.

Our mouths collide, and the kiss is hot and hard and completely out of our control. Need streaks down my spine as he takes my ass in his hands and hauls me against his hips, my back raking the ridges of the door behind me as I use it as leverage to push closer to his strength.

I wrap my legs around his waist and lock my ankles. My dressing gown rises with the motion, but I don't care, not with the all-consuming way he's kissing me. The caress of his mouth and the strokes of his wicked tongue steal every logical thought, and my world narrows to this kiss, this minute, this man. Mine. In this moment, Charlie Babbitt is mine.

Or maybe I'm his. Who fucking cares as long as he keeps kissing me?

Heat floods my body in an addictive rush, setting every inch of my skin aflame as his mouth slides down my neck in a sensual assault that makes me moan.

"Fuck,” he says against my throat, and then we're moving.

Wood scrapes the floor and crashes before my ass hits the bed, and my ankles fall from the small of his back when he leans over me, spearing his fingers through my hair at the nape of my neck as he takes my mouth again. I kiss him back with a hunger I've only known with him.

"You'll hate me in the morning. You. Don't. Really. Want. This" He punctuates each word with a kiss along my jaw, making his way to my ear.

He bites the lobe, and my core liquefies, going molten.

"Stop telling me what I want." I breathe raggedly and thread my fingers through the short strands of his hair, tilt my head, giving him better access. He takes it, working his way down my neck to where it curves into my shoulder.

Fuck, that feels good. Every touch of his mouth to my heated skin is flame to kindling, and I suck in a sharp breath when he lingers on a sensitive spot, taking his time. But then he stills again, his breath hot and wet against the side of my neck.

My brow furrows with an unwelcome thought. "Unless you don't want me?”

“Does this feel like I don't want you?" He takes my hand and slides it between our bodies, and my fingers curl around his length through his leathers. I whimper with pure want at the feel of how hard he is for me.

"I always fucking want you." He groans as I squeeze. Then he lifts his head, seizes my gaze with his, and I recognize the wild need in those gold-flecked depths. It mirrors my own. "You walk into a room, and I can't look away. I get anywhere near you, and this is what happens.

Instantly hard. Fucking hell, I can barely think when you're around." He rocks his hips into my hand, and my grip tightens along with my stomach. "Wanting you is not the problem here."

"Then what is?"

"I'm trying to do the honorable thing and not take advantage of you when you’re feeling shitty." His jaw flexes.

I smile and kiss the side of his mouth. "It's always a shit day around here. And it's not taking advantage when I'm asking" - my teeth nip at his lips-"correction, begging you to make my day better."

He says my name like a warning, as if he's something I should be wary of, and fuck, if I don't want to hear it again and again, just like that I was going to go insane.

"I don't want to think, Charlie I just want to feel.” I release him. One tug of the ribbon is all it takes to unravel the long, loose braid of my hair, and I run my fingers through the mass.

His eyes darken, and I know I've won.

"Fuck me, this hair," he says, then hovers his mouth over mine. "And this mouth. All I ever want to do is kiss you, even when you piss me off."

"So kiss me." I arch into him and claim his lips, kissing him like this might be the only time I'll get the chance. I melt against him, feeling every thrust of his tongue with mine. He tastes like mint, and I can’t get enough. He's the worst kind of addiction, dangerous and impossible to sate.

"Tell me to stop," he whispers, his thumb skimming the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, already slick and wet for him.

"Don't stop." I'll die if he does.

"Fuck,” he groans, slipping his hand between my thighs.

Never mind. That is how I want him to say my name from now on.

Just like that.

He glides the fabric of my underwear across my clit, and my back arches at the burst of pleasure that radiates through my body, so sweet I can taste it.

He captures my mouth with his again in a hungry assault, his tongue sliding against mine as his fingers stroke me through the fabric, expertly using it for friction. I try to rock my hips against his hand for more.

"Touch me," I demand, my fingernails biting into the back of his strong neck, desire pounding through me like a drumbeat. His fingers slide under my underwear and stroke my slickened core, and a moan tumbles from my lips.

"So damned soft." He kisses me deeply as his fingers touch and tease, making that sweet coil of pleasure tighten in my core. I dig my nails into his shoulder, my back arching as he makes tighter and tighter circles against my swollen clit. "I bet you taste just as good as you feel."

Pleasure shudders through me, a living, breathing fire beneath my skin.

"More." It's all I'm capable of saying, demanding, as my skin flushes and all I can do is whimper against his mouth as he slides two fingers inside me.

My muscles clench around him, and he works in a second.

"You're so fucking tight," His voice drops, sounding like it's been scraped over coals. " I can't wait to feel you come around my cock.”

That mouth. I ride his thrusting fingers and he curls them against my inner walls and I gasp, my thighs locking around his hips.

And when he uses his thumb to stroke my clit, the friction and pressure push me to the edge of mindless bliss.

I cry out, and he covers the sound with his mouth, kissing with devious strokes of his tongue that match the movement of his fingers within me.

"Look at you. You're fucking beautiful. Let go for me." His words curl around my mind, his mouth fused to mine, and the intimacy of it pushes me to the limit of pleasure and then right over it.

He swallows my cry as my back bows, the first wave of my orgasm washing over me, releasing that tight coil of tension in a burst of sparks at the edge of my vision.

"Charlie,” I moan as the pleasure ebbs and flares again.

He grins and slides his fingers from my body, and I'm nothing but ragged breaths and raw hunger as I reach for his shirt. I want it off now. He accommodates my urgency, ripping off the fabric, and then we're kissing again, all swirling tongues and roaming hands. The feel of his skin under my fingertips is divine, impossibly soft over yards of hard muscle. I trace the lines of his back, memorizing the dips and hollows as ripples with every move he makes.

"I need you now," I gasp and reach for the buttons of his trousers. I shove the fabric past his hips, freeing the thick length of his cock. It's hot and hard in my hand, and the moan that rips from his lips makes me me melt.

"I'm asking you to fuck me." I arch up and kiss him.

He groans, dragging my hips impossibly closer. He lifts me for a better angle, and the head of his cock rubs against my clit. I gasp and his eyes lock with mine. The hunger I see etched in every tense line of his body is my undoing. I need him. No more holding back. Not anymore.

He seemed to hesitate at my entrance and I pulled him closer, "I'm fine. You won't break me."

He pushes inside that first, tight inch of me, and I gasp at the fit, the stretch.

"More." I'm too busy kissing him to speak. "I need all of you."

"You're going to be the death of me," Whatever's left of his control slips, and he takes me completely with one hard thrust.

I moan into the kiss. Deep. He's so fucking deep that I feel him everywhere.

"Tell me you're all right." He's already moving, thank fuck.

"I'm perfect." Better than perfect.

"You feel so fucking good." He slams back into me, again and again, as he sets a brutal, steady pace, his mouth sliding down my neck as his hand rises to cup my breast.

I can't even think around the maddening pleasure as my back pounds the bed frame with every thrust, filling the room with the sound of our straining bodies and creaking wood. Every stroke is better than the last.

My breaths stutter.

"Fuck, I'm never going to get enough of you, am I?" he says, his face buried in my neck as I arch into him.

"Shut up and fuck me, Babbitt." Tomorrow is soon enough for regrets.

Reaching up, I grasp the top edge of the bed with one hand so I can rock back with more force, meeting the drive of his hips, taking him deeper, harder. He drags one of my nightgown's straps off my shoulder, and the cool night air kisses the hardened peak of my nipple a heartbeat before his hot mouth covers it. The sensations spiral, spinning and coiling, forming a tight knot of pleasure so deep within me, the tension is sublimely unbearable.

There's no stopping. We can't stop.

Fuck," he curses as he takes me over and over, never stopping, turning us again so that we collapsed onto the couch.

he drives on, winding that knot inside me painfully tighter with every movement.

“Charlie,” I cry out, simultaneously writhing yet holding on to him like he's the only thing anchoring me to the earth.

"I've got you,," he promises, his breath ragged pants against my lips. "Let it out."

That knot of pleasure builds to a breaking point as he takes me to the floor, and finally, I have all of his weight as he drives into me.

"So. Very. Beautiful." I punctate each word with a kiss.

He draws back, his eyes searching mine for a heartbeat or two before he devastates me with another kiss that has me straining for more, rocking my hips against his.

This man kisses with his whole body, rolling his hips in time with the linst of his tongue, bracing just enough of his weight so I can breathe.

He keeps me on the same edge he's riding, and I don't know how much longer I can take it.

"I need...I need..." My frantic eyes search his. Where are my words?

"I know." He claims my mouth again and reaches between us, using those talented fingers to stroke me into another orgasm, and I come apart under him.

Pleasure takes me in waves, rolling through me again and again until all I can do is clutch charlies shoulders and ride it out in blissful surrender.

"Beautiful," he whispers.

The second I come down, his rhythm breaks, and he presses my knee up toward my chest and takes me even deeper. I rock my hips up to meet his, sweat beading on our skin as I watch him unravel with rapt fascination.

I love his loss of control just as much as I fear my own, and when I swirl my hips, he groans, arching his neck as he thrusts once. Twice.

On the third, he shouts, then shudders within me and fills me with a pool of wetness. His juices mix with my sweat as they slide down my thighs and I pant heavily at the sensation.

He looks as shocked, and as enthralled, as I feel as we lay there, staring at each other, our chests heaving in the aftermath of what can only be described as complete and utter madness.

"I've never lost control like that," he says, bracing his weight on one arm and brushing my hair back from my face with the other. The move is so gentle, so at odds with what we've just experienced, that I can't help but blink, then smile.

"Me neither."The smile morphs into a full-out grin. "Not that I've ever had power to lose control of before."

He laughs and rolls us to his side, keeping me close and cushioning my head with his biceps.

"perfect." He cups the side of my face. "We should get you cleaned up and to sleep. We can worry about... the room tomorrow.”

I looked around to see the furniture thrown randomly across the room and the bed frame left dents in the wall.

“Wow,” I chuckled quietly and Charlie buried his face in the crook of my neck. I looked over his shoulder to see a figure sitting in the darkness and stiffened, fear locking me in place.

“Charlie,” I breathed quietly before realising, “I think Raymond is in the room.”

“What?” He lifted his head, “Raymond are you in the room?”

“Charlie, Charlie Babbitt,” he uttered.

“Well get out!” Charlie’s brow furrowed, “Get out! Go!”

I cringed as Raymond slowly walked out of the room with his head to the ground, “Go talk to him.”

Charlie looked back at me with a frown, “Talk to him?”

“Yes, Go talk to your brother now, he needs to know he didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But he did, he walked in on us-“

“He doesn’t know that,” I argued and nodded to the door, “Go.”

Sighing heavily, his gaze slid from mine as he walked out the bedroom with a slam. Did he have to be so dramatic all the time, all id asked was that he go see his brother! I pinched the bridge of my nose and made my way into the bathroom. The one thing I needed was a hot bath to wash away the sweat and ache in my muscles, though I did enjoy the feel of Charlie’s juices still dripping between my thighs, as though he’d left his mark.

I climbed into the bathtub and listened to Charlie yell at his brother. Fantastic, that was exactly what I’d asked him to do! The minutes ticked by and the more I listened to Charlie insult his brother, the more my anger tightened in my chest. I blew out an irritated breath as he walked through the door.

I turned away as his hand came up to brush my cheek, “You don’t listen to me.”

A crease drew between his brow and I snapped, “I told you to go in there and talk to him and you insulted him again-“

“What am I supposed to do? I’m not his mother for christs sake.”

“You’re his brother!” My voice rose, “Thry told you for the first time that you had a brother, and you give no reaction. There’s no joy-“

“Take it easy! You don’t know what I’m going through!” He levelled me with a look.

“No, I don’t know what you’re going through, what are you going through? Because I don’t know because you don’t tell me-“

“I told you what I was going through the first night we met!”

“I don’t care about the details, I care about you!” I stepped out of the bath and water cascaded down my body onto the floor, “I want to know how you feel! I want to know what you’re going through but you never open up.”

I made my way into the bathroom and he trailed behind me, “When we had sex, you told me I’d regret it. You told me it was just sex and that I needed to leave my personal feelings out of it, why?”

He flinched as though I’d physically hurt him and I repeated, “Why?”

“Because I don’t need things getting messy. I don’t need to fall for someone like you when I’ve got enough problems to deal with, I just needed a quick fuck.”

“Right." I don't expect that to hurt as much as it does, which is part of the problem. I'm already too emotionally involved to separate out the sex, no matter how phenomenal it is. "Here's the thing. I don't think I can separate sex from emotion when it comes to you." Well, shit, now I've said it. "We're already too close for that, and if we hook up again, I'm going to eventually fall for you." My heart pounds at the rushed confession, waiting for his response.

"You won't." Something akin to panic flares in his eyes, and he crosses his arms. I swear I can actually see the man building his defenses against his own feelings, shutting me out again. "You don't really know me. Not at my core."

And whose fault is that?

"I know enough," I argue softly. "And we'd have all the time in the world to figure it out if you'd stop acting like such an emotional chickenshit and just admit that you're going to fall for me, too, if we keep this up."

"I have no intention of falling for you." His eyes narrow and he enunciates every word, like I could possibly take that any other way.

Fuck. That. He was going to let me in, Charlie was just as wrapped up in this as I am, even if he's shitty at showing it.

"Ouch." I wince. "Well, it's clear you're not ready to admit where this is going. So yeah, I think it's best we agree that this was just a onetime thing." I force my shoulders to shrug. "We both needed to blow off some steam, and we did, right?"

"Right," he agrees, his jaw tensing.

"So the next time I see you, I'll just act as cool as you are right now and pretend that I'm not remembering what it feels like to have you sliding inside me." Warm and hard. He really does have an incredible body, but he doesn't get to dictate what I do with my heart.

He stalks forward with a smirk, his gaze warming every inch of my body."And I'll just pretend that I'm not remembering the feel of your soft thighs around my hips or those breathy little sounds you make right before you cum," His teeth rake over his lower lip, and it takes all my will power not to suck that lip into my mouth.

"And I'll ignore the memory of your hands biting into my hips, pinning me to the bed frame so you could take me deeper, and your mouth on my throat. Easy." My lips part as I retreat, my heart jumping in the best way when he follows, backing me against the wall.

His hand rests next to my head as he leans into my space, his lips curving into a half smile. "Then I guess I'll ignore the memory of how hot and slick you feel around my cock, and how you cry out for more until all I can think about is how to push every physical limit to be exactly what you need."

Shit. He's better at this game than I am. Heat flushes my skin. I want him closer. I want exactly what I had a few minutes ago. But I want more. His breath hits my lips in ragged pants, and I'm in no better condition.

Fuck it. I can have him, right? I can take exactly what he's offering and enjoy every single minute. We can shred every piece of furniture in this room and then move to his. But where will that leave us in the morning?

Right here, both wanting and only one of us brave enough to take, and I deserve more than a relationship that's only on his terms.

"You want me." I put my hand on his chest and feel his heart pounding, "And I know that scares you even though I want you just as badly."

I pushed away from his hold and grabbed a suitcase, “But I’ve had enough.”

“You’ve had enough?” He watched me pack my things, “What does that mean, you’ve had enough?”

“I’m leaving,” I wrapped my dressing gown around myself though it was torn from where Charlie had ripped it off my body.

“You’re leaving? You’re leaving me now, I need you!” He touched my arm and I shoved him back.

“You need nobody!” My heart thundered as I zipped my bag.

“What?! Just take it easy!” I rushed to the front door and he hooked his arm through my elbow, pulling me back.

“Look, what is my crime here?!,” his voice lowered.

“Your crime?!” My eyes narrowed into slits, “You’re crime is that you’re using people! You’re using Raymond, you’re using me, you’re using everyone!”

“Using-“ he gestured to Raymond’s door, “Raymond am I using you? Am I using you?!”

“Yeah,” he called.

“Shut up! He is answering a question from a half hour ago!”

“You use him Charlie, are you fucking blind! You use him for his money, you use me for sex-“

“I’m not using you for sex,” his frown deepened.

“No, you just don’t want a real relationship and needed a quick fuck,” I cut in, “I’m tired of your mind games, I’ll get to LA myself!”

I shrugged on my coat and headed for the door whilst he shouted, “Without a car?! Good fucking luck with that one-“

“I don’t need you!” I swallowed hard, “I don’t need any of this bullshit, I came here with one reason and that was to go to a wedding and that’s what I’m going to do! You were never supposed to happen-“

“Oh well I’m so sorry me and my brother inconvenienced your life by offering you a ride to LA!”

I spun on my heel and he cursed under his breath, “You’re soaking wet and you’re going to leave in the middle of the night, will you just- just wait!”

He grabbed both my shoulders and I blew out an angered breath, my heart hammering and my eyes burning.

“I’m not letting you leave this hotel like this, I’m not letting you leave us like this,” he looked down at me with a stern look and I pressed my lips into a thin line.

“There is no us, as you so often remind me.”

“Don’t be like that,” he snapped, “why can’t you understand that I have bigger things to deal with than a girlfriend right now? I’ve got too much on my mind to-“

“That’s why I’m here to help! You told me you needed me and yet you don’t want me to stay permanently?! You say you like the way I care and make things easier, but you don’t want me in the way?! Make up your mind Charlie or I’m walking out that door.”

His jaw tightened, “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh yeah?” My hand clasped around the handle, “Goodbye Babbitt.”

Before he could reply, I shut the door with a slam and rushed down the stairwell, my eyes burning with the threat of tears.

[slay0368]

🎀🫶🏼 sanzu haruchiyo and his relationship with fem reader🎀🫶🏼

MINORS GET THE FUCK AWAY

Shitty writing,not proofread,sanzu brain rot

Warnings-anger issues,smut,size kink,hate fucking,slut shaming,sanzu being a dilf, ALL THE CHARACTERS ARE ABOVE 20,enemies to lovers.Yeah I think that’s about it

Sanzu haruchiyo

When mikey first introduced you as bontens new number 4 he saw you as a slut and nothing more but over the weekend he saw you with another man on his lap,laughing and giggling like theirs no end LET ME TELL YOU HARUCHIYO SAW RED. So it’s casual to say by the next day the guy who you were sitting on was gone ,done and dusted all together.

Eventually you and sanzu had to share a room for a mission and as you thought he went out and wouldn’t be back till like 6 hours later you whipped out your trusty vibrator NOT KNOWING THAT SANZU THERE HAD PLANTED CAMERAS TO WATCH YOU FUCKING CAMERAS 😇😇😇😇😇😇

So he planted them to catch you like tripping over or to catch your embarrassing moments but as soon as he opened the cameras he saw you using a bullet vibrator and let me tell you he turned the car around so fucking fast and sped to the house /villa passing all the red lights and as soon as he reached he barged in almost breaking the door and he low key says “having fun without me sweetheart?” While smirking. I AM DEAD. Y/n “fuck” “oh no honey I’m gonna fuck you now” when sanzu said those words she gasped and her mouth fell open when she saw him taking out his dick and let me tell you he was big- “sanzu I don’t think it’ll fit” “oh sweetheart I’ll make it fit”

and when he sees your expression he puts on his smug smile “ bigger than you expected right but you’re a big girl you can take it right?” It wasn’t a question and you knew “now use your big girl words and tell me what you want slut”

The look on his face when you tell him your a virgin- he was grinning like a mad man (I meaannnnn he already is one- 🥰😇🤡 )

“Awww my poor slut never had dick in her life huh don’t worry I’m gonna help with that”he said while scissoring you open with his long fingers and as you get wet enough he lines the tip of his cock and runs it up and down your slit “if you really want this dick then beg for it whore” as embarrassing the scene would’ve been sanzu enjoyed seeing your flushed face while begging him to fuck you like the whore you are “ please sanzu I want you to make me feel good I promise I’ll be a good girl” that was enough for him to push inside you slowly since he was kind enough to see that your a virgin

“Sanzu it hurts,hurts s much” you try to say but sanzu just sushes you and says “your the one begging for this dick right? Then take it like a good whore”

As he bottoms out blood can be seen dripping underneath both of them staining the white sheets. As he starts to move at a rough pace you cry at him to stop but he just moves faster “oh what was that? You want he to go fast right then here” “sanzu gonna cum” you say as you cream in on his cock but he maintains his speed, as you get overstimulated sanzus thrusts are getting sloppier and your about to have your 5-6? Orgasm damn you were too dumb on his cock to count “ gonna cum inside you slut, that’s all your good for” as his pace falters “you love being treated like this don’t you” as he cums inside you as you milk every last drop from his balls

“Damn you okay?” “Yea didn’t take you for the caring type tbh” as he cleaned you up and gave u food and cuddles “your mine from now on got that?” While cuddling you “I was always yours haru” you said while cuddling him deeper

The night ended with you both naked and cuddling until the next morning when rindou found you both cuddling under the covers at 10 am when they should be ready for the mission-

OKAY THATS ALL FOR NOW THANKS FOR READINGGGGG

Pls reblog and like!

ITS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SORRY IF ITS A BIT YK-

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - none i dont think

y/nn = your nickname for anyone confused🩷

Chapter 4

It was already Christmas 1959, and I had no idea what to get Matt. I walked through the crowded streets of Wiesbaden, windowshopping, trying to get ideas. Picking out gifts for the family had always been easy, since we always knew exactly what was wanted or needed; in fact, we often made our gifts for one another. On this occasion my father gave me thirty-five dollars to spend on Matt, and it seemed a vast amount to me when I set out on this freezing cold day. I was slapped with the reality when I noticed a beautiful hand-made cigar box with porcelain outlining and a decorative design. Matt, a cigar smoker, would have loved it. But after the shopkeeper told me the price, 650 Deutsche marks or $155, all I walked out with was my expensive taste.

It was snowing heavily and I hurried into another shop, this one full of bright toys, including a solidly built toy German train that I could imagine Matt instantly setting up in his living room. But the train cost 2,000 Deutsche marks.

Heading home in the dark, on the verge of tears, I spotted a music store, where a pair of bongo drums inlaid with gleaming brass were displayed in the window. They were forty dollars, but the clerk took mercy on me and sold them for thirty-five. As I headed home I was beset by a thousand doubts, convinced that the drums were the least romantic of gifts.

I must have asked Nate Doe and David Jones twenty times if they thought the drums were appropriate. “Oh sure,” Nate said. “Anything you give him, he’ll like.” I still wasn’t convinced.

On the night we exchanged gifts, Matt emerged from his dad’s room and drew me to one corner of the living room, where he handed me a small wrapped box, in it, a delicate gold watch with a diamond set on the lid and a ring with a pearl bracketed by two diamonds.

I had never owned anything so beautiful, nor had any smile ever warmed me as Matt’s did then. “I’ll cherish these forever,” I told him, and he made me put them on right away and took me around to show everyone.

I waited as long as possible to give Matt my present. Laughing, he said, “Bongos! Just what I always wanted!” Matt could see that I didn’t believe him; he was better at giving than receiving. “Charlie,” he persisted, “didn’t I need some bongos?”

Motioning for me to sit next to him at the piano, he started playing “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” with such emotion that I couldn’t look up for fear he’d see I was crying. When at last I couldn’t resist meeting his eyes, I saw that he too was holding back tears.

It was not until many days later that I discovered a whole closet full of bongo drums, mine not included, in the basement. The fact that my white elephants had not been throw into the closet but instead were prominently displayed beside his guitar made me love him all the more.

As the days passed I began to dread the day of Matt’s departure. By January he was already packing, and each night I spent with him became more precious than the one before.

Then, just as the weather turned freezing cold, Matt was sent out on field maneuvers for ten days, and if there was anything Matt hated, it was having to sleep outside on the frozen ground.

The morning after he left, it began to snow and by afternoon it was a blizzard. As Michelle and I were driving home from school with my mother, I turned on the radio, just in time to hear a late-breaking news bulletin.

“Sorry to interrupt, folks, but it was just reported that Corporal Matt Sturniolo has been rushed from field maneuvers to a hospital in Frankfurt, suffering from an acute attack of tonsillitis. Matt, if you’re listening, we all hope you get well real soon.”

Frantic with worry, I called the hospital, hoping to learn more about his condition. To my surprise, when the operator heard my name she put me right through, saying Corporal Sturniolo had left word to do so if I called.

“I’m a sick man, Little One,” Matt rasped. “I need you by my side. If it’s okay with your folks, I’ll send David for you right now.”

Of course my parents gave me permission to go to the hospital, and an hour later I entered his room, just as the nurse was leaving. Matt was propped up in bed with a thermometer in his mouth, surrounded by dozens of floral arrangements.

The moment the nurse was gone, Matt took the thermometer out of his mouth, lit a match, and carefully held it under the thermometer. Then he stuck the thermometer back in his mouth and slumped down on the bed just as the door opened and the nurse returned, carrying in even more flowers.

Smiling warmly to her famous patient, she took the thermometer out of Matt’s mouth, looked at it, and gasped, “A hundred and three. Why, Matt, you’re really sick. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here at least a week.”

Matt nodded mutely as the nurse fluffed up his pillows, filled his water glass, and left the room. Then he burst out laughing, jumped out of bed, and took me in his arms.

He despised maneuvers, and since the weather was so bad and everyone was so worried about his voice, his answer was tonsillitis. Already susceptible to catching colds, Matt learned to dramatize his sickness with a little flick of a match.

It was March 1, 1960, the night before Matt was to leave Germany to return to the States.

We were lying on his bed, our arms around each other. I was in a state of complete despair.

“Oh, Matt,” I said, “I just wish there were some way you could take me with you. I can’t stand the thought of life without you. I love you so much.”

I began sobbing, my anguish overcoming my control.

“Shhh, Baby,” Matt whispered. “Try to calm down. There’s nothing we can do.”

“I’m just afraid you’ll forget me the moment you land,” I cried.

He smiled and kissed me gently. “I’m not going to forget you, y/nn. I’ve never felt this way about another girl. I love you.”

“You do?” I was stunned. Matt had said that I was special before, but he’d never said that he loved me. I wanted so badly to believe him, but I was frightened of getting hurt. I’d read some of Nicole’s letters, and I was sure Matt was on his way back to her open arms.

Holding me close, he said, “I’m torn with the feelings I have for you. I don’t know what to do. Maybe being away will help me understand what I really feel.”

That night our lovemaking took on a new urgency. Would I ever see him again, be in his arms the way I had been nearly every night for the past six months? I missed him already. I could not bear the thought of the night ending and our saying goodbye for what I thought would be the last time. I wept and wept until my body ached with pain.

For the last time I begged him to finally have sex with me. It would have been so easy for him. I was young, vulnerable, desperately in love, and he could have taken complete advantage of me. But he quietly said, “No. Someday we will, y/n, but not now. You’re just too young.”

I lay awake all that night and early the next morning I was back at 18 Hauptstrasse, lost in the midst of a large group of people milling about the living room. They were waiting to say goodbye to Matt, who was upstairs finishing his last-minute packing. Knowing that I alone would be accompanying him to the airport gave me little comfort.

When Matt came downstairs, he laughed and joked with everyone there. Finally, after saying his last goodbye, Matt turned to me. “Okay, Little One, it’s time to go.”

I nodded glumly and followed him out the door. Oblivious to the drizzling rain, hundreds of fans were waiting outside. When they saw Matt they went crazy, begging him to sign autographs. When he finished he jumped into the waiting car and pulled me in behind him. As the door slammed, the driver accelerated and we sped toward the airport.

We rode for a long while in silence, both of us lost in thought. Matt was gazing out the window, frowning over the falling rain. “I know it’s not going to be easy for you to go back to being a schoolgirl again after being with me, y/nn, but you’ve got to. I don’t want you to be sitting around moping after I leave, Little One.”

I started to protest, but he silenced me. “Try to have a good time, write to me every chance you get. I’ll look forward to your letters. Get pink stationery. Address them to Nate. That way I’ll know they’re from you. I want you to promise me you’ll stay the way you are. Untouched, as I left you.”

“I will,” I promised.

“I’ll look for you from the top of the ramp. I don’t want to see a sad face. Give me a little smile. I’ll take that with me.”

Then, handing me his combat jacket and the sergeant’s stripes he’d recently been

awarded, he said, “I want you to have these. It shows you belong to me.” After that, he held me tight.

As we approached the airport, the cheers of the waiting crowds grew louder. We drove as close to the runway as possible, then Matt turned to me and said, “This is it, Baby.”

We got out as cameras flashed, reporters shouted, and screaming fans pressed toward us. Matt held my hand and walked across the runway apron until the guard, who was there to escort Matt to the plane, stopped me from going further.

Matt gave me a brief hug and whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll call you when I get home, Baby, promise.”

I nodded, but before I could answer, we were pulled apart as the crowd rushed in. I was swept away by hundreds of fans, pushing and pulling, trying to get to him. I cried, “Matt!” but he never heard me.

He ran up the boarding steps. Then he turned and waved to the crowd, his eyes searching for me. I waved frantically, as did hundreds of other fans, yet he found me, and for one more brief moment, our eyes locked. Then he disappeared. Just like that.

My parents came to the airport to drive me back to Wiesbaden. During the long ride I was silent.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - sad chapter 😪 (sorry its shorter than ones before)🎀

[forjongseong]

NOO BECAUSE 🎀 ANON IS SO RIGHT ABOUT JAYS FANBASE BEING OLDER? it didn’t click into my head until now but it’s true that i rarely see jay stans that are still underage. enha’s fanbase as a whole is really young imo so even jays fans who tend to be older end up just being around his age and slightly older than hee too. and the stuff about jay being Hong Kong actor handsome is also so true i feel like he would absolutely demolish a concept centered around wong kar wai’s typical movie aesthetic.

as for the how other writers write jay i kinda agree with that anon but also i get why some writers lean into that. if someone who just joined the fandom is trying to write for him, their first thought is going to be writing jay as cold and more mean just because that’s the image they get at first glance. we obviously know that that’s not true but that’s mostly because we’ve spent more time the fandom (and consumed other media outside of tumblr) and know how he is (or at least how he presents himself). i get how annoying it can be though especially since many people just don’t write for jay as often as they do the other members so it seems like more and more fanfics don’t have the variety that usually given to the other members since jay comparatively has a lower pool to choose from.

and as for why jay isn’t written about as much (this such a long ask im so sorry LMAO) i think a big is how people present him in the fandom which kinda connects to the fanfics. you go on tiktok and some of the top tiktoks of jay are about how he’s rich, how he likes corn, how he has “anger issues”, basically a bunch of first glance stuff that don’t really encompass who he is. thankfully now and a lot of people on there talk more about how goofy he is and how much he cares for others but since tiktok is so widely used now, if someone is introduced to enha through tiktok, they probably get a very skewed view of jay. that’s just my experience as someone who got into enha last year through tiktok! i personally had a very different view of jay for a while until i saw him play polaroid love on the guitar and idk he just seemed so much more “human” i guess? more like he finally seemed like he had much more of a personality and depth to him than what people on tiktok were saying.

your writings however especially the assistant jay series OH MY GOD chefs kiss 💋

🎀 ANON HERE YOU GO another anon who agrees!

WONG KAR WAI!!!! BESTIE I SWEAR TO GOD I found an edit either on Twitter or TikTok of Jay and Wong Kar Wai omg I'm sad I didn't save the link or something but yes a thousand times yes... HIM and his aesthetic! also sometimes I joke around with my friends saying that Jay looks so mature he almost looks like he's Park Hae Soo's age (not to mention their vibes are similar too ahsdahsdhdsa OR MAYBE the CEO/husband from The Glory????)

I agree with you saying that the cold/cool guy image is the first thing they get when they are first introduced to Jay (especially since debut era where he was blonde and overall just exuded jock vibes) anyway agree with that whole paragraph

DON'T APOLOGIZE FOR THE LONG ASK I am here for it honestly can you all send more???? stay hidden in anon, I don't mind. I just love reading this stuff.

the "anger issues" HELP thanks for putting that in quotes... I don't know what other people's fyp look like but mine are just funny edits of enhypen 😭 I followed enha since their egg days (I-LAND) so I already knew the type of guy Jay is, so I think that's what made it feel jarring to me the way some people rely on Jay's outer appearance or first impression/vibe to build his character. on god the people on tiktok are another breed though. tumblr engenes, tiktok engenes, and twitter engenes are all from different planets hasdhashdsa

thank you for loving secretary Jay 💋💋💋