#Austin butler imagine

[rubymariebutler]

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀 ┃ 𝖠𝖴𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖭 𝖡𝖴𝖳𝖫𝖤𝖱

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: austin has his priscilla, but what is this priscilla's life like?

pairing: austin butler x priscilla!reader

chapter: 01/??

faceclaim: yael shelbia

warnings: age gap (22/32), established relationship, power imbalance, dom!austin, sub!reader, protective!austin, protective!reader, pet names, choking, rough sex, praise kink, degradation kink, size kink, breeding kink, housewife kink, marriage, pregnancy, kids, references to elvis and priscilla, parallels with elvis and priscilla, austin referring to the reader as his priscilla, smut, fluff, romance

ruby's note: i'll start by apologizing if you find any spelling mistakes, english is not my first language, so i'll probably get some words wrong and i apologize for that, i'm trying to improve. that said, i hope you all enjoy the reading. it's my first time writing here, so it feels a little weird, but i try to do the best i can <3

it's coming to an end. after so many months of traveling and barely sleeping, the elvis press tour is coming to an end. it's bittersweet. austin will definitely miss it; meeting people, cities, eating new food, traveling and hanging out with the guys who have become his friends and more. he likes it, he will miss it and the people who have been with him, but, honestly, he would be a complete liar if he said he didn't feel happy and relieved that it's all coming to an end. he likes it, he will miss it and the people who have been with him, but, honestly, he would be a complete liar if he said he wasn't happy and relieved that it's all coming to an end. elvis is a project he is deeply in love with and he put his heart and soul into it to make it work. and he did. but he's happy it's ending.

because he needs you.

he needs his priscilla.

he needs to see you again in person and not through a screen, he needs to press his lips against yours again, he needs to inhale your sweet scent again, he needs to watch you personally do your homework instead of just getting pictures, he needs to hold you in his arms again, he needs to feel your little body against his again, he needs to wake up with you next to him, he needs to make you gasp and moan again, he needs to fuck you into a sobbing, quivering mess.

he needs his little girl, his priscilla. he needs you.

so, he doesn't know if it's that or something else that prompts him to answer honestly when asked in his last face-to-face interview if, like elvis, he also has his priscilla. he knows that maybe he shouldn't answer truthfully; he brought back elvis and many love elvis, but his relationship with priscilla was controversial especially because of the age difference, and the age gap between you is also ten years, so he knows that more than one will label him a pedophile and a predator.

so no, maybe he shouldn't do it.

but he still does it, because he thinks it's okay to do a million stupid things in life.

he hums for a moment, thinking of the right words to answer as he shifts a little to get more comfortable on the couch. then he looks at the woman sitting across from him, the one in charge of interviewing him and the only brave one who dared to ask the million-dollar question.

"yes." he replies in a low, calm voice, and can't help but smile when he sees the expression on the woman's face. "yes, i have my priscilla too."

"wait, what?" she blinks, leaning forward a bit without losing the surprised expression on her face. "you have your priscilla?"

he nods with an amused smile. "yes, i have my priscilla. she's at home, probably baking cookies. she loves to bake cookies."

"oh, my god..." she mumbles with a surprised smile. "aren't you single?"

austin laughs softly, shaking his head. "no, i'm not. i have my lady waiting at home."

"christ..." she blinks. "and who's the lucky girl? what's her name?"

of course they would ask him that question. look, it's not that austin wants to hide you, god knows he wants to show you off to everyone, but he's also a private man who got himself an equally private girl who doesn't want attention or paparazzi on her.

so, better that way; private, but not secret.

"for privacy, i'd rather not say. she's not part of the media and she doesn't want to be, either, so i'd rather not say her name so as not to stir things up. someday, maybe, when she's ready."

of course, the first thing austin gets when he leaves the interview is a stern rebuke from his manager for revealing his relationship with you without consulting him first. in his defense, he didn't even know he was going to be asked that question, so he gets his manager to let him go and soon says goodbye to the others so he can finally return to los angeles.

back home. back to you.

he takes advantage of the flight to make some last schedule adjustments with his manager; many people are requesting him for their projects, but they will have to wait until 2023, because he won't leave your side for the next few days and the shooting of dune will start soon. he would like to take you everywhere with him, because he can, but apart from the fact that you are still studying, he knows that you prefer to stay at home and, above all, you are trying to keep things as private as possible; it was you who decided not to show yourself in public.

if it were up to austin, he would take you to every red carpet, but he knows you're not that kind of person.

when he comes home, a genuine, joyful laugh bursts from his throat as you run to embrace him. his strong, toned arms wrap around your small body immediately and lift you off the ground with ease, making you wrap those amazing legs around his waist. he closes his eyes and buries his face in your hair, inhaling your sweet scent with a mixture of love, joy and need. he almost cries at the feeling of finally holding you in his arms after months.

"hello, satnin..." he says in your ear and smiles when he feels your skin bristle at the sound of his voice. "how are you, sweet girl?"

"good, now that you're here." austin rubs his nose against your neck tenderly as he feels you cling to him like a koala bear. "god, i missed you so much..."

"me too, love, me too..." he kisses your neck and then another in your hair. "but i'm here now... what does my doll have to tell me, huh?"

he pulls his head away slightly to look into your eyes, those beautiful bright, innocent eyes that made him fall in love, and then he watches your sweet, soft smile as you watch him back, absorbing everything about him. you missed him too much. his big hand moves to cup your face as his other arm wraps around your waist, keeping you pressed against him. he looks at your lips and doesn't hesitate as he brings them together with his own in a kiss that takes your breath away with its intensity.

it's a kiss that takes your breath away. austin has always been good at it, but this kiss expresses more than just the unbridled passion that normally engulfs you when you're together. here there's love, longing, and it's all intense and almost rough, and he thrusts his tongue into your mouth without permission, taking and taking, like he always has. you moan a little at the intensity and are panting when he pulls away to look into your eyes with that damn smile he knows you love.

"how's college?" he decides to ask, walking with you in his arms to sit on one of the luxury couches that decorate the large living room. "are you being a good student, baby?"

still a little dazed from the kiss he just gave you, you blink and nod, settling into his lap. "i... yeah. i don't have any projects due and the teacher says i'm progressing faster than the rest."

austin smiles with a mixture of pride and amusement at that, because of course, of course, of course you're a bright girl. he's always known that, and while it's not a surprise to hear you say that, it does make him proud. his smart girl.

"what a good girl." he praises you almost in a coo and enjoys seeing your sweet, shy little smile, the pink in your cheeks. "i'm so proud of you."

"thank you..."

his hands, big and warm, rest on your pale, slender thighs, feeling a mixture of affection and possessiveness at the sight of his hands on your soft, milky skin. he's the only one who can touch you this way; he's already shown you and you've already learned. his hands move, gently moving up until they reach your ass and squeeze the flesh of your cheeks between his hands, making you gasp.

"you know?" begins austin in a low voice. "something happened at the last interview that caught me off guard."

"oh?"

"yes. they asked me about you."

austin watches you frown in confusion. "about me?"

he nods, massaging your ass. "they asked me if i had my priscilla. i told them yes."

he almost laughs as he watches your eyes widen in alarm. "you told them my name?"

but he's already shaking his head. "no, no, honey, i didn't tell them anything about you. i just told them i have my priscilla."

"you'll scare your fans away." you tell him, laughing lightly.

austin smiles, frowning, and shakes his head. "i won't. if they're my fans, they'll have to understand that i have my priscilla and i'm not leaving her."

he watches as you remain silent, looking into his eyes. your eyes, blue and bright, are very much like his. you seem to ponder his words, even hesitate a little. on the one hand, he doesn't understand; he loves you and has proven it to you. yet, on the other hand, it definitely makes sense that there are doubts swirling around in that beautiful head of yours; considering the history of elvis and priscilla and how much the role consumed austin, he understands that you have doubts.

but he knows better; there's no fucking way he's going to do the same to you.

he's not elvis, and you're not priscilla. he won't abuse you in any way, and he knows you won't either. he knows you're not looking for fame or attention; you're with him because you love him. and you know what? he loves you too, more than anything. he will take good care of you.

"you won't?"

his right hand travels to your neck and tightens around it. you gasp a little, but austin maintains his grip and pulls you close so that your faces are mere inches apart. his eyes stare into yours for a moment, before he speaks.

"the only possible way we'll be apart will be if you leave me, 'cilla..." he says softly, staring at you, and you almost look away, feeling intimidated, but you know he doesn't like that. "but you won't, will you, baby?"

you swallow saliva with a little difficulty from his grip on your neck. "i won't..."

"good girl." austin removes his grip, returning his hand to rest on your right thigh.

you take a breath. "i cooked for you..."

he feigns surprise. "oh, yeah?"

you've always cooked for him, always taken care of him.

you nod. "your favorite food."

austin smiles. "let's go, then."

▃▃▃▃▃▃

it's everything. the soothing sound of the crickets, the light cool breeze, the stars in the dark sky above him, the lit cigarette between his fingers, the tiredness of the press tour, the tranquility of finally being home, it's all that makes him doze off little by little, lying on the sofa next to the pool. finally being home, with you, is the relief he so desperately needed.

he blinks in confusion when he feels you take the cigarette from his fingers and looks at you standing in front of him, with an amused look on his face as you put the cigarette out in the ashtray. you are dressed in a baby pink silk robe that barely covers part of your ass and gives him a spectacular view of your legs. not to mention the cleavage. he knows you wear those robes for him, because he buys them for you and because you know he loves to see you like this.

"i don't want to interrupt your moment of reflection, but i think you're falling asleep." you tell him with an amused look and a small crooked smile on your full lips. "why don't we go to bed?"

he looks at the hand you hold out to him and smiles slightly, before taking your hand and standing up. this time, he looks down to look into your eyes. blue. it's many things that made him fall in love with you, all of you, everything about you, but your eyes are the ones that made the first impact. big, blue, bright eyes. you are a beauty and he thanks heaven every day for finding you, but it was your eyes that took his breath away when he saw you.

you were in the same house, at the same party. you were a normal girl, but you had friends in common, and you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. there, away from everyone, shy, drinking juice instead of alcohol because you weren't old enough. you were there, sitting alone on a couch, right in his sight. he knew two things; you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to have you. so he did it.

it wasn't right away, of course; he loved you and that's why he wanted to take his time with you, to get to know you. you were 18 and he was 28. ten years apart, but neither of them minded, because you had a unique connection from yout first meeting. and that meeting was followed by many more; both felt alone, both felt accompanied and understood when you were together, both could spend hours talking and it would feel like minutes.

then came the day you became truly inseparable. the day you decided you would be one.

"and then he said to me..." he watches intently as you turn away from the window and start walking across the room. "«you know what, y/n? you gotta listen to me, sweetie, because this guy, he's got these women all over the world, okay? he's got girls dying for him»"... and then mom decides to pitch in and go: «oh what could he possibly see in you? what do you two up there all night?» and... and i just said: «mom, dad, we talk and we listen to music, okay? that's all» and then they were going on and on and on and on about that photo of you and vanessa after you broke up and..."

"and then i said really calmy «listen; he's just really lonely and, quite frankly, so am i»." austin stares at you, like a puppy in love, and notices the slight blush on your cheeks. "and then they didn't really know what to say after that, so... i went upstairs and i went to bed."

still mesmerized by your beauty and your gestures, he watches you silently approach him and sit on your calves on the carpeted floor, right next to him. his eyes meet yours and he moves a little closer to you, until his knees touch.

he stands silent for a moment, watching you with a kind of fascination. he's fascinated. by you. his eyes look at you; your eyes, your lips, your cheeks, your nose, obsorbing everything he's allowed to about you.

"i've never met anyone like you." he tells you, and he means it.

he looks at your lips when you smile. "well, i hope not."

"so..." you start, turning to look at him. "what is margaret qualley like?"

your comment and the soft, innocent tone in which you express it, makes him smile with a mixture of affection and amusement. you're a sweet, shy little thing, but you have a bold side that austin wants to know in depth.

"she's nice." he replies honestly, staring at you. "she's beautiful, really. and really talented. she's a good friend, but that's all... she's not for me, you know?" he stands up and walks over to the turntable to put on a vinyl. before dropping the needle, he looks at you. "i'm not looking to have what i had with nessa. i want... something unique. something that is forever."

he drops the needle on the vinyl and the room begins to play can't help falling in love by elvis presley. his eyes never leave yours, until he stands up to look out the window at the torrential downpour of rain outside. his eyes follow the raindrops on the window as he hears you approaching him. when you stand next to him, he closes the curtains and turns to face you.

you are close, very close, just a few centimeters apart, and he... he is in love.

you are so small compared to him.

"i think if you dream that, you'll do it." you tell him, looking up at him with those bright, innocent blue eyes.

you're only 18, but he knows you know what you want. fuck that you're too mature for your age; no. you're smart. you're aware. you're unique, and he wants you. in his bed, in his house, in his life. he wants you. to get married and to have children. he wants you.

you nod as a beautiful smile tugs at your lips; a sweet little thing. "yeah."

"you do?" he asks you softly, looking at your lips.

"go get her, then."

"what if i've already found the woman i want?"

you look at his lips and he knows it's time. he knows he doesn't have to wait any longer, he knows he can't wait any longer. you want him and he wants you. fuck everything else.

austin looks into your eyes; he swears he sees whole galaxies in them. he exhales softly and looks at your lips again. he moves closer to you as he looks at them; craving, longing, needing. he is drawn to you like a moth to the light and can't pull back, not anymore. it's you, it's you. when he finally feels your warm breath against his mouth, he closes his eyes and lets himself go.

your lips meet for the first time. your lips touch for the first time in a slow, sweet kiss and he feels a shiver run down his spine, a kind of electricity, a kind of security and desire that almost makes him laugh.

"satnin?" austin blinks and looks at you. as beautiful as the night he met you. "everything okay?"

because he knew from the moment he saw you that it was going to be you.

he takes a breath and nods. "everything is fine." he gives you a soft kiss on your forehead and takes you with him into the house.

when you get to your bedroom, on the second floor, you both go into the bathroom to get ready for bed. it's a little domestic scene, the routine you've shared since you moved in together; handing out toothbrushes and mouthwash, crossing each other's eyes in the mirror, getting ready for the night. it feels good to be doing this together again.

you're combing your hair and he's brushing his teeth when you ask; "are you sure it was a good idea for you to reveal to everyone that you have me?"

"i don't see why it wouldn't be," he replies, running the brush over his teeth.

"your manager was okay with this?" he notices the slight skepticism in your voice and stares at you through the mirror as he continues to brush his teeth.

"i respect my manager, you know, and i'm grateful to him, but i'm not going to let him control my life in any way."

something sparkles in your eyes, maybe relief, but then you lower your gaze and then look at him again, this time without that sparkle. "and what about your fans? wouldn't they prefer you to be single and available?"

he understands what you mean, so he tilts his head briefly. "i'd like to think i don't have toxic fans. and if i do, i hope they understand their place."

"oh, yes?" you blink, looking at him through the mirror. "and what place is that?"

"not next to me, for sure. that's your place."

he watches you smile and leave the comb on the marble; "very well. i like that." you move behind him to get out of the bathroom and he takes advantage of that to spank you. "watch it." you tell him, coming out of the bathroom and he smiles to himself.

he just ignores the deja vu. he's gotten pretty good at it.

when he finishes brushing his teeth, he leaves the toothbrush on the marble and exits the bathroom, finding the sight of you already lying in bed, with the lower half of your body covered by the white comforter. he absently notices you changing something on the tv set in the wall while he takes off the silk robe he is wearing, exposing his torso.

he climbs onto the bed and hovers over you like a predator over its prey. he takes the remote out of your hands, turns off the tv, leaves the remote on the nightstand and, looking at your full, taut breasts against the cleavage of your silk robe, says;

"now, i really want to fuck my wife."

austin doesn't wait for an answer from you and kisses you. he smiles softly as he feels you gasp and grabs the back of your neck to deepen the kiss further. your hands slide down his torso until they reach his back and you pull him closer to you. his darkened eyes look at you with an almost animalistic hunger as he pulls away to look at you and, as he admires your beauty, his hand on the back of your neck moves to your jaw and wraps his fingers around it. he uses his hand on your jaw to move your face at will and kisses you again with force; a mixture of lust and need as he thrusts his tongue into your mouth.

this time, he open his lips slightly, inviting you in. his tongue slowly explores your mouth, searching for yours. when he finds it, he intertwines your tongues, drawing you even closer. he slowly pulls away to see your reaction. he watches your eyes open and your cheeks flush pink. he sees your lips slightly parted, swollen from his kisses. he sees your body, small and slender, pressed against his. he swallows unconsciously, contemplating your beauty.

you're a beauty. a fucking goddess.

what were you born for, if not to be worshipped?

a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he studies your face. the sweet, adorable way your cheeks are flushed, how your eyes look even bluer against your red lips, the way your hair frames your face perfectly... he finds you absolutely stunning.

"god, you're beautiful..."

he looks at your body again. your body is like a fucking work of art. long legs that stretch to infinity, an upturned, round ass that makes his hands tremble as he squeezes it, a tiny waist that his hands could almost encompass, full breasts that make his mouth water... he growls softly.

slowly, he begins to pull the robe off your shoulders. his fingers graze your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. he pulls it down your arms, his knuckles accidentally grazing your breasts, causing your nipples to harden. he removes the robe completely, leaving you completely naked before him.

"fuck, babe... you're perfect."

he revels in the sight of your naked body. his eyes roam over your breasts with hard pink nipples, your flat belly, your wide, fertile hips, your long, slender legs and the most perfect pink center he's ever seen.

his breathing is heavier now, his eyes darkening with desire. he reaches out both hands, sliding them slowly down your stomach to cup both breasts gently, his thumbs caressing those hard nipples.

"do you know how beautiful you are like this?"

he leans closer, his thumbs still circling your nipples, making them even harder. he watches your reaction, sees your breath hitch and your chest rise and fall faster. he can't help but let out a low moan.

"a fucking goddess..."

he leans in, unable to resist any longer, and takes one of your hard nipples into his mouth. he sucks gently at first, then harder, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. he hears you moan softly beneath him. his hands continue to massage your breasts together, creating a deep cleavage that he can't help but admire.

he releases your nipple from his mouth with a pop, looking down at you with a naughty grin. then he does the same with the other nipple, sucking, licking and biting gently, aware of how your arousal is growing by the way you squirm a little under him. his hands continue to knead your breasts, his fingers digging into your soft flesh.

after giving your other nipple the same treatment, he straightens up, looking down at your chest with a satisfied smile. your breasts are red and swollen, covered in his saliva, and your nipples are rock hard and sensitive. he runs his fingers through the wetness on your chest, spreading it all over.

austin leans back slightly, admiring the erotic image he has created: your breasts glistening with his saliva, your nipples erect and begging for attention. he spreads the wetness further with deliberate movements, circling each nipple with his fingertips, sending little shivers of pleasure through you.

"aus..." you whisper.

"i know, baby, i know." he soothes you softly, moving slowly to deposit soft, slow kisses on your chest, moving down to your stomach, your belly, and finally your sex. he looks up at you, seeking consent, and when you return his gaze and spread your legs, he smiles slightly, pulling his gaze away from yours to focus on your center.

his mouth waters as he uses his hands to open your pink folds wider and sees that there is already moisture coming out of your hole. he exhales and almost grunts, before swallowing saliva and reaching up to run his tongue over your opening, collecting your wetness on his tongue as he hears you moan softly. from the sensation, your back arches and your hips buck, so he puts your legs over his shoulders to hold you closer. he brings one hand up to caress your ass gently, before slapping you, causing your hips to arch against him.

"stay still." he orders you softly, and you relax on the mattress.

he begins to caress your clit with his tongue, circling and rubbing it gently, before sliding it lower to taste you more deeply. he moans softly against your pussy and knows the vibrations send shivers down your spine. his tongue continues to explore your delicate folds, licking your wetness as he periodically returns to caress your clit. his hands grip your thighs firmly, holding the position.

his tongue re-enters your shaft, lapping up your juices, but instead of flicking his tongue at your opening, he slides it back down to your clit, sucking on it. his tongue circles your pearl and then his mouth sucks, drawing a moan from you as more moisture drips from your hole. his tongue moves across your clit and uses his teeth to scrape a little, making you squirm. after a few seconds, he decides to rest your clit and slips his tongue inside your shaft, tasting your juices.

he fucks you with his tongue, his nose digging into your clit, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as they rest on his shoulders. he delights in the sounds you make; gasps, whimpers and beautiful soft moans as he eats you out. he feels your body shudder beneath him as he sucks on your clit. his tongue circles your pearl, rolling it between his teeth. he feels your pussy throb as he licks your lips, giving you only a brief rest before returning to your clit, sucking it hard and licking it mercilessly.

austin knows you're approaching orgasm, knows your body even better than you know yourself, so when he sees you're on the verge of orgasm, he adjusts his body, pulling his face away as he hovers over you, bringing one hand to your convulsing pussy and plunging two fingers deep, both at the same time.

he watches you close your eyes tightly as you let out a gasp, squeezing his fingers tightly as he pumps them in and out of you. you open your mouth to say something, but you interrupt yourself as he slips a third finger in, rubbing that spot inside you with each thrust of his fingers. you open your mouth as you arch your back, but you don't make a sound. he feels your pussy throbbing and knows you're approaching orgasm again.

your hands clench into fists on the sheets and, for a moment, austin is mesmerized by the sight of you; back arched, eyes closed, mouth open for air, nipples hard, white skin now covered in a light layer of sweat. a fucking work of art. it feels like time stands still for a moment as he admires the beauty he has in his bed.

he comes back to reality a moment later and continues pumping his fingers in and out of you without stopping; he keeps up a fast, relentless pace without giving you a break. you cum without warning, shuddering and letting out a soft, but long, moan. austin watches you in fascination, watching you cum; hard, shuddering and clenching his fingers inside you. but he doesn't stop; he continues pumping his fingers in and out of you.

"aus..." you gasp, shuddering, trying to pull away from the sensation.

"stop moving."

but you keep trying to pull back. "t-too much..."

"stay fucking still." he says gruffly and revels in the moan you let out from the impact of his palm against your dripping pussy.

"sorry..."

he pulls his fingers out of your pussy and, as if you were a rag doll, flips you over on the mattress so you're on all fours. you stick your hands out, sinking your chest into the mattress and resting your cheek on the soft material while your trembling legs stay bent so your ass is exposed for him. austin licks his lips; you're always eager to please him. his sweet girl.

"good girl." he compliments you, knowing how much you like it, before spanking you, making you shudder. "what a beautiful ass, all for me..." he gives you another spank, then another and another, the spanks echoing around the room until the skin on your ass is red and you're shivering and moaning. his hands caress your bruised ass, rubbing the reddened skin. "do you like this, babe?" when you hum in the middle of a moan, he smiles. "sure yo do. such a good slut."

he pauses his relentless spanking, admiring the deep crimson hue he has created on your tender skin and squeezes your buttocks, feeling the soft, warm flesh between his fingers. he loves your ass, loves how soft it is, loves it when it jiggles from his spanking, loves it when it bounces when he fucks you, loves seeing it reddened and with marks from his hands. he loves seeing it and knowing he did that.

he pumps his fingers in and out, making you tremble, but you don't resist, you just stand there, welcoming him, your face pressed against the sheets and your ass in the air. he watches your trembling legs, refusing to give in, determined to take him. brave. you've always been so brave. his free hand squeezes your ass while the other speeds up his movements, moving in and out faster. you squeal, clutching the sheets in fists.

"that's it..." austin whispers, watching with satisfaction as you shudder while he fucks you with his fingers, pulling them in and out faster and faster, making you squeal.

you cum again, but that doesn't stop him; it only drives him to keep moving his fingers. your legs shake violently as the room fills with splashing noises, sobs escape your throat as you keep your head down against the soft mattress.

he uses his free hand to smack your already reddened and bruised ass hard. the loud spank echoes throughout the room and you gasp from the impact. your legs almost give way, but he gives you another spank; a warning. you squeal and whimper, but stay as you are as austin fucks your pussy with his fingers. he delights in the beautiful sounds coming from your lips; gasps, moans, little sobs and squeals. despite the overstimulation, you make no attempt to move or pull away; you and your incessant need to please him prevent you from doing so and that only makes him harder.

his hand movements don't stop; his fingers move in and out of you; the wet splashing, the sounds coming out of your mouth and the spanking he gives you are all you hear in the room as he drives you to another orgasm. he rips two more orgasms out of you, turning your moans into screams and your squeals into cries, and when he finally withdraws his fingers, there's a wet mess between your thighs and you can barely breathe.

he uses his hands to spread your buttocks further apart, exposing more of your two holes for him. "look at this..." he murmurs, looking at your wet pussy, throbbing and pinker from the attention of his fingers. "you're a beauty. no wonder i fell in love with you."

he watches as a drop of cum clings to your pussy lips and stretches, feeding on your young, aroused body, until the clear, sticky semen almost brushes the surface of the bed beneath you. the sight almost mesmerizes him, but he leans down to begin eating you. the sudden sensation of his tongue against your sensitive, throbbing pussy makes you arch your back and let out a squeal. austin doesn't stop; he eats your pussy, licks your folds, your hole and your clitoris. he withdraws only when your pussy is already clean.

your gasping breath brings him back to reality and he looks at you; chest rising and falling heavily, hands clenching the sheets into fists, legs trembling, face buried in the sheets. his hands gently caress your bruised bottom, before moving to your thighs and gently moving you so that you are lying on your back. your teary eyes look up at him as he lovingly kisses your trembling thighs. his kisses move up your abdomen, the skin between your breasts, your chest, your neck, your jaw and finally your lips.

you kiss him back immediately, tasting yourself in his mouth. his hand grips your jaw to keep you the way he wants you and his tongue explores your mouth with an animalistic hunger, but at the same time with a tenderness that softens the kiss. he pulls away, then gives you another kiss. he pulls away again, and kisses you again. you return each kiss with your red, bitten lips.

"beautiful girl." he gives you a kiss on your nose that makes you smile, still looking up at him with those teary, beautiful eyes of yours. "you did great, love, i'm so proud. now i'm going to fuck you, okay? spread your legs, baby."

despite how sensitive your pussy is, you obediently spread your trembling legs. he sheds what little clothing he has left and positions himself at your entrance. he watches you as he slides inside you. your tight, wet heat makes him exhale and he watches as you close your eyes. he clenches his jaw and takes a second, feeling you squeeze him like a screw.

soft, wet, tight, hot, so tight, so delicious, so soft and spongy, all the way down his cock. it feels dazzlingly good. your pussy presses against his testicles. it felt so good that he doesn't know what to do but cling to your legs so he can stay buried in you and gasp.

"fuck..." he exhales, closing his eyes for a moment. you're so tight. "you're so tight..." he leans in a little to kiss you on the forehead. "you have no idea how much i missed you, baby..."

he stands still for a moment, giving you time to get used to his size. listening to you moan, he realizes how dilated and full you are, how full you are. after a few seconds, he begins to penetrate you, and you are soaking wet, very soaking wet. the tip of his cock, buried deep inside you, throbs.

he moves one hand to your breast, cupping one of your breasts between his fingers, squeezing and playing with your nipple. then he penetrates you, slowly. he withdraws and re-enters. all that tightness, up and down, all that fat on his aching cock.

"ah!... ah!..." you take him so well. your hands grab him by the arms and you cling to him desperately. your legs no longer try to close around him. now you are detached, open, wide open.

"so good for me..." and he penetrates you again, harder.

"ah!"

"such a good girl..." another, even harder.

"AH!"

"come on, don't be a brat now." he slaps your face, which makes you gasp, surprised, and he takes advantage of that to close his hand around your throat. your mouth is open, gasping and he spits noisily into your mouth. "you know you can take me, you're made for this."

his thrusts are shallow, but strong, to keep you full and fuck you mercilessly. you moan with each one, loud and desperate, moaning, and so, so good. he feels every sound all over your body, coming straight to his cock.

"fuck." austin snorts stiffly, flexing his hips against yours, tightening his hand around your throat "love this tight fucking cunt."

he increases the speed, increasing your sounds at the same time. he penetrates you mercilessly; his hand lingers on your neck and the other pinches and pulls on one of your nipples. the sight is exquisite; your hair spread around your head, your face flushed, your lips half-open, your hands clutching the sheets in fists, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, your abdomen tense as he watches his cock protrude. his hand travels there; he places his hand on your abdomen, feeling the bulge of his cock moving inside of you.

he grunts, strengthening his grip on your neck to cut off your air a little. without stopping fucking you, his gaze travels to where your bodies meet; his cock slips in and out, your pink, sensitive pussy clinging to his great length, as if he doesn't want to let go. there's a mess full of wetness and cum in your pussy, but that only excites him more and he presses you against the mattress before slamming back down on you.

you scream and he kisses you, muffling your sounds. he kisses you hungrily, kind of possessive and domineering, almost animalistic, all the while continuing to fuck you relentlessly. his cock is rock hard, he fucks you brutally, almost like some kind of wild beast. he breaks the kiss, kisses you on the forehead, and rejoins you. his hands pull your legs towards you.

"hold your legs up, baby. come on, i know you can." he encourages you. your hands let go of the sheets and you grab your thighs, holding yourself open for him. "that's it, that's it, such a good girl... stay open, babe, you're perfect for this..." his words make you smile breathlessly and he smiles back. "christ, you're so beautiful, so perfect... how did i get so lucky... look at that..." he marvels, sounding utterly adoring at the way his glistening length slips in and out of you with ease, your painfully stretched little hole fluttering desperately with every crawling inch of it.

he reaches down a little to grab your breasts, using your nipples as handholds as he rams you again and again at a brutal pace.

"oh, god..." you moan as he fills you completely, his thick member stretching your inner walls. you have your legs pinned back, leaving you completely exposed. he leans forward, his muscular chest pressing against your sensitive nipples.

as he thrusts hard into you, you cry out and he kisses your lips, between hard kisses, more and more intense than his usual soft, deep kisses, becoming a brutal demand on your mouth as he penetrates you relentlessly.

he grunts with each powerful lunge, in a low, prim voice. "you're a slut for my cock, aren't you? look at you; taking it like a bitch in heat." he rams you harder, the sound of flesh against flesh and wet splashing echoes throughout the room.

for a moment, he stares at your pussy. he watches the spot where his cock disappears into you again and again, how your fleshy lips have to stretch to accommodate it. how flushed you are there, how pink your thighs have become as he rams you over and over again.

"you're fucking perfect..." he groans, and your open mouth turns into a wide grin, your sounds more panting, happier. "i'll make you my wife, i swear to god."

your eyes slam shut and he sees tears running down the sides of your flushed face.

he makes his lunges shallower so he can move even faster, so the underside of your clit drags against his cock, making you moan.

"d-don't stop..." he hears you gasp, and he wonders where you are, teetering on the razor's edge between pleasure and pain.

anyway, he knows you like pain. he knows you like it to hurt. for that and more, he doesn't plan to stop anytime soon.

he stops for a moment. "oh, don't worry, honey, i won't."

with that said, he resumes his movements, slamming into you. he fucks you with hard, fast lunges as he watches with a tense expression of desire as you arch and moan with each of his movements. his cock begins to repeatedly hit that spot that makes you see stars and he exerts a tight grip on your neck, cutting you off a little as you cum hard.

he fucks you through your orgasm, watching your mouth open, your eyes closed and your breasts bouncing. your body trembles and spasms, your hands move to clutch the sheets in fists and you try to close your legs, but he releases your neck to keep your legs apart and keeps on ramming. his thrusts become more aggressive, your body arches, trembles and you squeeze your eyes shut.

hypersensitive from your orgasm, his aggressiveness makes you moan out loud, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. he doesn't stop, taking exactly what he wants from you. you hold your eyes tightly shut in pleasure bordering on pain, unable to control your screams until your voice echoes throughout the room, maybe the whole house. austin covers your mouth with his hand.

"take it." he commands between his teeth against your ear.

you cry out in pleasure against his palm, your body trembling uncontrollably from the overstimulation. austin doesn't let you, he continues to penetrate your sensitive pussy. tears stream down your face, a mixture of pain and overwhelming pleasure.

suddenly, he pulls out, leaving you breathless and empty. before you can recover, he flips you onto your stomach and lifts your hips, raising your ass. he penetrates you from behind, his hands gripping your red, spanked buttocks hard as he begins to penetrate you again.

"fuck, look at that ass..." he spanks you hard on your right cheek, leaving a handprint net on your already red ass. "you love it when i fuck you like a cheap whore, don't you?"

you don't respond, but your moans and cries are answer enough. you thrust your hips into him, encouraging him to treat you roughly.

he leans down, covering you with his body as he continues to ram you from behind. "what would people say, huh?" he growls in your ear, biting your lobe gently. "what would they say if they knew that sweet, innocent priscilla from austin likes to be treated like a whore in bed?"

he spits on your back, the saliva sliding down your spine as he continues to pound into you mercilessly. you cry out, your body trembles with each brutal onslaught.

it's not long before you're cumming on his cock again, moaning and shuddering. with a grunt, he sinks balls-deep inside you, disappearing completely into your pussy. his hips contract, unloading an enormous amount of cum inside you. your body shudders violently, completely overwhelmed by the immense amount of his essence and the hypersensitivity of your own orgasm.

he collapses on top of you, his face buried in your neck as he catches his breath. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as his softening cock remains inside you, keeping his cum trapped inside your pussy.

"i swear to god, if we were already married, i wouldn't let you take that damn pill..." he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. you let out a breathless, gasping giggle, and he smiles against your neck. "are you okay, baby?"

you hum tiredly, but happily, and he squeezes you tight in his embrace. he gives you another kiss on the head, then another on your neck, and finally pulls back to see the mess between your thighs, making you whimper. your thighs are wet and pink, and his cum drips slowly from your well-worn pussy.

"come here, babe..." he says softly, almost cooing to you, as he gently turns you over so that you're lying face down, looking up at him with those cloudy, sated eyes. he leans down to gently kiss your forehead. "i'm going to clean you up quickly, princess. give me one more minute and we can sleep, yes?" he winks playfully at you and heads for the bathroom.

he returns a few minutes later with a warm, damp washcloth. He gently cleans up the mess between your thighs, being extra careful not to hurt your sensitive pussy. once he's finished, he throws the cloth aside and crawls back into bed with you, pulling you into his arms.

"you did very well." he cooed, hugging you, holding you. his hand moves to gently stroke your hair. "you were a very good girl, very brave i'm so proud of you."

his words and his caresses on your hair seem to melt you, because you cuddle closer to him, almost like a koala, and bury your face in his chest, snuggling against him, seeking his warmth and security.

"thank you..." he hears you murmur against his chest.

he smiles softly, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your back. "why, baby?"

"thank you for loving me."

his heart melts with those words and he pulls you even tighter against him, wrapping his strong arms possessively around you. "thank you for letting me love you." he whispers, his voice charged with emotion. he strokes your hair with his face, inhaling your sweet scent. coconut.

after months, austin sleeps contentedly and peacefully, with you in his arms.

he is finally home.

[butlervibesonly]

𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 | Wil Ohmsford

• Summary: Wil keeps his promises. Of course he does. He would do anything to make you happy.

• Pairing: Wil Ohmsford x fem! reader

• Warnings: fluff!

• Proofreader: my queen @eternal-love 🧸

• Note: I had to write another fic for my sweet boy! You can read it alone or read it as continuing of “Healing Hearts” that you can find in my MASTERLIST! ❤️‍🩹

The sun starts to rise. The early morning’s light shining in through the windows. Wil’s eyes open as the rising light hits his face. He looks down at you, still sound asleep in his arms. He smiles and leans his head down to press a kiss on your forehead. He breathes in your scent before closing his eyes again.

He chuckles softly, and then lays there for a few moments more, just appreciating you, your warmth and softness of your skin against his. Slowly, and reluctantly, he lifts his arm from around you and sits up in the bed. He picks up his hand and brushes the hair off your face, taking in your features.

Wil sits on the edge of the bed, quiet, careful not to wake you. Your breath is soft, steady, face relaxed in sleep. His mind drifts back to yesterday— the way your eyes lit up as he led you through the garden, the way you reached out to touch the leaves, the vines, like you have never seen anything so full of life before. He remembers how you smiled at the strawberry plants, how you listened as he told her about their sweetness, their warmth, their patience. He had promised you a strawberry pie then, half-joking, but when you looked at him with quiet anticipation, he knew he meant it.

Wil exhales softly, his gaze flickering to you once more. You’re still asleep, safe, here. The thought settles something deep inside him, something he doesn’t have words for. He stands slowly, careful not to let the bed creak under his weight. His bare feet touch the cool floor as he moves toward the door, casting one last glance over his shoulder before slipping out into the quiet of the morning.

The morning summer air is fresh when he steps outside, carrying the scent of damp earth. The world is hushed, save for the distant rustling of trees and the occasional birdsong. He makes his way toward the garden, the path familiar beneath his feet. When he reaches the strawberry plants, he kneels, running his fingers over the leaves before carefully picking the ripest, reddest ones.

He can already picture your face when you see the pie, can already imagine your voice, soft with wonder. And for the first time in a long time, he feels it. The simple, quiet joy of doing something not just for himself, but for you. Slowly, the basket starts to fill up. He keeps moving from bush to bush, picking the sweetest, juiciest strawberries. A soft huff of breath behind him makes him pause. He doesn’t need to turn to know who it is. A faint smile tugs at his lips as he glances over his shoulder.

“You’re up early, girl." His horse, a sleek mare with a deep chestnut coat, steps closer, her large dark eyes watching him with quiet curiosity. She nudges his shoulder, insistent but gentle, her warm breath stirring his hair. “What?” he chuckles, ruffling her mane. Wil reaches up to scratch behind her ear. The horse nudges him again.

“You want some strawberries, don’t you? Sorry these strawberries aren’t for you, girl. They’re for someone else….” he smiles, as his horse snorts, nudging him again. Wil laughs softly, shaking his head, but then, when she does it a third time, lingering, her nose pressed against his shoulder, something about it makes him pause. It’s almost like she knows.

His fingers tighten slightly around the basket as the realization settles in. He had not only promised the pie, but also something more. "The roses," he murmurs, almost to himself. His horse exhales, flicking her ears, as if in agreement. Wil sits back on his heels, exhaling through his nose. "You remember, huh?" Wil glances toward the open stretch of land beyond the vegetable garden, the space where he had told himself, told you, that one day, he’d plant roses. For you. Because you have never had a garden of your own. Because you deserve something beautiful.

His mare nudges his cheek this time, and he huffs out a soft laugh, reaching up to stroke her muzzle. "Alright, alright. First the pie, then the roses. I hear you." Satisfied the horse steps back, swishing her tail as if to say, Good. Wil picks up the basket of strawberries that’s now full, and starts walking back over the hut. When he gets inside, he sees you still asleep in bed. He smiles at your sleeping form. He puts the basket down on the table, and moves back around the bed. He leans down and brushes the hair off your face.

He leans down a little more to press a soft kiss on your forehead. Wil keeps watching you as you slumber on, and then stands back up. He walks back into the kitchen of the hut. He finds the ingredients and sets about making the pie. Wil starts taking the ingredients out and lining them up on the counter. Wil places butter into a bowl and takes out the flour, sugar, measuring the right amount and dumping it into the bowl. He pulls out a sheet of wax paper and lays it out on the counter. He dumps the butter flour mixture out onto the wax paper and starts rolling it into a little square.

Wil watches the sun start to rise more outside the window, bringing in a warm glow. He turns back to the task before him, rolling the dough out. He carefully picks it up off the counter and holds it up. He carefully lowers the dough into the pie tin and pushes the edges into the tin so it fits. He washes up and starts peeling the strawberries, cutting up a few to place into the pie. He takes a spoon and tastes a bit of the berries.

They are as sweet as you. “Perfect…” he smiles, and then starts loading the pie with the strawberries. He takes the pie and places it into the oven. He sits down at the table, and waits for the pie to finish baking. After few minutes the pie is baked perfectly, so he takes the pie from the oven and let it cool down. Then he needs to fulfill another task… the roses.

When he comes back to the hut from planting, Wil takes a whiff of the pie, smiling at how well it came out. “Smells great…” he compliments himself with a smile. He looks at your sleeping form. He walks over and sits onto the bed next to you. He places a hand on your shoulder, and lightly shakes you. “Wake up, sweet girl…”

You begin to stir, waking up. Wil smiles and shakes you a little again. “Wake up, my sleeping beauty…” When you open your eyes, you smile widely, happy to see him. “Hi!” you chuckle. Wil kisses you sweetly before pulling away to look at you. “Slept well?”

You nod and hum in confirmation. He smiles, his hands pushing the hair off your face. “That’s good,” he says quietly. “There’s something I wanted to show you.” Wil reaches out and takes your hand. “Really?” you smile, intertwining your fingers with his. He pulls the door open, eyes looking out. The sun now completely risen, as he leads you outside. “Okay… close your eyes…” You smile with nod and close your eyes.

Wil stands next to you, still holding your hand. He leads you forward from the porch. “Follow me.”Wil walks you across the grass. His other hand reaches out and he brushes it against your hair. He’s making sure you don’t bump into anything as you walk through his garden. The sun is shining warmly when the two of you finally stop. “Almost there… Open your eyes.” His hand goes to the side of your head, and he turns your head so you’re facing the roses.

As you open yours eyes you see a garden of beautiful roses. All different colors. A dozen of them, fully in bloom, with a wooden sign that says; Forever yours garden. You let out a soft gasp, your lips parting in awe, eyes shining in love and affection. “Oh… Wil!” you breathe out softly. Wil looks over at you, seeing your sparkling eyes as you look at the roses. He smiles, “I take it you like them?”

“I love them, Wil! It’s exactly as you promised!” you jump into his arms happily. “Thank you!! Thank you!!” Wil catches you, picking you up. His arms wrap around you. “Anything to make you happy, my angel.” he smiles, burying his head into your shoulder. Wil carries you over to a bench in the corner of the garden. The roses are in full bloom, colors bright and beautiful. He sits down onto the bench and places you on his lap.

He’s scanning your face as he looks at you, a small smile on his face. “The reason I planted the roses, it’s not only because I promised. I planted them for a reason. And that’s because,” he lets out a soft breath. “Because I never want you to be without flowers… I want you to always be surrounded with something so beautiful. Something that reflects off your beauty…”

Your gaze softens as you look into his bright blue eyes. “Aw, Wil…” He reaches out and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “The first time I saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful girl that I’d ever seen…. Every moment I’ve spent with you, I’ve been reminded of your beauty over and over again, Y/n.” His eyes roam your face. “And I needed to give you something.. So that on the days you doubt your beauty… maybe this reminds you of how beautiful you are to me…”

You smile widely, eyes filling with tears of joy. Wil’s other hand reaches and cups your cheek. His thumbs stroke over it. His eyes move over your face, taking in every feature… The shape of your nose… the way your lips are pressed together in a smile. You smile even more and then press a kiss on his lips. Short but sweet enough to make his heart flutter with love.

After a while you stand up and walk to the roses. You crouch down to smell each one, with wide smile. Wil can’t take his eyes off of you. Watching you pick your favorite one, or the ones you like best. The different expressions on your face, the way your hands take the roses and hold them up. “You were made for roses…” he says quietly and smiles.

Wil sits and watches you walk amongst the roses. Your hands going from flower to flower… smelling them… running your fingers over the petals. His lips press together, his smile never leaving his face. He watches you, thinking about how lucky he is.

After a while you approach him and tuck one tiny rose behind his ear. He smiles widely, pressing you closer to him. “C’mere…” he whispers, wrapping his arms around you. “I love you, you know?” he looks down at you and presses a kiss to your nose, then cheek, corner of your eye. “I love you too, Wil…” you smile and press your head into his chest.

You two stay like this for a while before he speaks. “I, uh…” He shifts slightly on his feet, suddenly remembering. “I made you something.” You tilt your head, curious. “The pie.” His lips tug into a small smile. “I told you I would.” Your breath catches for a moment, as if you have forgotten, as if you never expected Wil to do it really. But he had. Because he meant it. Because you matter. Taking your hand gently, he nods toward the hut. "Come on. It’s waiting for you."

[movingmusically]

What Are Friends For? - Chapter 8

Word Count: 3.4k

Masterlist

I was aware of it immediately.

The change. The subtle but undeniable shift in our messages.

It wasn’t anything obvious. Nothing outright. But something was different.

Maybe it was the fact that I was checking my phone more often. Or the way my stomach did a stupid little thing whenever I saw his name light up my screen. Or the way our messages stretched longer—little back-and-forths that didn’t feel necessary, but neither of us seemed inclined to stop.

Austin: Hope you went with the pizza.

Me: Obviously. I’m not a monster.

Austin: Good. I was worried for a second.

Me: Can’t have you losing sleep over my dietary choices.

Austin: Too late. Been up all night, pacing.

Me: Tragic.

Austin: Truly.

It was nothing. It was nothing.

And yet.

By Wednesday, the shift had settled in like it had always been there.

It wasn’t just the messages anymore—it was how we texted. The gaps between replies had shrunk. The teasing was just a little sharper, the conversations stretching just a little longer. And somewhere between talking about work, making fun of Callum, and debating the moral implications of pineapple on pizza (wrong, obviously), I stopped pretending this wasn’t something.

Not something big. Not something I needed to do anything about.

But something.

And then, on Wednesday evening, right as I was getting home from work—

Austin: So when are you going to let me prove I’m better at pottery than you?

I blinked down at my screen.

It took me a second to remember what he was talking about—the conversation over brunch, when he’d mentioned the class and I’d said something cocky about how I’d probably be a natural.

I hesitated, my stomach giving an annoying little twist.

Me: Bold of you to assume I’d let you win.

Austin: Bold of you to assume you’d have a choice.

I snorted, shaking my head.

Me: When do you even have time for pottery?

Austin: Sundays.

Right. The only day they had off. The only day he wasn’t stuck up near Oxford in his little 1940s war bubble.

I hesitated.

Not because I didn’t want to go.

But because of what it was.

It wasn’t just grabbing a coffee or texting or hanging out at a party with other people around.

This was—

I swallowed.

Austin: You free this Sunday?

I was.

I also knew I could come up with an excuse if I wanted to. Something easy, something believable.

But I didn’t.

Me: Yeah.

Austin: Good. I’ll book it.

I hesitated for half a second too long.

Then—

Me: Just so we’re clear, I’m going to absolutely humiliate you.

Austin: Looking forward to it.

And just like that, I had plans.

Plans with Austin.

Plans that felt…

I ignored the thought before it could finish forming.

Thursday evening, Zara and I got dinner after work.

We’d fallen into an easy routine of grabbing food together every couple of weeks, usually after particularly exhausting days. Today was one of those days, and by the time we collapsed into a booth at our usual spot, I was already halfway through my first glass of wine.

Zara raised an eyebrow. “That kind of week?”

“You have no idea.” I sighed, swirling my glass. “Play rehearsals are almost over, and I want to throw myself out the nearest window. Half of them still don’t know their lines, one kid cried because he thinks the donkey role is ‘too embarrassing,’ and the twins playing the narrators got into a fistfight over who gets to stand in the middle.”

Zara winced. “Sounds promising.”

“Oh, it’s a masterpiece in the making,” I said dryly. “I’m thinking of just quitting and living in the woods.”

“Fair,” Zara said. Then, with a sly look, “Although, someone would miss you.”

I frowned. “What?”

She smirked. “I assume Austin would.”

My stomach dipped. “I—what? No.”

“Oh, come on,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve been glued to your phone all week. I assumed it wasn’t just a particularly riveting work email.”

I scowled. “I hate that you notice things.”

“It’s my greatest skill.” She leaned in, chin resting on her hand. “So? What’s going on?”

I hesitated.

Because nothing was going on. Not really.

But…

I shifted in my seat. “We’ve just been texting.”

Zara made an unimpressed noise. “Define just.”

I pursed my lips. “It’s just—small stuff. Banter. Nothing serious.”

She arched an eyebrow.

I sighed. “Okay, fine. It’s been a lot.”

Zara grinned. “I knew it.”

I shook my head, stabbing a chip with unnecessary force. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“It doesn’t,” I insisted. “We’re just—”

Her eyes sparkled. “Go on.”

“He just—he doesn’t know a lot of people in London.”

Zara’s eyebrows lifted.

I ignored her and kept talking. “And he does this pottery class on Sundays, and he mentioned it before, and we were joking about it, and then he asked if I wanted to go.”

Zara’s lips curved. “And you said yes.”

I shoved another chip in my mouth. “It’s casual.”

Zara let out an amused breath, shaking her head. “Ange.”

“What?” I said defensively.

“You’re going to a pottery class together.”

I gave her a flat look. “So?”

She tilted her head. “So it’s a date.”

I let out an exasperated groan. “Jesus Christ.”

Zara just grinned.

I threw a chip at her. “It’s not a date.”

“Mmm.”

“It’s not.”

“Sure.”

I hesitated for a fraction too long.

And Zara, of course, pounced.

“Oh my God.” She grinned. “You like him.”

I let out an exasperated groan. “You’re worse than Callum.”

She smirked. “And you’re in denial.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Is it?”

“Yes,” I said, because it was. “He’s leaving when filming’s over. This whole thing—whatever it is—it’s temporary. I know that.”

Zara tilted her head. “And yet.”

I shot her a look. “And yet nothing.”

She smirked.

I sighed, slumping back in my seat. “I know nothing will happen. I know that. I just…” I ran a hand through my hair, voice dropping slightly. “I just don’t want to be stupid about it.”

Zara softened.

After a beat, she said, “What if it’s not stupid?”

I exhaled, staring down at my drink. “I don’t know.”

But wasn’t that the problem?

I knew I liked talking to him.

I knew I liked being around him.

And I knew that the longer this went on, the more dangerous it felt.

Zara didn’t push. Just watched me, waiting.

Then, after a beat—

“Come on, though. Are you excited?”

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Fiddled with my glass.

Zara smiled knowingly.

“Shut up,” I muttered, but I was smiling, too.

The days leading up to Sunday felt slow and fast all at once. I kept myself busy—work, errands, anything to stop my brain from running in circles. But no matter what I did, there was always this quiet hum in the back of my mind. The anticipation of Sunday. Of seeing him.

It was ridiculous, I told myself. It wasn’t a date. It was just pottery. Casual. Friendly. Not a big deal.

And yet, by the time Sunday morning rolled around, I found myself standing in front of my wardrobe longer than necessary, second-guessing everything. Trainers or boots? Hair up or down? Did it even matter?

In the end, I went for my usual—black jeans, a denim jacket, and my grey trainers. Comfortable, easy, not trying too hard. That was the vibe I was going for, anyway.

The walk to the pottery studio was peaceful, the spring air warm enough to make me shrug off my jacket halfway there. The streets were quieter than usual, the soft hum of the city waking up around me. By the time I arrived, I’d managed to convince myself—for the fifth time—that this wasn’t anything to be nervous about.

Austin was already there, leaning against the wall outside the studio, his long legs crossed at the ankles and his phone in his hand. He was wearing a light blue button-up with the sleeves rolled up and dark jeans, and the sunlight caught on his hair in a way that felt annoyingly cinematic.

My stomach flipped before I could stop it. What was wrong with me? This wasn’t a date. It wasn’t. But the easy smile that spread across his face when he looked up at me made it very hard to remember that.

“Hey,” he said, sliding his phone into his pocket.

“Hey,” I replied, trying to keep my voice casual.

He held the door open for me, and we stepped into the studio together. The space was warm and inviting, with big windows letting in the sunlight and shelves lined with half-finished clay pieces. The air smelled faintly earthy, like damp stone and wet clay.

The instructor welcomed us and handed out aprons, which I immediately struggled to tie. The strings were longer than expected, and I fumbled with them, muttering under my breath.

“Need help?” Austin asked, already tying his own with ease.

“No,” I said quickly, finally managing to secure it. “I’ve got it.”

He smirked, clearly unconvinced, but said nothing.

Once we were set up at our wheels, the instructor gave us a quick demonstration. Austin took to it immediately, his hands shaping the wet clay with a confidence that made me wonder if he was showing off. I, on the other hand, struggled to keep the lump of clay from wobbling off centre. My hands were covered in the stuff within minutes, and my first attempt at a bowl collapsed into what could only be described as an unfortunate pancake.

“You’re supposed to make it look difficult,” I muttered, shooting him a glare.

He glanced over, lips twitching as he fought back a laugh. “You’re supposed to keep it on the wheel.”

“Oh, is that how this works? Thank you, sensei.” I swiped a bit of clay from my apron and flicked it in his direction. It landed on his arm, and his mock expression of betrayal nearly had me doubled over laughing.

As the hour went on, I started to get the hang of it. The feel of the clay beneath my fingers, the steady hum of the wheel—it was oddly soothing. I glanced at Austin’s station and immediately regretted it. His hands moved confidently, shaping the clay into something smooth and symmetrical.

I tried not to stare. Tried not to notice the way his long fingers curled around the clay, strong but precise, guiding it into place like it was the easiest thing in the world. There was something oddly hypnotic about it, and for a brief, mortifying moment, I wondered what it would feel like to have that same focus turned toward me. The thought sent a rush of heat to my cheeks, and I quickly looked back at my own wheel, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

My second attempt ended up looking like something a five-year-old might bring home from school.

I groaned, glaring at it. “This is rigged.”

Austin chuckled. “It’s clay, not a conspiracy.”

“Easy for you to say, Mr Perfect Bowl,” I shot back, eyeing his work. “You’ve clearly done this before.”

“Maybe once or twice,” he admitted, that infuriating smirk still in place.

By the time we finished, I was covered in clay, and had created something vaguely resembling a bowl—albeit a very abstract bowl. Austin’s bowl, of course, was perfect. He carried it to the drying shelves like it was a trophy, and when I set mine down beside it, he shot me a teasing grin.

“You know,” he said, “it has… character.”

I bumped his shoulder with mine as we turned back to our seats, catching the faintest laugh as he steadied himself.

After the class, we stepped outside into the warm spring air, our aprons replaced with our jackets, though Austin slung his over one arm. We wandered into the nearby park without really discussing it, the path lined with blooming flowers in every colour imaginable.

Austin slowed as we passed a row of roses, leaning down to smell one of the bright red blooms.

I watched him as he leaned closer, his expression shifting to something softer, almost thoughtful. It was a side of him I hadn’t seen much of—quiet, unguarded, as if the rest of the world had melted away for a moment. There was something almost poetic about the way he moved from flower to flower, pausing just long enough to notice the details.

“This one,” he said, motioning to a pale pink rose. “It smells like perfume. Stronger than the others.”

I stepped closer, curious, as he tilted the flower toward me. “Really?”

“Try it,” he said, his voice low and inviting.

I leaned in, my nose brushing against the petals as I inhaled. The scent was sweet, heady, and rich, like something you’d find bottled on a vanity.

“You’re right,” I murmured. “It’s lovely.”

I pulled back, catching his gaze as he watched me, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

I laughed softly, breaking the tension. “Do you always smell the roses?”

He straightened, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Sometimes. Doesn’t hurt to stop and notice things.”

I nodded, glancing back at the roses. Before I could respond, he tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing.

“You’ve got—” He gestured vaguely at my head. “Clay. In your hair.”

I froze. “Oh, great,” I muttered, reaching up to find it.

“Here,” he said, stepping closer. “Let me.”

I stilled as he raised his hand, his fingers brushing against my hair as he carefully picked out the tiny bit of dried clay. The warmth of his touch lingered longer than it should have.

“Got it,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“Thanks,” I said, my own voice oddly soft.

He didn’t step back right away. His gaze flicked to my cheek.

“Hang on,” he said, reaching out again. “You’ve got some here, too.”

His thumb brushed against my skin, gentle and deliberate, and my breath caught. The warmth of his touch sent a ripple through me, soft but startling, like the smallest drop breaking the surface of still water. My skin tingled where his thumb had been, and I was suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was, the faint scent of clay and something unmistakably him lingering in the air between us. I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but the words caught in my throat.

“There,” he said after a moment, his eyes meeting mine.

The warmth of his touch lingered even as he stepped back, hands dropping casually into his pockets.

Before either of us could say anything, a voice called out from behind us.

“MISS!”

I turned, startled, to see one of my pupils bounding toward me, his parents trailing behind with apologetic smiles.

“Max,” I said, smiling despite myself. “Hi.”

Max skidded to a halt, staring up at me with wide eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Enjoying the flowers,” I said, still smiling. “Same as you.”

He frowned, his gaze flicking to Austin for a moment before snapping back to me. “Did you see the red ones? Like the ones in the play?”

I blinked. “The ones from your scene?”

“Yeah!” Max said eagerly. “The big ones. I remembered my line about them yesterday!”

“That’s great, Max,” I said, genuinely impressed. “I knew you’d get it.”

He beamed, his excitement contagious, and I heard Austin chuckle softly beside me.

Max turned back to his parents, who gave me a quick wave before steering him away.

When I glanced at Austin, I found him watching me, something softer in his expression. “You’re good with him.”

Austin’s gaze lingered, and for a second, it felt like he wasn’t just talking about Max. There was a quiet intensity to the way he watched me, like he was cataloguing something he hadn’t noticed before. It sent a flutter through my chest I didn’t quite know what to do with.

I shrugged, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s part of the job.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s easy,” he said, his voice quiet.

For a second, neither of us moved.

Then, he smiled. The smile lingered between us, soft and warm, before he glanced back toward the path ahead. “Come on,” he said, motioning with his head. “Let’s keep walking. Unless you have somewhere to be?”

I shook my head. “No plans. Unless you count ‘avoiding cleaning my flat’ as something pressing.”

He chuckled, a low sound that did something unfair to my stomach. “In that case…”

We fell into an easy rhythm as we walked. The park was alive with families, joggers, and couples sprawled on picnic blankets, but somehow, it felt like a quiet bubble surrounded us. Occasionally, our arms brushed, and each time, I fought the urge to overthink the small, accidental touches.

“You never told me,” he said after a moment, his gaze sliding to me. “What’s the play about?”

I raised an eyebrow. “You want the full Year Four synopsis?”

“Absolutely.”

I laughed softly. “It’s a mishmash of fairy tales. The narrators—when they’re not fighting over who stands in the middle—are trying to tell a story, but all the characters keep messing it up. Cinderella accidentally ends up in the Three Little Pigs, Little Red Riding Hood steals the glass slipper, that kind of thing.”

He smiled. “Sounds like chaos.”

“Oh, it is.” I sighed. “But it’s sweet, in its own way. Max—the kid you just met—has this line about the roses in the Beast’s garden, and he gets so into it. Every rehearsal, he says it like he’s performing at the National Theatre.”

Austin’s smile widened. “I can tell he’s got a good teacher.”

I felt heat creep up my neck and focused on a patch of daisies lining the path. “They do all the work. I just point them in the right direction.”

He didn’t say anything for a beat, and when I glanced at him, his expression had softened again, that unreadable something flickering in his eyes. I didn’t know what to do with it, so I looked away.

As we reached a small fountain near the centre of the park, Austin stopped and turned to face me. “This was fun,” he said, his voice quieter now. There was a softness to his expression, something unguarded, like he wanted to say more but hadn’t quite decided how.

I nodded, my fingers brushing against the strap of my bag. “Yeah. It was.”

“I’m glad you came.”

There it was again—that flicker. I met his gaze and felt my stomach twist, the easy rhythm of our walk replaced by something heavier. Something unspoken.

He didn’t look away. Didn’t fill the silence with a joke or a tease.

I broke the moment first, glancing down at my trainers. “So… do you think they’ll call us pottery prodigies? Or is that just wishful thinking?”

His mouth quirked into a half-smile. “I think they’ll call us something. Not sure ‘prodigy’ is the word.”

I laughed, the tension easing just enough to breathe again. “Speak for yourself. My abstract bowl is going to revolutionise the pottery world.”

He chuckled, but his gaze lingered, as if he was still holding onto something from a moment ago.

When we started walking again, it felt lighter, easier, the conversation dipping back into safe territory. By the time we reached the park’s edge, the sun was dipping lower in the sky, casting everything in a soft, golden glow.

As we stopped at the corner where we’d have to part ways, he turned to me again, his hands in his pockets. “Thanks for coming today.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” I said, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

For a second, it felt like he might say something more. His gaze held mine, his lips parting slightly, but then he smiled—a small, almost shy curve of his mouth—and stepped back.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” he said, his voice light.

“Yeah,” I said, clutching the strap of my bag. “See you soon.”

I turned first, walking away with measured steps, my heart doing something both ridiculous and impossible to ignore. And as I glanced back over my shoulder, just once, I found him still standing there, watching me.

I turned back quickly, heart skipping in my chest. What was he thinking? Did I imagine that hesitation, the way he’d almost said something at the fountain? I shook my head, willing myself to stop overanalysing. But even as I walked away, his voice lingered in my mind, quiet and steady. I’m glad you came.

Taglist:

@slowsweetlove @thefallofthedamned @saturnsdaughtr @bellesdreamyprofile @butlerrizz @myradiaz @chocolatetree222

[psycheetamore]

First of all: breitling needs to start paying you. So much advertising. Or are you already in on their payroll? Would hope so. But whatever they are paying,

You grin, voice teasing as you brace your hands against the edge, the cool metal digging into your palms. “This is the big plan? Screwing me senseless to survive this shoot?” you say, breathless with a playful edge.

Uuuh, yes. Sounds like a good plan. Can't have any doubt. Best plan ever. Will resolve so many of men's problems.

You bite your lip to stifle a whimper, the trailer walls thin enough to make you both hyper-aware of the crew milling a distance away outside. He lines himself up, nudging against you before he pushes in, thrusting deep in a hurried rush that slams his hips into yours.

Walls thin, and let's not forget about the rocking motion brought onto such instable vehicle. But... isn't this a way of method acting? He is giving it his all, and let's be honest: he did look like he was in the process of a night long making love, with a little break to dance and prance in the desert. He is just giving it his all, for the outcome.

His cock slides inside you, thick and pulsing, hitting the spot that makes your knees buckle, and he clamps his hand over your mouth muffling the loud moans falling from lips. “You want everyone to hear what I’m doing to you?” he asks and you shake your head, breathless.

Quick-Take

Label Mature 18+

Summary Austin is exhausted from jet lag on set for Breitling, his passion diminishing until your quick thinking gives him several minutes of clarity in his trailer.

🔗 Masterlist

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 Austin devoted boyfriend • over worked• stressed• needs affection• Austin’s love language •supportive girlfriend • stress relief• quickie in a trailer• p in V• over a counter• don’t make a sound• semi private• Austin pleasure bonded • orgasm • cream pie•aftercare

Quick-Take

It’s a crisp morning in the middle of the desert, the Breitling timepiece photoshoot set busy with strained energy beneath a relentless sun.

Hills line the horizon around you, dotted with shrubs, as the vast, cloudless sky blazes overhead.

The crew hustles around, tweaking lights, and hollering directions, while Austin stands in the center of it all.

He’s dressed in blue jeans hugging his lean frame, a matching blue shirt tucked tight into the waist, secured with a brown leather belt

His outfit is rugged perfection, and you watch him shoot a few scenes, striding toward the camera with purpose, and when he turns to walk away his great ass in those jeans steals your focus entirely.

Austin looks hot, there’s no question, but his mood is completely off.Jet lag’s got him in a chokehold, you both arriving fresh off a red-eye flight thanks to his relentless career schedule, and his usual easy going charm is wearing thin under the exhaustion.

You’re off to the side, sipping water under a hanging tarp to beat the dry heat, keeping an eye on him.

He glances over with a little smile, hands on his hips, until it’s time for photos. Then he’s back to stern, his brows furrowed, jaw tight.

You can’t help but notice the way they frame his perfect side profile, broad shoulders tapering down to that slim waist, hand cocked on his hip accentuating the curve of his ass.

But as his eyes flicker with a weary squint, you know he’s about to crash, there’s no hiding it.

Every time the photographer calls, “Tilt your head, Austin,” or “Give me more intensity,” he complies, but his eyes scream he’s over it.

He’s in one of his moods, too polite to speak up, too tired to fake it fully. Still, he keeps it together, offering that sensual, yet slightly edgier look the camera craves, playing it cool like the pro he is.

The Breitling watch gleams on his wrist, catching the light with every forced pose, but the tension’s simmering just beneath the surface.

The photographer finally calls for a break, and Austin slinks over to the folding chair near you, his name bold across the back.

He slumps into it with a low groan, rubbing his temples, his brown hair a little over-gelled from the styling team’s earlier efforts and you slide in beside him, offering comfort any way you can.

“You’re killing it out there,” you say, keeping it light.

He glances up at you, and for a second, his guarded expression softens. A shy grin tugs at the corner of his lips, barely there but enough to make your chest warm. “Yeah?” he says, his voice low and gravelly from exhaustion. “Thanks. Feel like I’m running on fumes, though.”

“You’re hiding it well,” you say, giving him a playful glance. “Seriously, you look so good in this outfit Austin the blue denim is really working for you.” You confess your eyes trailing over him, lingering on the way the jeans cling to his thighs.

He huffs a small laugh, running a hand through his hair, and you catch the faintest flush on his cheeks. He’s still off, still wound tight, but you can tell he appreciates the effort. You just want him to shake off the gloom, to see that spark he usually carries. He’s too pretty to be this miserable.

You let your fingers trail up his shoulders, squeezing the tight muscles beneath his blue shirt as you lean in, your voice dropping softly. “You’ve got this,” you whisper, fingers sliding higher, tracing the line of his shoulders until you graze the edge of his collar.

He turns to you, his blue eyes soft with a quiet ache flickering in them. “I need you so damn much right now,” he says, his voice low and rough.

His words hit deep, a raw edge to them that tightens your chest, and before he can say more, the director calls for the next shot.

You squeeze his shoulder one last time, and he brushes your hand gently as he gets up.

You watch him walk through the desert heat, climbing up and sitting at the top of a ladder for the next shot, the sandy hills framing him perfectly.

He’s supposed to look brooding, focused, but instead he looks lost under the intense sun, reflectors glaring into his blue eyes, squinting hard, with his brows furrowed.

The photographer’s directions pile on, “Elbows on your knees,” “Hands too low, I need to see the watch, Austin,” “Too stiff.” Austin keeps correcting himself, but it’s not working his minds not in it, and his head dips low as he exhales a frustrated breath.

The director’s voice cuts through, sharp and measured. “Alright, let’s break for wardrobe and set up for the quick take shot.” He calls, and Austin climbs down, his composure cracked as he heads straight for you, defeat in his eyes.

You pull him into your arms, his solid body a little too warm as your hands rest on his jaw, drawing his blue eyes to meet yours. “What do you need, baby?” you ask softly.

“I can’t keep it together out here… just need a minute,” he responds, his voice hushed, and there’s no hesitation as he takes your hand, pulling you toward his silver Airstream trailer parked off in the sand.

His grip is firm, his pace hurried, like he’s chasing relief and you’re the only one who can provide it.

As soon as the door locks shut, sealing out the desert glare, he’s already spilling his desperate thoughts. “Fuck, babe, I can’t think straight,” he rasps, voice low and frayed.

He paces for a moment, restless, until you tease half-serious, “You want a quickie in the trailer?”

His eyes light up instantly. “Yes,” he says, and you feel a thrill surge through you as he closes the distance fast, pulling you into his arms as his lips meet yours in a fierce and hungry clash.

His tongue sweeps into your mouth, hot and insistent, tasting faintly of mint as he kisses you deeper, a starved groan rising from his throat. His hands grip your face, pulling you even closer, like he can’t get enough.

He breaks the kiss breathless, his hands spinning you around quick and pressing you against the front room counter. “Been losing my mind out there… need to fuck you so bad, it’s the only thing that’ll pull me together.”

You grin, voice teasing as you brace your hands against the edge, the cool metal digging into your palms. “This is the big plan? Screwing me senseless to survive this shoot?” you say, breathless with a playful edge.

“Hell yes,” he says his voice tense, fumbling with his belt in a frantic rush, the brown leather clinking wildly as he yanks it loose.

His fingers snag the zipper of his jeans, tugging it down in one sharp pull as he shoves the denim low enough to free himself.

His cock springs out, thick and hard, and he hikes your skirt up with a rough pull. “Need you… fuck, I need you so much,” he groans, yanking your panties down, exposing your ass to him. His fingers grip your thighs, spreading you open with a low groan, his tip already slick as he presses it against you.

You bite your lip to stifle a whimper, the trailer walls thin enough to make you both hyper-aware of the crew milling a distance away outside. He lines himself up, nudging against you before he pushes in, thrusting deep in a hurried rush that slams his hips into yours.

Your fingers dig into the counter, a quiet, “Mmm,” slipping out despite your best efforts, the pleasure spiking fast as a choked off sound escapes him and he settles inside, the tight heat of you swallowing him whole.

His body jolts, a shudder ripping through him, and he presses himself closer, pulling you against him, his breaths jagged against your neck. “So good..need you so fuckin’ much,” he says softly, his voice breaking as he clings to you, his hands roaming you with an insatiable need.

He’s not gentle or rough, just desperate, and he thrusts into you fast and messy, like he’s chasing salvation. His hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts through your shirt, squeezing hard enough to make you arch into him. “Can’t get enough of you,” he pants, fingers trailing back down to dig into your hips, pulling you tighter against him as he thrusts, harder, deeper, his belt clinking sharply with every snap of his hips.

Soft whimpers spill from you, your pleasure washing over you as you melt into his touch, a quiet “Oh, Austin” slipping past your lips in a breathy plea.

He groans low, loving how you sound, his breaths catching against your ear, each one a rough whisper of his need as he loses himself in you.

The denim of his jeans chafes against your thighs, the zipper’s teeth grazing your skin as he drives into you faster with a frantic need.

You both try to keep it quiet, stifling moans, but it’s a losing battle. He’s fucking you like he’s trying to empty every ounce of stress into you, and your meeting him on every thrust, your brains melting in the heat of pleasure.

His cock slides inside you, thick and pulsing, hitting the spot that makes your knees buckle, and he clamps his hand over your mouth muffling the loud moans falling from lips. “You want everyone to hear what I’m doing to you?” he asks and you shake your head, breathless.

He groans low and stifled, the sound vibrating against your spine, and you can tell he’s trying to bite down on his noise, satisfying you while losing himself completely.

His pace turns erratic, thrusting wildly, your body rocking hard with the force of it. His hand leaves your mouth, gripping your hips, squeezing your ass, trailing back to your breasts to pinch and knead your nipples.

Your head tilts back, choked-off sounds escaping your throat as your walls tighten and flutter around his cock, clenching him tight in the heat of pleasure.

“Please, baby, come for me,” he whispers, voice shaking with need. “I need it…need to feel you, need to know how good you feel on my cock.”

His thrusts turn relentless, so fast your body shakes, a trembling mess as he pounds into you. His fingers slip down, rubbing your clit in tight circles in time with his hips, and a loud moan escapes you as you come, your walls clenching hard around him

His hand covers over your mouth again, stifling the little sounds spilling from you, and he groans in pleasure, his breaths releasing in quick, uneven bursts against your neck.

You can feel the weight of the day slipping off of him, each shuddering exhale carrying away the tension that’s been crushing him.

His hands suddenly drop to your hips, anchoring himself as he comes with a deep, shaky groan that echoes in the small space. He buries his cock deep, hips stuttering, as a guttural, “Fuck,” slips out before he can stop it.

His cock throbs inside you, spilling hot and thick, and the feel of it, him letting go and filling you up, sends a shiver through you.

His hands grip your ass, pulling you flush against him as he rides it out, chest heaving, lazily drawing you closer with each slowing thrust. He rests his head against the side of yours, his soft sighs of relief slipping from him warm and quiet against your skin.

“Feeling better?” you grin, breathless, your voice light with a tease.

He lets out a winded laugh, pulling out slowly and tucking his cock back into his jeans with trembling fingers. “Yeah,” he rasps, his voice soft and wrecked, “Much better.”

He turns you to face him, and he kisses you, his lips brushing yours with a tender, lingering press before he pulls back, his shy smile breaking through.

“You’re so good to me,” he praises, his voice warm and low, and you grin, catching the spark flickering back into his eyes.

Your hand presses gently against his jaw. “The quick shot, baby,” you remind him, and his face shifts with a determined nod, focus snapping back into place.

He quickly peels off the blue shirt and jeans, tossing the clothing onto a chair in the corner of the trailer.

You fix yourself up while he puts on his second outfit, a crisp white tee that hugs his frame just right and a pair of sleek black jeans that make him look effortless.

He pulls everything on, running a hand through his hair, then he turns to you with an eager expression awaiting your approval.

You step closer, tilting your head as you take him in. “You look great, very vintage Austin,” you tease, grinning as your hands trail down the front of his tee.

He chuckles, ducking his head with his shy edge creeping back into his smile. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” you nod, stepping around him to grab his guitar from its stand in the corner.

The sleek acoustic has been sitting there all morning, untouched, and you hold it out to him. “Why don’t you bring some of you into this shoot? It’d go perfect with the Breitling vibe, timeless and classic, but with your edge.”

His eyes light up, and he takes the guitar from you, fingers brushing yours as he does. “That’s… actually a really good idea,” he says, his voice lifting with a spark of excitement.

He strums a soft chord testing it out, and you can see the gears turning. “Yeah,” he says, nodding to himself. “Yeah, I’m feeling that.”

He looks at you, and before you can react, he steps in close, cupping your chin with one hand and pressing a kiss on your lips full of gratitude.

His thumb brushes your cheek as he pulls back,“You’re a genius, you know that?” he says, his voice lifting with a smile “Thanks for pulling me out of my head.”

You laugh, a little breathless. “I just want you to have some fun out there.”

He grins full-on this time, no hesitation and heads back out to the set, guitar in hand.

You trail behind, watching as he takes charge. “Hey,” he calls to the crew, “can we get my bike out here? The black one behind the trailer?”

The team scrambles, and soon enough, the sleek motorcycle is rolled into the frame, its chrome glinting as the crew works to set up the lighting.

Austin sits on the couch in front of his trailer as he waits with the natural swagger he’s got locked down. He strums a few chords on his guitar, loose and easy, letting his fingers dance over the strings.

The photographer catches it, snapping away as the videographer joins in, rolling footage while Austin glances over at you with a playful smile.

You cross your arms, grinning back, and he adds his own flair tilting his head just so, the Breitling watch flashing as he shifts his grip on the guitar.

Once the bike is set up Austin sets the guitar down against the couch as the makeup and hair artists swoop in for a final touch-up, dabbing his face and tousling his hair a bit more.

Then he pauses, a new idea sparking in his eyes as he ducks into his trailer, emerging moments later with one of his favorite leather jackets.

He shrugs it on, the fit snug across his shoulders, as he strides toward his motorcycle parked in the middle of the set.

The crew watches, hooked, as he moves with purpose, posing  with one hand on the bike’s handlebar, the other crossed over his chest, fingers splayed to showcase the Breitling watch perfectly, the sleek metal glinting in the light.

Then, he shifts, planting both hands on the handlebars, standing in a wide, commanding stance over the bike, legs braced in the sand, exuding raw confidence.

The crew’s eating it up, and you can tell he’s back in his stride, as the shoot transforms into something alive, something him, raw, cool, and effortlessly authentic.

By the time they call it a day, the photos are gold. The photographer’s buzzing about all the shots and footage they’ve done, and Austin is practically glowing with that quiet pride he carries.

He walks over to you, slinging an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Couldn’t have done it without you, baby,” he says, his voice warm as he presses a kiss to your temple. “Breitling’s gonna owe you one.”

You laugh, leaning into him, the familiar weight of his arm grounding you. “I’m just happy to see you happy,” you confess, and his grin widens, soft and real.

With the stress melted away, he’s back to being the Austin you know full of charisma and charm, just needing a quick moment of clarity to be himself.

END 👖

🔗 Masterlist

🏷️ Always Tag Me List @purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia @butdaddyilovehim99 @austinbutlerfly @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @lindszeppelin @abswifey @aust-een @umika @feralgodmothers @megangovier @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @faegoddessog @dunevitani @unicoo @thejoywillburnoutthepain @jessica987 @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @finley-08 @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @lovereadingfanfic @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @i5uckersblog @ughdontbeboring @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @12joeywheelerfangirl @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya @stars-remain2 @skulliecadaver-blog @jjubilee-fluff

[shockercoco]

Dangerously Yours

Benny Cross x reader

Warnings - 18+, jealousy smut, fingering, eating out, squirting, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, some swear words

Word count - 2550

a/n - here’s the winner of the poll and part 2 of The Lucky One, but it can be read by itself. I’m so glad you guys enjoyed it enough to want a part 2! tysm and I hope you enjoy :) (I will fix any errors later💀)

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Benny mumbles as you dodge his kiss. “What now?”

Not even five minutes ago, this man was basically teasing you about your jealousy, and now he has the audacity to be confused. You didn’t want to admit the fact that you were jealous of his ex, but it’s Benny – when he wants an answer he’ll make sure he gets it.

You’re not really angry, just slightly embarrassed, so you feel like being petty because why not?

“Nothing, I told you I was tired,” you tell him as you move away from the counter and out of his grasp.

Benny blinks a few times, confused, because he thought he had just resolved the problem that had caused your bitchy attitude.

The tea you had made before Benny interrupted you in the kitchen is now cold, so you pour the tea out and place the cup into the sink before leaving the kitchen. You make a quick stop at the front door to make sure it’s locked before making your way upstairs with Benny hot on your tail.

“I know when you’re tired and this,” he gestures to you, “is not it.”

“Well, it looks like you don’t know me that well then because I am tired,” you shoot him a glare, turning the bedroom light off as soon as you enter the room. Benny comes in behind you and immediately turns the light back on.

You make a move to walk over to your side of the bed, but Benny stops you. He grabs your arm to pull you towards him before pushing you back onto the bed. You roll your eyes making sure to keep your annoyed expression – you’re going to keep up this facade for as long as you can. 

You use your hands to crawl backwards towards the headboard, but again, Benny interrupts your plans. He grabs you at your ankles and pulls you back towards him at the bottom of the bed. When you try to move again, his grip tightens on your ankles.

“Let me go,” you say.

“I know what you’re doing,” he tells you, voice low. He places a knee in between your legs, moving a hand up your body as he moves to hover over you before placing his hands on either side of your head.

Stay strong.

“Really? Enlighten me, then,” you raise your eyebrows as you look up at him, folding your arms across your chest.

“I don’t have to tell you what you already know, sweetheart. You’re not dumb," Benny smirks down at you.

“You know, I’m in the perfect position to knee you right between your legs, right?” you question.

Benny ignores your remark as he moves to travel south. “Since you wanna play games, I don’t mind playing along, but I’m gonna have to add a couple of rules.”

“What are you doing?” you ask as you follow him with your eyes as he places his face in front of your covered pussy. You feel yourself throb as he teasing rubs a hand on your thigh.

Benny playfully tilts his head. “What? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

As Benny moves back to pull your pajama shorts and underwear down your legs, you try to keep your breathing steady.

“No,” you say firmly, but it was a lie. Even though you weren’t exactly planning to end up in this position, you knew this is how Benny liked to deal with you when you had an attitude. 

You watch as Benny moves back to pull you pajama shorts and underwear slowly down your legs. There was a small patch of arousal starting to form in your panties, which caused it to stick to your cunt as Benny pulled them away from you. The corners of his mouth twitched as he notices how wet you are already.

“You sure about that?” he asks as he looks up at you. You breathe in sharply as you feel Benny rub a thumb up and down your already sticky folds. “Because what I’m seeing right now is telling me something completely different.”

Stay strong.

You have to clench your jaw and close your eyes when Benny presses down onto your clit, his eyes watching your every move. You open your mouth to say something but immediately close it when Benny presses again, this time drawing tight circles.

“Nothing to say? You had so much to say just a second ago, what happened?”

You open your mouth to try to speak again, but you again get interrupted when Benny presses down on your clit again, stopping you from speaking on purpose.

What a prick. 

“You don’t have to answer that, baby, I already know,” he smiles. “But what you do have to do is stay quiet for me because, like you said, this isn’t what you wanted, so you obviously won’t be enjoying this.”

Benny suddenly moves his hand down and pushes a finger into you, your slick cunt making it easy to glide in. Your clit is only abandoned for a second before he uses his other hand to give it attention. 

His pace is slow and tantalizing as he thrusts his finger in and out of you. You have to bite your lip when Benny adds a second finger inside of you, curling his fingers into your walls, but when his fingers find that special spot, an involuntary moan leaves your lips.

Benny’s fingers immediately stop as his eyes leave your cunt to look up at you. “I said be quiet, remember?”

He waits for you to nod before continuing, but this time he adds his mouth to the mix. You feel his tongue glide across you before using his mouth to add suction to your clit. Your hips jerk at the feeling.  The speed of his fingers gradually increase, making the sounds escaping your soaked cunt to become louder and louder.

Your resolve is quickly diminishing, making it harder to stay quiet as Benny’s lips attack you. You feel the need to grab onto something, so you finally uncross your arms to grab onto the blanket.

Benny stops again. “No, no, no. You wanted to be petty and fold your arms like you’re tryna to prove something, so keep them folded.”

You let out a whimper, but do as he says. He sends you a look, silently telling you to be quiet, before starting up his fingers again and reattaching his lips. Since you can’t grab onto the bed, you dig your nails into folded arms. You want to scream.

As you feel yourself reaching the end of this tortuous climb, it all becomes too much. Your hips buck away from his face and you try to close your legs, causing Benny to use his unoccupied hand to grab onto one of your thighs to keep you spread. His fingers move even faster inside of your tight, wet hole, and you might actually pass out.

When you tumble over the edge and cum, your eyes roll as your hands move to grip the bed again. Fuck Benny. He uses your fingers to work you through your orgasm, constantly rubbing against that spot along your walls. Your walls are closing around Benny’s fingers, but he doesn’t care, enjoying the way your cunt spasms and flutters and the way your wetness covers his hand. Your back arches as you grind yourself against his face, your head falling back against the bed. 

As you begin to come down from your high, you notice Benny not slowing down. 

“Benny!” you squeak out as you try to move your hips away. 

You try to crawl back, but that doesn’t stop Benny, he just follows your hips as you move. Suddenly you feel yourself gush, squirting onto his face and forcing his fingers out of you. The fabric below you quickly becomes soaked with your mess. Benny quickly rubs his fingers across your clit, prolonging your squirting.

“God, please!” you plead as you continue to try to get out of his grasp. “Benny!”

Benny hums into you as he wraps his arms around your shaking thighs to keep you glued to him. Your legs close around his head as the feeling vibrates through your body. 

Benny eventually stops and allows you to push his head away from you. You quickly close your legs as Benny uses his hand to wipe your mess from his face with a laugh. Your chest heaves up and down as you try to catch your breath, your body trembling.

While you try to calm down, Benny stands up to remove his sweatpants and tank top. You catch a glance of a spot of precum on the fabric of his underwear, before he pulls that down to, letting his hard cock free. This is far from over.

You body feels limp, so you put up no resistance when Benny comes back to hover you and pulls your tank top over your head. Then, he moves to position himself between your legs, and begins to rub his cock against your sticky folds. Your body twitches and you let out a small moan at the action.

“What’s wrong, are you too sensitive?” Benny fake pouts above you, and you don’t have the energy to snap back at him. All you can do is moan in response. “That’s too bad because I haven’t had my release yet. You can take another round, though, right baby?”

He smirks as you glare up at him, but the expression is quickly wiped from your face as he pushes his cock into you. You throw your head back into the bed as your mouth opens to make a noise, but all that comes out is a silence.

Benny groans as he sets his pace inside of you – slow and deep. He grabs ahold of your thighs to prevent them from closing and to help him push inside of you. He looks down at the spot where the two of you are connected to take in the sight of your soaked opening sucking him in. A creamy ring can also be seen forming at the base of his cock 

“Fuck,” you whimper.

“I can’t believe you got jealous of Kay, baby. I mean you, of all people, should know where my heart is,” Benny taunts. “You’re my good girl, isn’t that right?”

You grab a hold of a pillow that’s been tossed to the side as you arch your back. Your eyes are closed and your thighs are shaking as Benny continues his deep thrusts inside of you. He knows exactly what you like and what you need, which is why he decided to use a slow pace to torture you.

Then there’s a rough thrust. He gently caresses one of your thighs as a punched out moan leaves you. “I asked you a question, baby.”

“Yes!” you cry out.

“Yes what?” he asks.

“I’m your good girl.”

“Yeah you are. My sweet, sweet girl.”

Oh my god.

Benny grabs a hold of your hands and lowers it to your stomach and presses down. It’s almost enough to make you come on the spot. 

And you do, causing Benny to laugh as he watches your body convulse.

“You’re the one I’m inside of, baby,” he groans, his voice husky, with his hand still on your stomach.

You clench down around him at his words, causing him to groan. He closes his eyes for a second to collect himself, before opening them back up. Benny then leans down to hover over you, wrapping his arms around your body to help him go even deeper. His head moves to drop into your neck, his hot breath fanning against you.

You think your eyes might get stuck in the back of your head.

“Your pussy is the only one I look forward to having around me,” he whispers into your ear. “Do you know that?”

“Yes, Benny!” 

You can hear the remains of your precious orgasm causing a squishing and squelching sound to leave your dripping cunt. You can feel some of your mess leaking down and onto the already damp blanket beneath. You feel Benny’s deep moan fill your ear.

“You sure because it didn’t seem that way earlier,” he tells you. 

Fuck his ex. Well, maybe you should be saying thank you at the moment.

You feel like you’re holding onto for dear life.

“I do, I do, I do,” you answer breathlessly, your eyelids heavy.

He pulls his head away from your neck to place a sloppy, wet kiss against your lips. You’re too far gone to do anything but let out a needy whimper into his mouth.

“I belong only to you, ain’t that right?” he mumbles against your lips. 

All you can say is, “Uh huh,” while giving him a nod.

Benny notices your distant expression and grabs your head into his hands, making you look him in the eyes while he continues to rock into you.

“Look at you, so gorgeous. No one compares to you. Wanna make you mine officially, wanna marry you,” he tells you. You shudder against him. “You like that idea, huh?”

You nod again.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he smirks.

“Yes,” you manage to say.

“I know you do,” he tells you.

Eventually you feel his thrusts get needy and more sloppy, his hold on you becoming tighter.

“Wanna make you mine,” he repeats, his head back in the crook of your neck as he pounds into your overly sensitive cunt. Your body is limp, a constant string of noises leaving your lips, but you can feel drool dribbling out the side of your mouth. “Wanna make you mine.”

Benny snakes his hand between your two bodies, landing on your clit. Your body jerks at the feeling. “Are you gonna give me another one, sweetheart,” he pants as he rubs circles into you.

He fucks you deeper into the mattress, humping you with need.

“No, I can’t!” you pathetically cry out.

“Yes, you can,” he grunts, and when he gets no response, he says, “that’s my girl.”

You feel your third orgasm quickly approaching, “Please, Benny, please,” you moan.

“I got you,” he tells you.

Suddenly your walls are clamping around him, and you're gushing, your squirt coming out with every thrust. Your body arches up into him as Benny chases his own high. You're a trembling wet mess underneath him.

Then you feel Benny throbbing inside of you, your repeated clenching throwing him over the edge. When he pulls out, you shudder, causing Benny to give you a quick sorry.

He collapses with his head on your stomach, and the two of you lay in a comfortable silence. The room is filled with nothing but heavy breaths, until you decide to speak up. There’s a serious question running through your mind.

“Do you actually wanna marry me?” you ask as you look down at him, your hands in his hair.

“Yeah,” Benny nods with a genuine smile, then adds, “I kinda have to after all this, don’t you think?”

You give him a look as you find the energy to hit him with a pillow. He quickly sits up and stops you from hitting his face with a laugh.

“You know i'm just kiddin’,” he smiles.

like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[voxmortuus]

⇘ PAIRING:⇙ Dom!Benny Cross x Sub!F!Reader

⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ The Bikeriders

⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 3k

⇘ SUMMARY:⇙ Seems you've found yourself in a rather unique situation. You've known Benny for a long while, but you always felt a little out of his league, whatever league that may be, it just didn't feel like you were good enough for him. The thing is, you're just what he's looking for. You've got a lot of love to give, a heart on your sleeve, and a loyalty that is stronger than a dog. He wants you, but he wants you specifically. He wants you to be his old lady, he wants you to be his ride or die. Once he gets you alone though, the patches stay on, and things get a little far from vanilla.

⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ Fluff | Language | Smoking | Smut | Some BDSMesque Scenes | Dom!Benny | Kissing | Face Smacking | Boot on Face | Hair Pulling | Fingering | Hand job | Oral (M) | Face fucking | Guided Masturbation | Benny Masturbating | Begging | Facial | These are in no particular order! PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this…

⇘ NOTES:⇙ I hope this brings you some joy.

⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa

⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa

⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙

Was it happenstance, or was it planned that he happened to show up today? Handing the beer over the counter, you lean against the bar, and you smile the sweetest smile you've got in you.

"Well shit, if it ain't Benny Cross. How long has it been?" You asked. Benny looked up at you as he walked in, giving you that same crooked grin he always walked around with. He gave a slight chuckle.

"Well, no shit. It's been, what, almost 7 years?" He asked you. You nod your head and chuckle a bit.

"Yeah, somethin' like that." you smirk and look down at the bar top.

It had been what feels like forever. It feels like you haven't seen him in ages, and truth be told, it had been ages. Seven whole ages, as a matter of fact. Smirking, he looks over you as he approaches the bar. Looking over his face, you smile, and a soft blush graces your cheeks, causing you to feel warm. Letting out a soft, shaky breath, you glance around, realizing that no one else was there in the bar, but you knew that wasn't going to last too long. How do you even say what you think you need to say. You groan, and you sigh and decide not to say anything.

As the night went on, the two of you mingled and caught up. He learned quite a bit about you, just as much as you learned about him. You learned quite a bit, and he learned just as much. However, you learned something that he didn't tell you either, he had always liked you. Well fuck. Upon closing up the bar, you look at him and shake your head.

"Benny, I've always had a thing for you. I always thought you were too good for me. Outta my fuckin league." you state honestly.

Benny stopped and stared at you. "Outta my league? No, no. I felt you were outta mine. Let me ask you this... you still want me?"

"I've always wanted you... that never changed, never after all these years." you admit.

He looks at you and runs his hand over his face. Nodding his head, he looks back toward the door. Looking back at you, he walks to the door and locks it. "Come here." he points to the ground in front of him.

Lifting a well-manicured and well-defined brow, you walk to him and stand in front of him. You look over that face, that handsome, perfectly chiseled face, and you lose yourself all over again. Why? Why, when you are around him, he makes you feel so... weak. He makes you feel so... dead-brained.

Walking to you, he sticks a finger under your chin and forces you to look up at him. A thought crosses his mind, an urge.

"I want you to prove to me how much you want me." He tells you, his voice drops an octave as he watches you.

"How do you want me to do that Benny? Just say the word and you got it." You state.

"Strip, then lay flat, face down on the floor." He states.

Okay, so that was NOT what you had expected. Blinking a few times, you don't hesitate, and you do just that. Stripping down, you fold your clothes and place them to the side, and you lower yourself to the floor. Biting your lower lip, you listen as he paces around you, observing you, taking in your figure, your heartbeat picks up in anticipation as you watch his boots come into view, and he stops and looks down at you.

Benny lights a cigarette and takes a long drag from it. Watching you as you lay there, he runs his free hand through his hair and then over his facial hair for a moment. Smirking, he takes a few steps closer to you and kneels down a moment, a hand dangling between his legs.

"So, you've gone this whole time not sayin anything. All because you felt I was out of your league... You know Darlin' if you had said anything, you may have learned a thing or two about how I felt. Maybe you need to be punished for that, huh? Teach you how to speak your mind? Make you beg for my attention now?" he stated.

Why did that make your cunt tingle? Make you hot? And why the fuck did that sound like such a good idea coming from him? You nod softly.

"No, I want you to say it." He stated firmly as he took a drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke bellow above him as he exhaled.

"Yes. Punish me, teach me to speak my mind... make me... beg." You state. Your eyes look at his boots, and your fingers press into the floor as they are stretched out to your sides.

Standing up, he looks ahead of him, out the window of the bar, and smirks. He leans against the pool table, thinking of ways to punish you. Looking at your figure as you are sprawled out against the floor, so many things come to mind.

Standing back up from leaning, he pushes himself from the pool table and walks to you. He places his right boot on the side of your head. Not stepping, but applying just enough pressure for it to feel -- oddly comfortable. Your fingers press into the floor as you gasp. Why are you feeling this right now? Feeling these... feelings push through your thoughts. You bite your lip, and you let out a slow breath.

"Now, I've been thinking, since walking into this place, since we started talking, reminiscing about the past. I have been thinking about how things could go. About how we could have been together this whole time. But now, now I see the kind of girl you really are. I won't lie, Darlin'... kinda revs me up a bit. Eager to please." he mused a moment.

Looking down at you, he tilts his head, a sight for sore eyes, and fuck did he enjoy the view. Licking his lips, he took another drag from his smoke before he reached over to a close by table and tapped the ashes into an ashtray he had. With your head under his boot, he looks over the rest of your body. Leaning over with a smoke between his lips, his fingers run down the length of your spine. Feeling your flesh under his fingers.

"Soft to the touch." he pointed out.

Standing back up, he moved away from you, leaving you to bite your lip and almost ask for more. But instead, he reached down, grabbed your hair, and moved you to a standing position. You guided yourself with ease, and there was this deeper part of you that also enjoyed that. "What is wrong with me?" you asked yourself.

Moving you to sit in a chair, he spreads your legs apart. Looking over you, he licks his lips.

"Hands on your thighs, don't move them." He demands.

You nod in agreement. He wasn't going to demand the 'Sir' word just yet, but holy fuck was he going to enjoy it when it happened.

"Now I'm going to ask you a question, either say yes or say no. It's that simple. Got it?"

"Yes. I understand."

"Good. I'm going to hurt you, but it's not because I want to hurt you, it's because well... I want to see you in a different light, and because I enjoy it. Do you consent?" he looks over your face.

Taking a moment to understand, you've read some raunchy trashy books, so you knew not to compare the two, you weren't that naïve. You draw in a breath and you nod. "Yes. I consent." you finally state.

With a smirk across his lips, he nods. "Good girl. So long I've wanted to do this to you." He stated as he put his smoke out.

Walking behind the bar, he went to wash his hands, took a swig off a whiskey bottle, and made his way back toward you. Standing in front of you, he tilts his head. With a firm hand, he looks at you and throws it across your face. At first, you gasp, you close your eyes, your head whipped to the side. You whimper, not sure how to feel about it. You look to the ground, but he takes your chin and forces you to look back at him, and he smiles. Giving you a wink, and that's when you feel this sense of calm wash over you. It's like this switch was flipped in your mind. Submissive mode on... more so than before.

You didn't dislike the feeling on your skin, a hot sting. He brought his hand back, and it met your face again. Quickly moving to grab your chin, he leaned in and kissed your lips softly.

"Atta girl." he praised.

You felt this bubble of excitement rise inside you. It was this rush that moved through your veins like a hot liquid. Bubbling at the surface, wanting more.

"More, please." You ask.

He was happy to oblige. A little harder, be clipped your lip, but you didn't mind. The coppery taste on your tongue was sort of pleasant, a welcomed gift. You smile looking up at him. He looked at you, almost worried, but yet oddly calm. He smirked, leaning in he kissed you again, nipping at your now swollen lip. You feel your lower lips clench and quiver with want. Your breath was shaky against his lips.

His hand moves down your torso, moving to grip a breast before his hand moves down your apex right to your core. Your breath, staggered, your heart, pounding, your mind, stupid. You clench your lower walls and bite your lip, watching him, feeling him, desiring and needing him. You whimper. His fingers hover, and the heat from his flesh kisses your warm, swollen, needy bud.

When he finally brings his fingers to touch you, you gasp. You lock eyes with him, studying his baby blues as he begins to work your little swollen bundle of nerves. His free hand moves to jerk your head back by pulling your hair, as he hovers over you. His legs pressed against yours spreading your legs further as he worked you, exposing you to the pool table behind him.

But it was when he slid his fingers into you that your mind went more stupid. You let out a heavy moan as your eyes flutter, feeling his fingers work you. Leaning back in the chair, you let him take complete control, as he desired, and your body was no longer your own, and you were far from upset with that idea.

His fingers were like magic, but suddenly that all came to a stop. He looks at you, holding his fingers up as he looks at you. Bringing them to his lips he placed them in his mouth and smirked.

"Finger lickin good... Now... show me what you do with that pussy of yours when you think of me, because let's face it, Darlin, with all you've admitted, I know you've thought about me." He smirked as he moved back to lean against the pool table.

Looking at you he watches intently. Your hand moves to your bud as you slowly begin to work yourself. You watch him, intently, watching how he moves, how he breathes, how his lips curl with that crooked grin of his. You begin to remember how his lips tasted, how they felt against yours, how his fingers felt playing with you. You whimper as you bring your other hand up to grip your breast. Your breathing becomes heavy and you watch as the front of his pants grow tight.

Biting your lip you tasted the blood but your focus was on him.

"Atta girl, slow down, not too fast." he guides.

He readjusts against the pool table as he undoes his pants, freeing himself, he begins to stroke himself slowly. You slow down a bit, your toes curl against the floor as your legs spread even wider giving him a full view as you scoot forward a bit and expose your whole self even more.

"Just like that, keep going. What crosses your mind when you think of me?" he asked you.

Letting out a whimper you look over him as he strokes himself right in front of you. Dear fuck, his cock is god damned perfect.

"What you would feel like inside me." You state honestly with a soft whimper.

"What I'd feel like inside you huh? Well, maybe if you're a good girl, you'll find out." He mused as he moved his hand a little quicker against his cock. "Pick up a little speed." He demanded.

Without a shadow of hesitation, your fingers begin to work yourself quicker. You moan a little louder. His hand works himself faster, a little harder. He grunts, you whimper. It's a tandem of back and forth, a perfect give and take.

It feels like a lifetime, but a lifetime you'd never give back. He sees how wet you are, how you're beginning to drip off the edge of the chair. He snarls and walks to you, taking you by your hair he guides you to the floor and slips his cock between your lips, pressing to the back of your throat. He lets out a heavy groan.

Like a good girl, you take all of his cock, your tongue swirling around as he uses you like a little sex doll, fucking your face. He pulls you back, strings of spit from your mouth to his cock still connected as he slaps you across the face and shoves his cock down your throat again. Your eyes water and your breathing through your nose becomes heavy, and he does it again. Pulls you from his cock, slaps your face and brings your mouth back to his cock, and proceeds to fuck your throat and mouth, his grip on your hair tight it pulls at your scalp. Your moans and whimpers echo and vibrate through him and you as he uses your head to pleasure himself.

"Finger yourself." He snarls

You begin to do just that, your fingers working yourself as your mouth is being used. He smirks looking down at you before he's had enough of using your face he throws you back onto the floor and stands over you.

"Keep going." He demands.

And you do, you don't question him.

"Yes Sir." You state. Again, no question.

He's officially lost all control, at this point you both have. He works his cock faster, and you're watching every bit of it while you're moaning loudly just slightly below him as you work your bud, driving your fingers as deep as you can, feeling your wetness. You want to finish, you're right there, you almost cannot contain that hot explosion between your legs.

"No girl, you gotta beg for that finish." He states.

"Please, please let me cum" You plead.

He shakes his head. "Not yet... keep going... faster." He demands.

A soft whimper escapes your lips as you work yourself faster, you arch slightly your toes curled under you. You're rocking back and forth your hips buckle.

"Please... please Sir... I want to cum. Can I please. Please." You beg.

He looks down at you as he works his cock, and he feels his own eruption on the rise. He looks down at you and smirks.

"Open up." He states.

Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out flat and you begin to taste those hot wet ribbons as he releases against your tongue, and over your face.

"Come on... Cum for me." He growls as he continues his facial finish.

You let out a heavy moan, a loud breathy gasp as your body begins to tremble. His cock tapped against your tongue as if saying he was finished with his finish. He watches you shake, almost a pleasure convulsion. You begin to giggle, swallowing what was in your mouth, and cleaning up your face. Licking it from your fingers.

"Thank you." you muse.

He looks over you and smiles. "No, thank you." he chuckles as he puts himself away.

Moving toward you, he scoops you up places you on the pool table, and looks over your face. He moves a moment and grabs a bottle of water from the bar fridge, and a clean, rag, getting it cool, he moves back toward you. Wiping your face, and neck, he starts to wipe you off and smiles handing you the water bottle.

"So I have a question." He states.

"Yes Sir?" you ask.

"How about you be my Old Lady... my ride or die... my one and only. My little pet... my little pain slut... my girl." He asked you looking over your face.

You look up at him, and this sense of perfection washes over you as you lean forward and kiss him sweetly. "I've waited a long time for that..."

"So is that a yes?" he asks with a smirk.

Nodding your head you chuckle place your arms around him and pull him in for another kiss. "That's a Yes." you whisper against his lips.

Smirking he presses his lips against yours and wraps his arms around you. Holding you tightly against him he leans back and looks over your face.

"Now, how about I take you back to my place, and show you how I feel inside you..." he smirked.

Nodding your head you chuckle. "Yes please, Sir." you whisper against his lips.

He kisses you again, and helps you get dressed before he takes you to his bike, hands you a helmet, and takes off in the direction of his place.

Everything that happened today, it felt like a dream, but this dream was one you'd remember. Only it wasn't a dream. This was real, and you were about to unlock a new chapter in your life.

[andy-15-07]

A Father's Pride

masterlist ! pairing Feyd-Rautha x reader

SUMMARY : feyd rautha watches how Y/n plays with their child and hears her telling him about their relationship

DUNE Masterlist

Feyd Rautha watched from the doorway, a proud smile tugging at his lips as he observed his wife, Y/n, playing with their young child in the living room. The room was filled with the sound of their child's delighted laughter as Y/n tickled and chased them around the room, her eyes sparkling with joy.

"You're getting faster, little one!" Y/n exclaimed, her voice filled with affection as she scooped up their giggling child in her arms.

Feyd's heart swelled with love as he watched the tender moment between mother and child. He stepped into the room, his presence unnoticed as Y/n continued to play with their child, completely absorbed in the moment.

"You're such a good mother," Feyd murmured, his voice soft with admiration.

Y/n looked up, surprise flickering in her eyes as she saw her husband standing there. A warm smile spread across her face as she approached him, their child still cradled in her arms.

"Feyd, I didn't hear you come in," she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Did you want to join us?"

Feyd nodded, his gaze lingering on their child. "I just wanted to watch for a moment. You two seem to be having so much fun."

Y/n grinned, bouncing their child gently in her arms. "We are. But it's even better when you're here with us."

Feyd's heart swelled with love at her words. He had never imagined he could be so lucky as to have Y/n as his wife and the mother of his child. As they settled down on the couch together, their child nestled between them, Y/n leaned her head against Feyd's shoulder.

"Remember when we first met?" Y/n asked, her voice filled with nostalgia.

Feyd nodded, a fond smile playing on his lips. "How could I forget? You captured my heart from the moment I saw you."

Y/n chuckled, her fingers tracing circles on their child's back. "And you swept me off my feet with your charm and wit."

They reminisced about their early days together, sharing stories of their courtship and the adventures they had shared. Feyd couldn't help but marvel at how far they had come since then—from two strangers brought together by chance to a family bound by love.

"You've given me everything I ever dreamed of and more," Feyd said, his voice filled with emotion.

Y/n smiled, her eyes shining with love. "And you've given me a life I never could have imagined. I'm grateful for every moment we've shared together."

Their child yawned, snuggling closer to them as they settled down for the night. Feyd pressed a kiss to Y/n's forehead, feeling grateful for the love and happiness they had found together.

"I love you, Y/n," Feyd whispered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n leaned into his embrace, her heart overflowing with love. "I love you too, Feyd. More than words can express."

As they sat there together, surrounded by the warmth and love of their family, Feyd felt a sense of peace wash over him. In that moment, he knew that no matter what trials they faced in the future, as long as they were together, they could overcome anything.

And as their child drifted off to sleep in their arms, Feyd couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the precious gift of family that he held in his arms—a gift that he would cherish for the rest of his days.

[lovetwist]

Veil of Deception (I)

SYNOPSIS: In a world where political alliances are forged in blood and treachery lurks around every corner, you find yourself thrust into marriage with Feyd-Rautha, the enigmatic scion of House Harkonnen. Born to be his perfect mate, you grapple with the terrifying prospect of becoming entangled with a man known for his brutality, obsession, and madness. As your union unfolds, you navigate a landscape of deception and dark desires, struggling to find your footing in a marriage fraught with danger and uncertainty. Caught between duty and defiance, summon your strength and resilience to survive in a world where loyalty is a luxury and love is a dangerous game.

WARNINGS (R18+): mildly dub-con, smut, first time, weapons kink, mentions of violence, manipulations, genetic breeding, power play

Word Count: 3.5k

PART 2

Below the towering spires of obsidian and steel, against a backdrop of opulent extravagance that flaunted wealth and power, a tension hung heavy, pregnant with the promise of destiny.

As Lady Atreides, sole daughter of Leto Atreides, you stood poised on the precipice of a meeting that would shape the course of your future. Your heart seized with nerves as you awaited the arrival of your betrothed.

Since your 15th name day, you had known of your engagement to the na-Baron. It was an inescapable fate predetermined by the Bene Geserrit. Your mother, Lady Jessica, had gone against them by giving birth to Paul, a male heir for Leto. Two years later, she gave birth to you – a gift of compromise for both sides. In return, Lady Jessica and Leto achieved the familial harmony they wanted, through the sacrifice of their daughter.

Every year, the Harkonnens requested your portrait to be sent along with a lock of hair. In exchange, they sent House Atreides jewels, gold, silks, and spice; disguised bribes for the upkeep of such a fine lady. They had only sent a portrait of Feyd-Rautha once. It was taken during his coming-of-age ceremony, a lean young man dressed in black fighting leathers. You stared often at the picture, looking to find some clue that could reveal his character. His demeanor was unnaturally cold and collected, yet his dark eyes barely concealed a burning rage. You wondered if Feyd-Rautha poured over you pictures as you did his.

Years passed and the engagement felt more like a false formality than reality. Unlike other noble families, you never exchanged letters with Feyd-Rautha or even met as a courtesy. Having completed your Bene Geserrit training under your mother, you learned that such things did not matter when it came to pairings arranged by the Reverand Mother. You caught whispers of conversation between your mother and her Bene Geserrit sisters. There would be no chance of failure, this union would be perfect. You were genetically engineered to be his absolute mate. Attraction and physical compatibility was assured. Everything about you was designed to lure him in – your scent, your voice, your everything was to be his undoing from the moment he would lay eyes on you.

Yet the thought gave you no confidence as you stood here now in Giedi Prime. Sexual attraction differed greatly from love, he didn’t need emotions to breed you. Feyd-Rautha, the enigmatic scion of House Harkonnen, was a man followed by countless stories of brutality and wickedness. You heard that he laughed when Reverand Mother subjected him to the Gom Jabbar. He didn’t endure pain, he reveled in it.

Your palms grew clammy, breath becoming increasingly shallow as you pondered the dark fate that awaited you in the form of this formidable man. Would Feyd-Rautha be the embodiment of all the whispered sin that had reached your ears, or would he prove to be an enigma beyond your wildest imaginings? With each passing moment, the anticipation mounted, weaving a delicate web of uncertainty around your heart as your braced yourself to meet the man who held your destiny in his hands.

The grand doors of the chamber swung open with a regal flourish, your heart quickened its pace, echoing the rhythm of anticipation that thrummed through the air. Through the gray haze of incense, you beheld Feyd-Rautha, a vision of masculinity and charisma, whose presence seemed to command the very essence of the room. His eyes met yours across the expanse of the chamber, a charged moment filled with unspoken tension, as if the universe itself held its breath in anticipation of this meeting.

You were ensnared in a tempest of conflicting emotions, thoughts swirling like sand caught in a desert storm. You questioned your own composure, wondering if you could maintain the facade of confidence expected of a lady of House Atreides in the presence of the young Harkonnen and the terrifying Baron. Feyd-Rautha may be your future husband, but he was not required to provide you a good nor happy life. After all, why would he? You were the daughter of his family’s sworn enemy. He may have been bound in marriage to you by centuries of bloodline manipulation, but he maintained a free will.

Would his words falter, betraying the tumult and hatred raging within him? Or would he summon the grace and poise befitting his station, masking the turmoil that churned beneath the surface? Your apprehension mounted, a symphony of doubt and fear playing out in the recesses of your mind. Yet, amidst the chaos of your thoughts, a glimmer of determination flickered like a distant star on the horizon, urging you forward into the unknown with a quiet resolve born of necessity.

For in the labyrinthine dance of politics and power that defined their world, you knew that you could ill afford to falter now. With a steadying breath, you squared your shoulders and prepared to face your destiny, whatever form it may take in the guise of a madman husband.

Feyd-Rautha, with an air of effortless confidence, strode forward, his gaze a smoldering ember that ignited a spark within your soul. In that fleeting moment, as your paths converged amidst the darkness and mist of the surroundings, you felt a surge of something unfamiliar yet undeniable—an electric current that crackled between your bodies, binding your fates together inextricably.

Words eluded you as you struggled to articulate the wave of emotions that threatened to consume you. Yet, in the silence that stretched between you two, you found solace in the understanding that this meeting was but the first step on a journey fraught with uncertainty and possibility. He bowed without taking his eyes off you. In greeting, you extended a gloved hand, Feyd-Rautha grasped it with a firm sense of resolve. You knew that your lives were now intertwined in ways neither could fully comprehend nor stop.

And in that moment, amidst the hazy dream of your shared future, you glimpsed the faintest flicker of something akin to desire dance across his eyes. You noticed a dilation of his pupils as he laid a kiss on the back of your hand. Then, his grasp of you tightened and tightened. Your face contorted in pain as a crooked smirk appeared on his features.

In the dim light of the chamber, your eyes traced the contours of his cheekbones and the fullness of his lips, searching for traces of the young man you once memorized in a portrait. Yet, try as you might, only a beast stood before you in the guise of a gentleman. When he stood at his full height with his darkened leer, you held yourself back from cowering. His gaze was vicious, his smile vulgar with blackened teeth, and he exuded an air of savagery.

“How delightful it is to finally meet you, Lady Atreides.”

His deep, raspy voice caught you off guard. What a performer he could be! Long gone was the ethereal allure he displayed when first entering the room, now you could see him for what he was.

“Likewise, my Lord Feyd-Rautha.”

Uncertainty lingered like a specter in the room, casting a pall over the impending union that would bind you with him. You let your gaze lower onto the floor as your parents approached to talk with the Baron and na-Baron.

You could feel his intense gaze burning through your body even as you moved away to be with your brother. Could his eyes pierce through your facade, unraveling the intricacies of your soul like fine thread? Such questions gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, casting shadows on your will to remain strong.

As the evening progressed, the tension in the air thickened like a fog, suffocating any semblance of ease. Seated at the long banquet table surrounded by your family, the Harkonnens, and noble guests, you found yourself ensnared in a delicate dance of propriety and peril.

Across from you, Feyd-Rautha lounged in his seat, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he watched you with unabashed fascination. His demeanor was that of a predator toying with its prey, his every movement calculated to instill a sense of discomfort. Your family would leave to Arrakis after the wedding festivities, then you would be truly left alone with him. The precariousness of your position tugged at your heart.

As the meal commenced, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense, punctuated by the clinking of silverware and the strained chatter of polite conversation. You forced yourself to engage in small talk with those seated around you, your words measured and careful, lest you betray the fear that coiled like a serpent in the pit of your stomach.

Despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of composure, you couldn't shake the feeling of being scrutinized by those dark, probing eyes. It was as if Feyd-Rautha could see straight through you, peeling away the layers of pretense to expose your most secret vulnerabilities. You found yourself growing increasingly unsettled. You longed to escape, to retreat to the safety of your chambers and away from the suffocating presence of the Harkonnen heir.

But you knew that there would be no reprieve, no sanctuary from the darkness that had descended upon your life like a shadow. For tonight, and every night thereafter, you were bound to him by the cruel machinations of fate, condemned to walk a path fraught with danger and uncertainty. And as you raised your glass to Feyd-Rautha’s toast to your impending union, you couldn't help but wonder what horrors awaited you.

“To the most beautiful bride in the world, I will certainly savor tomorrow’s…memories.”

The men at the table chuckled darkly while your father’s and brother’s jaws clenched. You lay your delicate hand over theirs, do not mourn me. If I am to die, I shall do so with honor.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

As your mother lowered your veil, you noticed tears forming in her eyes. You never thought you’d live to see the day the impenetrable Lady Jessica shed tears for you. I must really be walking into my death, you thought.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror. There were no words to describe the vision you saw. Crafted from the finest silk and satin, your wedding gown exuded an air of majestic elegance with flowing skirts cascading like waves of moonlight around your figure.

The bodice, adorned with intricate beadwork and delicate lace, hugged your curves with a tailored precision, accentuating a slender waist and graceful neckline. A row of tiny diamonds trailed down your body, gleaming against the smooth expanse of your back. While the front of the dress was conservative, your back was tastefully exposed through a combination of sheer silk, diamonds and pearls.

Your hair was pinned neatly into a bun with a delicate braid on each side. The veil was gauzy, making your face seem like a daydream. The ivory fabric of your dress pooled at your feet in a sea of frothy tulle and satin, forming a train that trailed behind you like a regal cloak. The wedding dress was embroidered with delicate motifs of growing vines, mountains and ocean waves – a reminder of Caladan.

At your collar, a border of intricate lacework added a touch of timeless elegance, its patterns catching the light in a dazzling display of shimmering beauty. With every movement, the gown seemed to whisper tales of romance and splendor, a clear hope to the love and devotion the seamstress had prayed you’d find. You choked down a sob.

You’ve made me an angel for him to ruin.

The wedding hall was adorned with such grandeur, you’d expect the emperor’s daughter was getting married instead. The flickering silver torches cast dancing shadows upon the ebony stone walls. As guests gathered in hushed reverence, the air crackled with anticipation, as if the very walls themselves whispered of your impeding damnation.

At the front of the hall, beneath a canopy of arched black silk, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen stood, an imposing figure in his ceremonial garb. His porcelain skin was stark against the darkness of his clothes as he awaited his bride.

You approached with measured steps, hardening your grip on your father’s arm. Your eyes must’ve betrayed your fear and resignation because you could see Feyd-Rautha biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a laugh.

As you reached the altar, his lips curled into a predatory smile, his voice dripping with malice as he spoke the vows that bound you together in unholy matrimony. The words echoed through the hall like a curse, sealing your fate alongside his.

As you exchanged rings, a union forged in the fires of despair, you vowed that though your body may be bound to Feyd-Rautha, your spirit would remain forever free.

Standing before him, you felt the weight of his gaze like chains around your soul.

With a solemn nod from the officiant, you and Feyd-Rautha were instructed to seal your union with a kiss. He removed your veil, his eyes lingering on your face. As his lips met yours, a shiver ran down your spine.

The kiss was surprisingly gentle, but devoid of love. You gasped when his tongue entered your mouth. It was a macabre dance of dominance and submission, a twisted mockery of affection that left a bitter taste upon your lips. You try to push him away, but he holds your hands firm against his chest. The Harkonnens roar with applause and laughter. As you pulled away, a sense of profound emptiness washed over you, a hollow echo of the dreams and desires that had once burned within your heart.

The rest of the wedding banquet was a blur. As you were led to the high table by Feyd-Rautha's side, you couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped, ensnared in a web of malevolence. The guests, mostly Harkonnen allies, noble families, and sycophants, feigned smiles and exchanged whispers, their eyes gleaming with a perverse curiosity at the spectacle of your union.

The feast itself was a decadent display of excess, with platters of exotic delicacies and goblets overflowing with rich wines. But the opulence only served to accentuate the suffocating atmosphere, as the room was closing in on you with each additional piece of ornate furniture.

Feyd-Rautha, ever the consummate host, played his part with calculated charm, his laughter ringing hollow in your ears as he regaled the guests with tales of conquest and murder. You watched him from across the table, his features twisted in a mask of false benevolence, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of revulsion mingled with a sliver of pity. He, too, was playing a part – ever the performer. 

Throughout the banquet, you were subjected to the leering gazes and whispered innuendos of the Harkonnen cronies, their crude remarks slicing through the thin veneer of civility like daggers. But you held your composure, steeling yourself against their taunts and jeers, refusing to let them see the cracks in your mask.

As the night wore on and the wine flowed freely, the mood grew increasingly raucous, the revelry descending into a frenzied ecstasy. You found yourself adrift in a sea of faces, each one a grotesque caricature of humanity, their laughter and applause a cruel mockery of your predicament.

And amidst the chaos and debauchery, you couldn't help but wonder what was in store for you, chained to a man whose heart was as black as midnight. As you absentmindedly finished your last sip of wine, Feyd-Rautha stood suddenly, his chair loudly rattling against the granite floors. A chilling silence descended upon the hall.

He extended a hand towards you and you immediately understood his intentions. You departed the hall, hand-in-hand as men watched with envy and women stared with pity. You couldn’t bear to look at the faces of your family, afraid that you might beg them to take you home.

---------------------------------------------------------------

As you left the banquet hall with Feyd-Rautha, a heavy sense of foreboding settled over you. The echoes of the evening's macabre festivities lingered in your mind, each laughter, each lewd jest, a reminder of the gilded cage in which you now found yourself imprisoned.

You walked beside Feyd-Rautha, his grip firm upon your hand, guiding you through the labyrinthine corridors of the Harkonnen estate. There was an eerie stillness in the air. With each step, you felt the weight of your predicament pressing down upon you, the reality of your situation sinking in like a cold, unyielding truth.

You stole a glance at Feyd-Rautha, his expression unreadable in the dim light. Occasionally fireworks would alight by the window, allowing you to see his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger that made you look away immediately.

As you walked in silence, your mind raced with a flurry of thoughts and emotions, a storm raging within you. You couldn't help but wonder what awaited in the bedchamber. You weren’t ignorant to the act of consummating a marriage, but your husband was no ordinary man. What horrors lay in store for a woman bound to a man as cruel and cunning as Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen… what would satisfy a man like him? But amidst the fear and uncertainty, a flicker of desire burned within you, a stubborn resolve to claim him as much as he claims you.

He led you into a large room with double doors. Compared to the gaudy decorations of the wedding hall, this room was relatively simple: a chamber of dark elegance and understated grandeur. There were only the bare necessities required of a bedroom, but each piece had been impeccably handmade with the most exquisite of materials. At its center, a massive four-poster bed stands as the focal point, its frame crafted from polished ebony wood, intricately carved with motifs of serpents and ivy. Perfectly sized above the bed, stretching over the ceiling was pure reflective glass. You swallowed thickly, this man had no shame.

A grand chandelier hangs from the center of the ceiling, its crystals casting prismatic rays of light across the room, illuminating the space with a haunting allure.

The walls are lined with dark, navy paneling, adorned sparingly with antique tapestries depicting scenes of forgotten battles and dangerously sharpened weapons. A sleek, black writing desk sits nearby, stacked with books on war strategies and adorned with quill and parchment.

A sense of regal simplicity pervades the space, each element carefully curated to its master. This is a sanctuary of solitude, where one can retreat from the heaviness of the Harkonnen world and immerse themselves in the embrace of peace.

Busy admiring the room, you didn’t notice Feyd-Rautha locking the doors behind you. You tensed when you suddenly felt the coldness of a blade against your back. With one precise slice, he cut your wedding dress open leading all the decorative pearls to fall to the ground. Your hands instinctively went to cover yourself, but his newfound grip on your wrists was even faster.

“You are mine now, pet.” His hands slowly guided yours down as he ripped away the rest of your dress. “Do not resist me, I want to see you in all your beauty.”

Your face flushed as you looked away from him. You knew objecting to his wish was futile, perhaps if you appeased him then he’d be gentler. You learned this was a useless thought the moment you saw his expression – raw, animalistic hunger chipped away at the edges of his sanity. His pupils dilated so wide that his eyes became monochromatic orbs of obsidian.

He removed his own clothes with swift and lithe movements, revealing pure sculpted muscle. Through the rapid rise and fall of his chest, you could see that he was barely holding back his lust. Feyd-Rautha was going to devour you without leaving a single morsel for the world.

“I-I… If you hurt me, I will scream.”

“Go ahead, it’ll only stroke my ego if you do. Scream loud enough for the whole banquet to hear. Let them know what pleasures your husband bestows upon you.”

With each step he took towards you, you took two steps back. When you felt the bed come into contact with the back of your knees, you realize you’ve been trapped.

“Lie down.” he commanded.

Sensing the tonal shift in his voice, you obeyed. You felt his long, slender fingers enter your most intimate place. When he curved against your inner wall, you let out an involuntarily moan – which he quickly swallowed from your lips. You had touched yourself before, but only rarely during occasions when you couldn’t sleep and the moon was hanging high.

However, this was different – he was different. His fingers reached places where yours never could. Your body made lewd sounds as he pumped in and out of you with torturous speed. The way you grind against his hand was indecent, but he rewarded you with such sweet friction. Hearing his low pants against your ear, you couldn't help but writhe into his touch. When you came undone, he smirked and licked your essence from his fingers.

Before you could catch your breath, he was on top of you again; caging you between his toned arms. He reached out to grasp your chin before roughly crashing his lips down on yours. The kiss was all-consuming, he was drinking in every part of you without letting you breathe. Your eyes wandered down to where his member stood unnaturally stiff and enlarged. Your new husband sneered at your expression before his right hand circled around your throat.

“Your throat… it shall be my axis tonight.”

[ab4eva]

‘The Three of Us’

-

Fully co-authored with: @therealslimshakespeare

Thanks to: My incomparable co-author & sweetheart Marina, for being willing to follow this rabbit hole with me and explore this little trio! And for the gorgeous mood board and vibes, I’m obsessed. And to Ashley, for being the best damn cheerleader we could ask for. ♥️

Warnings: All the sex, 18+ only

Word count: 8k

-

Sometimes in Hollywood, magic happens behind the scenes - in a dark corner of Bar Lubitsch or a little poolside bungalow at the Chateau Marmont. Things that are only whispered about in certain circles or sent to Deuxmoi with the stipulation of “anon please.” The blurry flash of a hand, littered with telltale rings, on her Instagram story. The paparazzi photos of a drunken night out before the three of them disappeared into the balmy Los Angeles evening. The fandom set ablaze by rumors as they combed over every sign, every possibility, every look that they took for god’s honest truth. A myth in the making, never confirmed, never denied.

When a ballsy journalist had the gumption to ask Callum about the rumors some months down the road, he just grinned his Cheshire smile and shook his head, the slightest blush hinting at the corners of his already ruddy cheeks.

“Nah, mate, can’t believe everyfing you read in Hollywood, can ya.” A statement, no trace of question in his ice blue eyes as he licked his cherry lips and stared the journalist down, daring them to dig deeper. His heart may have started pounding a little too hard but only he knew that. Nothing belied the steely gaze he turned on the journalist - not a flex in his jaw or a slight blink or the whisper of a breath. Needless to say, that journalist had no desire to go toe-to-toe with all six feet two inches of Chelsea’s finest lad. They let the subject drop, though the air had already been sucked out of the tiny interview room. Callum noted with suppressed glee the way the journalist shifted in their seat uncomfortably, trying to regain the upper hand.

Serves ya right, ya wanker, floated through Cal’s head and it took all his energy to focus his thoughts on the next question being asked of him. Now that the taboo subject had been brought up, he couldn’t keep his mind from drifting back towards that fateful night, like the breach in a ship’s hull the memories flooded in. The soft give of her flesh beneath his fingers as he dug them into her hips, needing her closer, closer. The salty taste of Austin’s skin on his tongue as he dragged it slowly across his friend’s collarbone, the streak of wetness left behind shimmering in the moonlight. The mingled sighs and shared breaths, overpowering and heady in that dark little bungalow. That was the night he couldn’t get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. It didn’t matter how many books he read or women he kissed or bloody hikes he took in Runyon Canyon, he was always going back to the night when everything changed.

-

“Didn’t I see you at the Luchino Visconti retrospective a couple nights ago? At the Academy?” The very definition of tall, dark and handsome has just walked in the room, smiling down at you and waiting expectantly for your answer. This is Callum Turner, the new client you’re working with for Masters of the Air press (alongside Austin Butler, your regular client and current boyfriend-adjacent…guy. It’s casual, you’re both keeping it casual. For now.).

“Oh! Were you there? Wasn’t it amazing?” you gush, a little flustered.

“It’s kind of rare to meet another Visconti fan. You must be one of the good ones.” He grins at you, all warmth and puppy dog eagerness. A kindred spirit, an instant connection. You would be very charmed by him, if you weren’t already attached to someone else. Who are you kidding, you’re charmed by him anyway. Talking with him comes easily, and the time flies by as you style his hair, moisturize his skin, add a bit of concealer here and there. He’s funny, sweet, intelligent. Austin has told you a bit about him, about his friend who helped him during one of the most confusing times of his life. But this - this is more than you were expecting. He’s more than you were expecting. And you’re pretty sure he’s flirting with you. When he asks you out for a drink later, you’re absolutely certain. It is with no small amount of regret that you turn him down.

-

The first time you noticed something akin to a spark between the man you’d casually been dating and his co-star was during press interviews for their new television series, Masters of the Air. As Austin and Callum’s groomer and makeup artist, you were allowed a seat at the back of the room, near the video monitors, ready to jump into action if one of Austin’s curls needed to be twisted back into place or if Callum’s nose got too shiny and needed a bit of powder. You glanced up from your phone to see the two of them leaned so close together their shoulders touched, just barely. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Callum’s mouth looked as if it might graze the shell of Austin’s ear, a smirk playing at the edges, as his dark, curly head bent conspiratorially towards his friend’s blonde one. Silly boys, you thought, smiling to yourself as you watched them. You’d seen that look on Austin’s face before…it was almost one of… adoration.

Without warning your mind flashed back to last night, Austin gazing up at you through your thighs, a look of devotion on his face, his sandy hair ruffled and his eyes slightly dazed. The very same look that he’s now turned on Callum… Nah… You laughed at yourself quietly and shook your head to clear your thoughts, silently scolding yourself. You’d been reading too many spicy novels recently and clearly your imagination was running wild. It made sense that he and Callum were close. Austin had been lost as a newborn calf without a mother after Elvis had wrapped and Masters of the Air had started filming. A brotherhood, that’s what Austin had called it. And Callum had been his right hand man. And that’s all, you were sure. Pretty sure.

-

Bar Lubitsch is dim and noisy, crowded with cast and crew of Masters for an impromptu celebration while so many of them are in town. Austin hasn’t been here in years, always remembered it being a good time. He wants to show you and Callum a good time, after all the hard work you three have been putting in for press the past couple of weeks. That was two hours and three drinks ago, and you watch them now from your perch at the bar and how much they feed each other’s souls, like displaced brothers, reunited after years apart. The evening is starting to shift and blur, so many drinks and people and noise and singing. You never knew Callum loved to sing so much, until he was singing karaoke at the top of his lungs and the whole bar was gathered around the little stage in the back room, jumping to the beat while he sang the most risqué lyrics right to Austin, like they were the only two people in the room:

Even when the cold comes crashing through

I'm putting all my bets on you

I hope they never understand us

I put my heart inside your palms

My home in your arms

Now we know nothing matters

Nothing matters

And you can hold me like he held her

And I will fuck you like nothing matters

You’re not sure you’ll ever be over Callum pinching Austin’s cheeks, channeling his inner Egan, and singing right at him with drunken gusto while Austin is too tipsy to remember not to bask in it and it’s probably the cutest, and hottest, thing you’ve ever seen. It’s only afterwards that you start to feel a tiny flicker of jealousy. There’s something between them, a connection that time and distance hasn’t untethered. Later, you drag Austin into one of the faded velvet booths, snuggling up to him as he pulls you into a one-armed embrace, kissing your temple with glassy eyes and a crooked smile. His heady mix of sweat and cologne mingle, along with the alcohol, and suddenly you’re lightheaded. Not to mention the fact that his soft lips have seemed to have move, with lightning speed, from your temple to your neck. You gently push him away, and he gives you a questioning look but you need to see his face when you ask him this.

“Hey…what’s going on with Callum? Because, it’s clearly something? And whatever it is, it’s ok, really it is…but…I do have eyes, Austin,” you blurt out, biting your lip. You see a dozen different emotions cross his features, like a movie playing out in real time - surprise, guilt, defensiveness, longing, acceptance. His face goes all red and he leans his head back, his tan throat open and inviting, his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down as he swallows thickly. It takes everything in you not to kiss him right this second.

“It’s…complicated. Kind of,” he sighs as he stares up at the ceiling and you can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it and that’s answer enough for you. You don’t push him further as you quietly turn his mouth to yours and make him forget anything and everyone but you.

-

“Come on Aus, it’ll be just like old times,” Cal goads drunkenly, placing a proprietary hand on Austin’s belly, his words laden with meaning and a hint of pleading. It’s not like he’s missed Austin or anything…not like that. Not that he’d admit anyway, hell no. Couldn’t two dudes have a consensual thing and not be weird about it? It must be liquid courage that made him suggest it aloud. That and the fact Austin keeps looking at him like he hung the damn moon.

“Swear you’ll shut up? If I say yes, will you just…chill?” Austin’s eyes are trained on you and it takes everything in him to play it cool, keep a calm head. Cal’s hand is still on Austin’s stomach and he starts to pet him, just above the belt and it makes Austin lurch in sudden need. He licks his lips, they’re suddenly parched, and swallows hard. He hears Cal snicker softly in his ear.

“Now, see, as I recall, you wouldn’t stop asking me to keep sayin’ shit last time.” Callum’s voice floats above the music, scratchy from gin and karaoke, hot breath tickling the shell of Austin’s ear. His hand moves to squeeze Austin’s neck, and if Austin didn’t know any better he’d swear it was a subconscious power move, Callum trying to literally bend Austin to his will. There’s an all too familiar twitch down Austin’s pant leg, and oh god he wishes- he thought, he was so sure, he was past that phase of responding like one of Pavlov’s dogs to Callum’s adoration and teasing.

Maybe it’s just the notion, his suggestion. That’s what’s suddenly making Austin’s blood feel hot and his eyes hazy, it’s the idea of her…and him! But mostly her, just her, and sharing her and- None of that explains the way he wants to bend to that firm hand squeezing in drunken cajoling at the base of his neck, makes him want to knock noses and yank at the stupid collar of Callum’s sweater until there’s collarbones to see and a draft under the wool. This is winter in Los Angeles, heating inside is state of the art, there’s no reason for such coziness and it’s making the man sweat and all Austin can think of from the smell is memories of an English summer, worn out and floating in his own body, biting down on Callum’s upper arm, tangy, sweaty flesh to keep an awfully strange escapade quiet.

That does it. What is he even thinking? He must’ve drank more than he realized but then, oh god, there Cal goes, throwing his hands up in defeat, shrugging his shoulders like a kid caught trying to push his luck. The arm around his shoulder is suddenly gone, and he’d give anything to have it back again. He shakes his head - he really must’ve had too much to drink. It was making him melancholy and sobering him up fast. Funny how alcohol will do that to you.

“Scouts honor, Butler, I’ll-I’ll-I’ll,” he seems to search the ceiling in drunken concentration for the correct wording most likely to open the doors to the kingdom, “I’ll be- it’ll be: HER, YOU and a um, uh mannequin. How ‘bout that, mate? Good enough for ya? You’d probably like that, wouldn’t ya? Ya little freak!” He lands a playful right hook to Austin’s jaw, hard knuckles digging into soft cheeks.

The usually inflammatory epithet of ‘freak’, coming as it does from a man begging for a threesome with himself and his girl, is nothing short of rabidly complementary. Callum’s shit-eating, triumphant grin could light up the whole damn room in this moment. He knows he’s got Austin right where he wants him and starts to count down silently in his head - three…two…

Austin finds himself grinning, a warning, measured thing but a condoning of the sentiment all the same.

“One,” Cal says out loud, his arm going back around Austin’s shoulders, squeezing so hard Austin winces a little. It’s a reflective motion then, done almost without thinking, when Austin slaps Callum’s thigh, not realizing there’s a boner bent down that trouser leg. A wounded hiss leaves Callum’s lips as he caves in on himself a little bit and Austin freezes, his face turning crimson and he feels another twitch down his own trousers.

“Steady on mate,” Callum coughs, shaking a leg, trying to discreetly readjust. “And I thought I was the eager beaver here.” Austin wants to wipe that smirk right off Callum’s smug little face but the moment their eyes meet they can’t help but start to laugh. Giggles, really, which turn into loud guffaws that has the whole bar turning to see what the commotion is about.

Your head whips around at the sound you’ve grown to know well over the past few weeks, the loud and boisterous laughter of two friends who seem forget that anyone else exists when they’re together. You spot them, huddled close as they always seem to be, and shake your head. A grin tugs at your lips and threatens to spill out the feelings fluttering around in your chest, no your stomach, no…somewhere else, lower. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about the two of them…together. Sometimes you’re with them, sometimes you’re not, in these little fantasies of yours. You catch yourself biting your lip and staring at them a little too longingly. You wonder what they’re saying now, both of them look flustered and awkward, just slightly. You can actually feel the tension rolling off of them in waves from where you stand across the bar.

Austin chooses that moment to look up and catch your eye. There’s a fire in his gaze that wasn’t there earlier and what is that look on his face? You’ve never seen it before…shy and almost…guilty? He looks just like a little boy who’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Your eyes question him across the dim bar, an unspoken tether ties you together wherever you are, and uncertainty about the deal he’s just struck with Callum comes creeping in. What has gotten into him? He’s just agreed to share you, with another man. And not just any man, one he has a rather interesting history with. The thought of Callum touching you, kissing you, fucking you…suddenly he’s stone cold sober and beginning to regret letting Cal sway his decision. Because there sure as hell won’t be any take backs, not with Callum. He’s like a dog with a bone once he gets what he wants.

-

“Dude no, there’s chemical flavoring in there, that shit’s bad for you and it’ll give her irritation!” Austin looks slightly perturbed, not for the first time this evening. He sways slightly under the florecent lights of the drugstore, the constant buzzing adding to the pounding in his head.

“What if it’s not intended to go on her? Hmm? Thought of that Butler?” Callum murmurs under his breath, his eyes focused solely on the lube he’s holding, a pink blush creeping up his neck to his ears. Has a blush under drugstore fluorescents ever looked so lovely? And Austin hasn’t stopped biting that lower lip since you walked into this place. It hasn’t stopped him from grinning, though, his excitement bubbling through in little ticks and tells, the nervous turning over of the vaseline jar in his large hands.

“You haven’t even bought me dinner Cal, just straight to the flavored lube,” Austin bemoans, faking offense. “’Sides, she’s already sweet enough, aren’t you baby? I’ve had my fair share of licks,” Austin’s shoulder bumps yours as he sends you a smoldering look, his eyes flickering down your body briefly before his cheeks turn a slight rosy color you can see blooming up from his chest through his open shirt collar.

“Austin!” you hiss, slapping his arm playfully and hiding your face in his neck, embarrassed.

“Leave it to you two twig Bettie’s and we’d be down to nothin’ but socks and coconut oil,” Cal snarks, not at all inaccurately.

“I don’t remember you minding coconut oil last time,” Austin says under his breath, clearly meant for Callum’s ears only, but you manage to catch it, and your heart starts to pound at the implied meaning.

“Mmm, and it was bitter so - mojito,” Callum says decidedly, leaving no room for argument. Austin smiles at you, lifting his shoulder in a shrug and rolling his eyes heavenward. You giggle nervously, wondering for the first time just what you’re getting yourself into.

“I saw that! Listen mate, feel free to shut me up at any time. This would do nicely, ya reckon?” Callum lifts a silk sleeping mask with one, long finger and swings it around seductively, waggling his eyebrows up and down comically. You laugh and the butterflies making a home in your ribcage start to settle down again.

-

The whimpers emanating from between your parted lips take you by surprise and you promptly shut your mouth, unexpectedly embarrassed to be mewling so wantonly. You bite your lip as it becomes harder and harder to hold them in with every slow thrust of Austin’s velvety cock filling you, his swollen tip hitting just the right spot, and every flick of Callum’s tongue as he laves at your tender little clit with vigor. You feel Austin tense slightly beneath you as Cal swirls his tongue down to your opening to lap at where you and Austin join, sloppy and wet. A soft moan floats past your left ear, Austin’s hot breath sending a shiver through you, and it seems to invigorate Callum as he doubles down on his efforts to have his tongue cover as much surface area as possible. He chuckles and it jolts through you as your back arches, your fingers finding his dark curls and yanking him closer, demanding something you aren’t even aware of. He understands what you need even if you don’t and as his lips close around your sensitive bud you can no longer keep quiet, keening softly. You practically buck off of Austin’s lap and his arm tightens around your waist to keep you in place. The harder Callum sucks, the more Austin starts to whine - you’ve gotten so tight around him he can hardly thrust.

“Oh fuck, what’re you doing? Cal…what…” you slur as you pull at his hair, trying to dislodge him from your clit. You feel him grin against your heat as he slowly slips two fingers in you, resting them alongside Austin’s length. You hiss at the stretch and Austin starts to pick up his pace again. Your head is too hazy with pleasure to register fully what is happening as Callum gently slides another finger in next to the first two. His mouth works your clit, sucking and pulling, harder then soft again.

“More…more more more,” you beg hoarsely. You feel as if you might fly away and the only thing anchoring you to earth are these two men and their hands and their mouths on your body. Callum cocks an eyebrow at you and his eyes shift to Austin. You feel him nod, barely, and then another burning stretch as Cal slips his pinkie in next to his other fingers. It drives you insane and you feel yourself clenching and coming, harder than you can ever remember. You stop breathing for a moment, your mind going numb with rapture as you come apart at the seams.

“Oh fuck,” Austin whispers, biting your shoulder, his hand absentmindedly palming your breasts, pinching your hardened nipple. “Come on baby, I know you’ve got more, give us another one. Cal, can’t thrust with you in there…give me some room, huh?”

Callum let’s go of your clit with a wet pop and gently slides his fingers out. His nose and chin are shiny with your juices, even his eyebrows look a little damp and he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Go on then, Butler, show us what you got.” He stands, knees popping as he does. From up here he can see your faces clearly, yours and Austin’s. He watches, rapt, as Austin nuzzles your neck, nipping at your earlobe as he speeds up his thrusts, toying with your nipples mercilessly. Your eyes flutter closed and your head drops back onto his shoulder. Callum shakes his head, dazed and pussy drunk - why was he on his knees so long?? He coulda been watching this the whole time? But he knows why- fresh, homegrown pussy. And he means to have his fill. He can’t take being on the sidelines, watching Austin move in and out of you at a punishing pace, having all the fun. One of Callum’s massive palms descends onto your clit, slapping and rubbing cruelly, back and forth, faster and faster. And then you’re gushing everywhere, all over Callum’s hand and Austin’s cock and the bed, soaking everything.

“Come on then girl, give us all you’ve got,” Cal encourages, his raspy voice driven to the point of hoarseness. He grabs his painfully hard, throbbing cock and roughly starts to slap your clit. You gasp, jerking in Austin’s arms as you fall apart again. And then Callum gets a thought, because his dick is doing most of the thinking just now, and it’s been sadly neglected thus far. He’s just had four fingers in you and now you’re literally flinging droplets with each swipe, it’s a goddamn swamp down there it’s so wet. He slows his slaps and starts to rub soft circles against your clit, stopping every once in a while to try your entrance gently, just to see. You moan breathlessly and his heart speeds up as he looks at Austin questioningly.

“I recognize that gleam in your eye, Turner…spit it out,” Austin says in a slightly strangled voice.

“Think you can take us both, angel? At the same time?” Callum directs his question to you, ignoring Austin.

You can’t take your poor abused clit getting ground on anymore, it’s just too intense, anything to give it a break. You nod your head so fast he thinks it might fly off. Your trembling little hand reaches down with disjointed begs of “Put it in baby, put it, please Cal, it’s burning.”

Your sloppy wet pussy hole visibly clenches with a tiny space of room left each time Austin digs in. Callum drunkenly wonders if they should have a medical professional on standby for this sorta shit, like it’s gotta be a crime to wedge two boys into a girl, especially when Butler’s packing like that. But your whine suggests you need it and he’d really like to not be left out. FOMO -that’s what he’ll blame when he’s driving the ambulance or else coming down from the craziest high he’s ever had with a pool of cum drying on his belly.

Austin goes still as a statue under you and drags your sweaty hair across to the other shoulder so he can really see your face and ask, “You sure? Baby, talk to me, you really wanna try?” His hand gently grips your chin, forcing you to focus on his eyes, his question.

“I’ll die if I don’t have you both,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper, but Austin still looks concerned and slightly perturbed. Is the girl he knows even in there? But you want something, you want this and he’ll be dammed if he doesn’t give you anything you want that’s within his power to give. And if there’s one thing he loves about you it’s your love of a challenge. He bites his cheek, trying not to blow his load over your sweet determination.

“Ok ok.” Austin takes a deep, steadying breath, kissing your wet temple and gives Callum a very familiar look of admonishment and also trust in his good intentions. “Careful, man, really careful,” he instructs as Callum nods his silent assent.

“No safe words, just if somebody says stop we stop, ok?” Austin’s starting to pant, as he can feel the poofy mushroom head of Cal’s cock brushing his sack at your entrance. “Anybody who says stop,” he clarifies, half thinking he might be the first to wimp out and do it.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course.” Cal actually looks sober as fuck except for the sheen of sweat that always seems to come with his pints and somehow the eye contact he makes lights a fire in Austin’s belly.

“I might say no,” you squeak, “I won’t mean it though, just a heads up. I’ll say stop- if I need to stop.”

“No?” Cal laughs nervously. “That might make me feel a little…bad,” he admits, still rubbing maddening circles around where Austin’s been practically cockwarming you for ages.

“Stop getting all existential and give her what she wants, man,” Austin rebuts.

“It’ll make me feel bad if she says no,” Cal blurts, running a hand through his already messy hair.

“Then I’ll do it.” Austin’s voice is rough in your ear and your nipples harden into peaks as he gently pulls out of you and pats the bed. “Tell Cal to lay his big ass self down.”

You giggle as Callum dives onto the bed, bouncing for a moment until he settles, turning over onto his back, head propped on a lazy forearm. He pats his meaty thighs and you roll your eyes but can’t deny the flip flop your stomach does at the thought of those thighs and what a nice cradle they’ll make while you’re railed within an inch of you’re life. And then you’re hovering over him, Cal kneading your hip encouragingly while running an admiring hand up and down your spine, like you’re a skittish horse in need of calming. You hesitate, momentarily unsure, but Austin nods at you reassuringly from the foot of the bed and ever the gentleman, gives you his hands to hold as you sink slowly down on Callum. Though his gentlemanly hands are gripping yours tightly, his eyes are glued to your pussy taking every inch of uncut Brit cock that he’s maybe gagged on once.

“Earth to Butler!” comes from behind you because Austin’s zoned out a little and it’s been a hot minute and you’re somewhat situated now.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, uh, ok, ok…”

Cal snickers before crunching up behind you, his chest hot against your back as he wraps his arms around you. “You feel lovely, darlin’, wanna lay back wif’ me? Don’t mind him, he’s lost it. Always goes a bit soft in the head around a pretty pussy or my cock.”

It’s a lot from this position and laying back against Callum’s chest is intense. You feel like he’s fully in your belly and it stretches your womb over him. He feels different…his isn’t as wet as Austin’s little water fountain but it throbs more noticeably, sending little shocks of pleasure through you. Cal pets your belly soothingly and spreads your pussy lips for Austin to really get a look at. You whine and squirm, realizing again the want for more. Those fingers dabbling at your entrance, threatening to push inside you once more and that’s when Austin breaks, recalling that’s what he and his cock are here for.

“Yeah, ok, ok, present and accounted for. Move your hand,” he murmurs, swiping Cal’s hand away. He thumbs at you himself for a bit, just to be sure and to watch as Cal loses his cool facade for a second when you clench tightly around him.

“Still sure about this, baby?” He asks one more time as he’s pressing at the ring and the burn has you bracing. You feel Cal’s hand move from your waist to your thigh, behind your knee, cupping it and dragging it wide, spreading you apart before you’ve even said your piece. The vote of confidence does you good and you take a deep breath, nodding once, decisively.

“Then put me in, angel,” Austin tells you, fat cockhead already snagged in but there’s a little ripple in his hard cock from the resistance of the tight space. Steeling yourself, you reach down and wrap your fingers around him, tugging him closer and slowly feeding his thickness into you alongside Cal’s, who starts thrashing his head and moaning at the drag like he’s the one getting breached.

“Good girl, good girl, please more…know you can take more.” Cal’s begging for cock by proxy and it alters your brain somehow. Austin’s too, he puts his hips into the effort and soon he’s gotten past the muscles at your command and into the threshold where you can’t manage to push him out if you tried. It makes you panic a little, but Cal is softly shushing in your ear, a distracting thumb stroking behind your knee, other freckled hand mauling a tit and begging you to take more cock so he can get friction.

“She can take it, come on, Austin,” he vouches for you, a little self promotion as you can’t even form words right now. Somewhere about six inches in your vocabulary consists of yelped little “fuck’s”and whimpering “I cant’s”.

Austin caresses your cheek, commanding you to look at him, his blue eyes focused in on yours, “That’s it baby, just a little more. You’re doing so good for us… such a good girl.”

Callum grab’s Austin’s shoulder and brings him fully deeper, which is all well and good when Austin kisses your forehead and insists raggedly, “You are doing it, baby.”

When he finally pushes in that last little bit, you lose any control you thought you had, instantly coming from the stretch and threatening to push Austin out. But he presses nothing less than his full weight on you, keeping you in place and himself snug inside next to Callum. You gasp for air and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, clinging to him. Austin tries to remember to breathe and promptly forgets how when he makes eye contact with Callum for the first time since being balls deep.

“Are you -is that you…twitching?”

“Woulda thought you’d remember that,” Callum smirks. “Coulda sworn I recall you saying something about it jumping like a live wire in your hand?”

“Christ, well it feels different all…snuggled up next to mine,” Austin grits out, coloring slightly.

After a moment or two, when breath has been regained and a few laughs shared and some semblance of sanity restored in right spaces, Cal starts to pepper every inch of your neck and cheeks in kisses. Now that he’s not so desperate he’s become utterly grateful for you, for this. The kisses turn into sloppy, wet groans in your ear as Austin begins to move and Cal’s hand is gripping your jaw, his eyes locked on Austin, your legs thrown wide over his thighs, spread to the max and he’s a perfect recliner. He throws his other arm across your chest in a loving armbar, holding you still on top of him, “So Butler can get a rhythm, baby.”

Austin looms above you both, finding his pace, measured and steady. His beautiful face is flushed full of awe and there’s a heat in his gaze you’ve never seen before. He puts his hand on Callum’s shoulder for leverage, long fingers digging into freckled flesh and Cal promptly lays a little smooch on Austin’s forearm with a cheeky grin. Austin’s eyes shift and change, become a deeper blue and an expression you can’t read flits across his face as he jabs a particularly hard thrust into you. Callum starts to whimper and squirm when he realizes Austin’s thrusts are rubbing him too well, and it's not just you who’s getting their spot hit - that spot being his foreskin being drug back and forth in maddening little drags.

“Y’all like that? Feel good?” Austin growls lowly, rhythmic thrusts pushing you and Callum deeper into the fluffy white sheets, both of your whimpers combining until you can’t tell who they belong to. Austin groans and drives in harder, his white knuckles gripping Callum’s shoulder hard, while he reserves his tenderest touch for you, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your cheek.

“You’re…enjoying this…” you manage to moan between thrusts. His face splits into a grin as he pushes all the way in, pausing for a moment to kiss you hard, all tongues and teeth and desperation.

“Oh, fuck mate, that’s so good. Oh my god,” Callum babbles. “Right there, fuck, right there. You feel so good.”

“Which one, baby girl? Me or her?” Austin smirks.

For once, Callum has no witty response except the heavy panting in your ear. He squeezes your waist harder and his fingernails indent your hip and it gives you something else to focus on while you catch your breath, a tiny escape from the mind-blowing ecstasy you feel and the slight alarm bells ringing in your head. You can feel Callum somehow expanding and growing inside of you, even bigger than he was before. Austin’s eyes go wide and a look of panic crosses his face - his perfect pink mouth forms a perfect “o”.

“Oh shit, what…why is everything so fucking tight again…what is happening,” Austin groans breathlessly, his mouth set in a determined line, teeth ground together so hard you worry momentarily he might break a tooth. He tightens his grip on Callum’s shoulder and Cal’s massive hand encircles Austin’s delicate wrist, knuckles white as he holds on for dear life.

“Faster…faster,” Cal begs, again and again. “Sorry no, mate it’s, it’s fuckin’ happenin’…oh fuck.” His head cranes forward and you can feel his belly and hips flexing beneath you as he tenses over and over, letting out a hoarse sort of howl as he comes. His warmth fills you and it shakes something loose in your head, your own stomach starting to clench as you grab a handful of Austin’s golden hair, urging him on. Callum’s hands are all over you, petting you everywhere as he starts to come down.

“S’ok I came in ya? Yeah? Good, ‘cause I did,” he whispers hoarsely with a remorseful little laugh, back to babbling to you now that Austin’s got him there. He wipes the sweaty hair from your forehead, tucking a piece of it behind your ear and kisses your neck, whispering encouraging words, “That’s it, babe, give us another one.”

Cal’s bitten off little whimpers spur you on, as his soft cock is trapped in there too, getting pummeled. He’s trying to focus on you, with little pets and murmurs of encouragement but you feel his jaw clench as he grits his teeth, taking the pounding Austin is giving the both of you.

“Got me feelin’ like a proper woman, squealin’ n’ shit, Aus.”

You feel another orgasm build and shake through you, one of the many countless times you’ve fallen apart tonight, but this one stands out. It would bring you to your knees if you were unlucky enough to be standing at this moment. You’re sure it has something to do with knowing you’re satisfying two men at once, Callum having found his release and Austin being close to his. You can tell he’s on the verge by the little signs you’ve grown to recognize over the course of your relationship. The way his forehead creases in between his brows - you’ve kissed it away a dozen times in the heat of the moment. The way his pulse beats on the side of his neck, his vein there popping out and becoming more prominent. The short little huffs of breath he inhales, in quick succession - one, two, three, bam, bam, bam, like three shots straight to your heart. It’s your turn to take care of him, the last one standing after he made sure you and Cal got yours.

“Your turn, baby,” you whisper, pulling his forehead down to meet yours, thumbing at the hollows of his cheeks as he begins to tremble and his thrusts turn sloppy. He kisses you again, sucking on your tongue before moving to latch onto your neck. Cal wraps a hand around Austin’s throat, pushing his head back and squeezing just enough for his eyes to widen and his mouth to pop open. His blue eyes darken and you think he’s going to put his mouth on you again, but he bypasses you and goes straight for Callum’s collarbone, his perfect, white teeth sinking into Callum’s lovely English skin and biting down, hard. Cal yelps but doesn’t let go of Austin’s neck, and that’s when you feel it, your belly filled with warmth again as Austin pulses and twitches inside you, a stuttered moan muffled into the crook of Callum’s shoulder. He collapses on top of you and Callum, completely and utterly spent, the three of you breathing heavily and unable to move for a few moments. You squirm a tiny bit, trying to take a deep breath with one man plastered to your front and another to your back.

Austin gets the hint and lifts himself back up on shaky arms, slipping out of you with a squelch. You gasp one final time, at the sudden loss of him, and a cold emptiness is left where he once filled you to the brim, almost to breaking. The coldness is replaced quickly by a gushing warmth spilling out of you. You feel Callum suck in a breath, his broad chest expanding beneath you, his right arm still wrapped tightly around your chest.

“Christ, it’s running down my balls,” he wheezes out, taking another shuddering breath.

Austin braces himself against the headboard and slowly disentangles himself, flopping limply beside you on the bed. He looks at you and Cal still entwined, his eyes moving from both of your faces flushed with heat, down to Callum’s arm still tightly wrapped around you, one large, meaty hand gripping your breast, his middle finger absentmindedly pressing the sensitive bud of your nipple down. Austin sucks in breath after breath, and his eyes travel lower, to your legs still splayed wide over Callum’s sturdy thighs, his softening cock still nestled deep inside you, the spend of both men slowly dripping out of you. A sudden flash of possessiveness roars through him - for you, for Callum. For the sacred thing he has with both of you. His face goes numb and his ears start to ring. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.

“What is it, Aus?” you whisper, stretching out a hand to him. He looks forlorn, alone on the other side of the bed, his vulnerable face a mix of emotions crashing together all at once, lost and unsure, the gravity of everything settling on his shoulders like a blanket.

“Come back to us.” Your fingertips barely reach to brush his bronzed chest, the little blonde hairs soft against your skin. “Please.”

He lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding and crawls back over, wrapping his arms around you both and collapsing on top of you again. You’re hilariously squished in the middle of a bear hug now, both men squeezing with all their might, a strange show of masculinity to mask true feelings.

“I can’t breathe….” you manage between giggles. Callum lets out a soft chuckle in your ear, his breath warm against your cheek as his arm shifts beneath you. He digs his fingers into Austin’s armpit and wiggles them around none too gently. Austin bucks against you and squeaks out an uncharacteristically high laugh, trying to squirm out of Cal’s grasp, but it’s too strong and Austin’s body feels like jelly just now.

“Hey! Hey hey, no fair…you know I hate… being… tickled…” Austin grunts out, trying desperately to writhe out of this strange embrace.

-

Bright, cheerful sunshine spills onto the hotel room floor and across the bed, where it has no right to be at this ungodly hour. It shines in unabashedly, through drapes you forgot to close properly in all of your horny desperation. A little sliver of verdant green Hollywood hills is the only signal from the outside world. In here, somewhere between sleeping and waking, in that hazy early morning dreamland, you register Austin tucked up close behind you, his knees pushing the backs of yours and his warm, heavy arm slung over your waist. This is how you wake up every morning and you scoot your bottom back, into the cradle of his hips, momentarily unaware of the pulverization of your insides. But scenes from last night play out like a clip reel inside your head almost as soon as you’re conscious. You squeeze your eyes tight, refusing to give the sun its due. You stretch your legs gingerly, wiggling your toes against Austin’s, and take stock of things. There’s the obvious ache between your legs - more of a throbbing fire, if the truth is to be told. Your nipples seem to remember the previous evening’s activities as well because they immediately harden and stand at attention. And you can’t feel them yet but you’re pretty sure you have a few bruises, too. Ah well, you think as you yawn lazily, that’s what makeup is for.

You blink one eye open (it’s so bright in here!) and the first thing you encounter is a massive arm right next to your nose, tiny, golden hairs glinting in the sunlight. The second thing you see is Cal, on his belly and sans sheets or clothes, his lush and muscular bottom swelling above the white duvet beneath him. His adorable face is pressed into the pillow next to yours, dark curls swirling across his forehead and day’s worth of stubble dots his jaw. He feels your eyes on him, he’s only been snoozing for a bit, waiting for you two to wake up. He cracks one bright, blue eye open and stares back at you a moment. He senses a rush of what he feels everytime he sees you but this time it’s magnified by endearment and gratitude. Then, his face lights up, still smushed into the pillow and a massive, squinty grin splits his face. Your heart gives a funny little leap inside your chest and you find that your fingers are caressing his cheek softly, of their own volition and you resist the urge to kiss the little freckle under his mouth. He grabs your hand and kisses your fingertips, holding them to his warm lips as he smiles. And suddenly, any worry about things being weird has evaporated, as has any possibility of him being a third wheel. He just belongs.

“Hey! Quit making goo-goo eyes at my girl.” Austin’s gravelly morning voice rumbles from behind you playfully, and quick as lightning the arm still draped around your waist reaches over and smacks Callum’s ass, hard. The slap echoes around the room and you see the pale flesh of his bottom bounce and reverberate with the force of it. Cal, and his red, pillow creased face, jolts forward, yelling and jerking in the sheets, which in turn rubs his raw cock. This causes a chain reaction of events which results in him immediately pulling a sore muscle and flopping back down on the bed, moaning and rubbing his reddening backside.

“No fair, bruv,” he groans into the pillow. “That was too fuckin’ close to my balls.”

Austin chuckles and swats your ass gently for good measure. Slowly, everyone starts to shift and stir. First there are whines about soreness and muscles. Then about how sticky it all is. Then about who’s gonna order room service - but more pressingly, who’s gonna walk to the mini bar and grab a water. And then there’s an argument about who’s voice is less hoarse to call for the food - this ends up being you, hilariously. Then there’s moaning arguments about who is intact enough to wobble to the door and tip the server. In between massive amounts of doting and fretting over you, obviously. The boys are ever attentive, fluffing your pillows and making sure you’re comfortable while they feed you omelets and sausage and pancakes until your energy is restored. Over breakfast in bed, the arguments continue about who’s more bruised up - there’s a nasty bite mark on Cal’s collarbone but the fingerprints around Austin’s neck are a fair rival. There’s a panicked and very male discussion about emergency rooms when you admit you can barely move. But you manage to convince them that a nice, hot soak in the tub would do you wonders right about now. So Austin goes to draw you a bath while Callum helps you out of bed, wrapping a protective arm around your waist, and guiding you to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later you’re starting to feel somewhat restored and a little more like yourself. The boys take turns showering, getting ready for the screening event later today. They go about it quietly though, almost reverently, leaving you to relax in peace. You turn the hot water on again, you’ve soaked so long it’s turning tepid but you’re not ready to relinquish this luxury. You ask Austin to bring you your makeup kit, eying the marks on both of them that need covering up. First Austin, then Callum, one after the other they kneel beside the tub in only their dress pants, chest and feet still bare. There are bruises and hickies and bite marks on clavicles and necks and wrists. Poor Callum, with his delicate, reactionary British skin has what looks like beard burn over half his chest and up the side of his throat. You turn sideways in the fancy clawfoot bathtub, gingerly dabbing concealer here and there, doing the best you can to cover up any evidence of last night's revels. Austin sits patiently, a towel underneath his knees to buffer the hard tile floor, and watches you with his kind, enigmatic ocean eyes. They’re distracting, those eyes, as they watch your face, every blink and every smile.

“What is it, Aus? Something on your mind?” you finally murmur, unable to take such naked contemplation any longer.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” He smooths the hair back from your forehead, rubbing a silky piece between his fingers. “I’m so lucky.”

Callum slouches against the doorway and lets out a quiet hum. “I think you mean we’re lucky, mate. The three of us.”

-

The Three of Us: Brat Behavior (part 2)

The Three of Us - Masterlist

-

Tagging some Austin & Callum lovers I know: @jelliedonut @crazymadpassionatelove @elvisabutler @slowsweetlove @stylespresleyhearted @steph-speaks @blurredcolour @pearlparty

[cherienymphe]

There Will Be Blood

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Reader x Lady Margot Fenring

Summary: Knowing that you are too afraid to ever find yourself alone with the Harkonnen heir, Lady Margot secures his heart's desire for his celebration day.

warnings: Dub-Con (use of the voice), blood, knifeplay, choking, threesome, mentions of cannibalism, non canon ages, spoiler free

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies 

⭑

“She looks almost good enough to eat,” were the words that reached your ears in that low timbre, head tilted as he gazed at you. “I don’t know whether to feed her to my darlings…”

The feeling of his finger underneath your chin was almost nonexistent as he tilted your head up. You were too anxious to look away—his reputation preceding him—and even if you wanted to, you couldn’t. You felt paralyzed, held captive by that dark blue gaze you swore was actually black as night in certain lighting.

“…or make her one of them.”

You swallowed at that, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes followed the subtle movement.

He was referring to his ‘pets’ as you knew he sometimes called them, the three strikingly beautiful Harkonnen women with an appetite for human flesh. The thought of being killed and fed to the women in question made your heart skip a beat…but the thought of being added to his harem made you shudder.

…and you couldn’t tell if the feeling was good or bad.

Hands slid over your shoulders from behind, making you shiver again, and your lashes fluttered at the feeling of soft lips grazing your throat. You faintly tried to remember how and why you ended up here, and you could only recall staring into enticing blue eyes. Her familiar face was all that stood out in your memory, features soft and lips curved into an even softer smile. With all of that being said though, you couldn’t remember your thought process behind following her perfect figure down the hall.

Lady Margot Fenring—golden-haired and willowy with that Bene Gesserit serene repose about her that you found subtly disturbing.

Usually.

In this moment, her calm disposition and quiet authority made your heart race. She was a comforting contrast to the man before you, his intense gaze and sharp features serving to make your imagination run wild with what he was capable of. He was so different from his brother, vastly so from his uncle, but he still possessed similarities with the two that made you nervous all the same.

Especially with his hand so close to your throat.

“This one isn’t for consumption.”

Her lips brushed your skin as her soft and even tone filled your ears.

“Not in the literal sense, at least…” mirth colored her voice at this remark. “I saw you watching her.”

Those words made your heart sink, and you were sure that the brief stab of fear you felt passed through your eyes.

Feyd-Rautha was psychotic. He was the kind of man that would kill someone solely because he felt like it. He had an animalistic stare that made alarm bells go off in your head, telling you to never take your eyes off of him—to always keep him in your line of sight. He was the kind of man you couldn’t let your guard down around.

He was the kind of man you didn’t want watching you.

As if he could read your worrisome thoughts, a glint passed through the man’s eyes, and he leaned in closer. Not one to conceal his feelings in any situation, his expression twisted into one of amusement, a sight that made your hair stand on end. Those soft hands slid over your shoulders and down your arms, gently caressing them.

Don’t be afraid.

A voice that didn’t sound like your own filled your mind, its influence settling into your bones and deep into the crevices of your subconscious. You felt yourself relax, felt the tension leaving you, and her soft hum had you leaning back into her chest. You didn’t want to be afraid, and you felt confident in repeating those words to yourself, confirming that there was nothing to be afraid of.

“You want her,” her fingers grazed your jaw, briefly touching his own. “…but she fears you far too much to ever find yourself alone with her.”

“I like them afraid.”

Those words made you blink, your lips parting at the sincerity in them. By the way he held your gaze, you could tell he wanted you to know he meant it, but that voice in your mind assured you that you had nothing to be afraid of. Not when he leaned in closer, and not when his hand traveled from your chin and down to circle your neck.

“You get too excited,” the blonde woman steadily told him, a hint of authority in her voice. “You would kill her.”

Her fingers on your jaw forced you to turn your head, making you look at her, and when she kissed you, you welcomed it. It was a comforting kiss, one that relaxed you further, and you couldn’t help but to close your eyes and bask in the feel of her lips touching yours. Your skin grew warm, and you touched her arm.

“I’m here to keep you in line.”

She spoke the words into your mouth, but she wasn’t talking to you.

Feyd-Rautha’s lack of protest or anger at her words gave you the impression that you were being included in something that already existed. He let her kiss you, the heat of his gaze burning a hole into the side of your face as she drew you in closer. The feeling in your chest was both light and heavy, and you felt as if you couldn’t get close enough to her.

Lady Margot had an aura about her that you’d always been ensnared by—the way she talked, the way she swayed when she walked, and especially the way those attentive eyes watched everyone and everything so closely. She smelled fresh and crisp, an airy feminine aroma filling your nose as her hand rested on the side of your throat, Feyd-Rautha’s arm long falling back at his side.

When she pulled away, only the tip of her nose lightly touched yours.

“He wants you to touch him.”

Her voice reverberated in your mind, influencing your thoughts and movements, and you found yourself turning to look at the man in question. Your advance was slow, hesitant in reaching out to place your hands on the black fabric of his shirt. He visibly shuddered at the contact, and despite the fact that you were clothed, you felt vulnerable and naked underneath his intense gaze.

“This one is fragile, Feyd-Rautha,” amusement danced around her words. “You have to play gentle if you want to keep her.”

Almost as if he wanted to defy her, his hand quickly wrapped itself around your throat, forcing you closer. Your heart stuttered at the action, and despite that brief bout of adrenaline—your body’s way of telling you that you were in danger—that influential voice in your mind told you that you were safe. Your breathing was shallow as you looked at him with wide eyes.

His own gaze traveled over your form, his perusal slow and his hand tightening. You reached up, grabbing his arm, and the noise of protest he made was a cross between a grunt and a hum. His nose touched yours, and when he spoke again, it sounded like there was gravel in his throat.

“Do you fear me?”

The thought settled in your mind that he wanted you to say yes, and so you did, barely whispering it.

That pleased him, and he presented you with a terrifying smile. His fingers were pressing into the skin of your neck, and his blue gaze studied yours, eyes flickering between your own. There was a carnal excitement there that told you he lusted for more than just your body, and when you winced at the grip he had on your throat, it only grew.

“Good,” he praised in a guttural tone.

Kissing Feyd-Rautha was nothing like kissing Lady Margot.

It wasn’t meant to be a gentle and comforting experience, but instead one that forced you to face every one of your discomforts head on. His teeth pressing into your lips, his hand cutting off your airway, the lack of warning as he pushed you back. Every action was designed to make you squirm, and despite that feeling, heat still settled in the pit of your stomach as his weight pressed down on you.

Lady Margot’s gentle touch made your leg tingle. She was pulling on it, making room for him while her other hand grabbed your arm, and you shuddered at the feel of her lips kissing a path to your wrist. The contrast in their efforts made your head spin, and Feyd-Rautha’s constricting grip on your throat only disappeared when his lips replaced his hand instead.

Pain blossomed beneath where his teeth were, and you gasped, chest arching up into his involuntarily. His hands on your frame were tense, like he wanted to twist and tear you apart, but something disallowed him from doing so. When he kissed you again, the pain in your neck lingered, flaring from spot to spot, and you didn’t doubt that bruises would be there.

When you were forced to sit up, the soft and thin fabric of your dress was pulled at by two sets of hands. A feminine touch loosened the back, her lips following behind where his once were, soothing the irritated skin there. He, on the other hand, was yanking your sleeves down, and the sound of a slight tear or two in the fabric could be heard.

The cold air hit you for half a second before a warm mouth covered a sensitive bud before it even had time to harden. The sharp feeling of his teeth pressing into the skin of your breast made you shy away, but with Lady Margot at your back, you had nowhere to go. Her lips along your neck and shoulder was a welcomed feeling, a soothing contrast against the pain the Harkonnen man was inflicting. It almost faded to the background completely when her hand found its way between your thighs.

Your lips parted, and your lashes fluttered, and you couldn’t help but to lift your hips. Her fingers were soft against your skin, the appendages sliding between your folds and stroking you. One of your hands reached down to rest on hers, riding along with her ministrations while the other reached up to grip the arm of the man intent on breaking skin.

The feel of Lady Margot’s fingers pushing into you and curving against your walls made you circle your hips.  The pain and pleasure were starting to blend together so closely that you couldn’t tell what you liked and didn’t like. His teeth scraping down your torso had your breath hitching, and the Bene Gesserit woman behind you hummed when you clenched around her fingers. It sounded like a noise of approval, and when she spoke, her tone and words confirmed that suspicion.

“She likes that,” she mused, her free hand coming up to run over your chest. “She’s starting to like the pain.”

She was right.

Almost as if that triggered something in him, the blue-eyed man relinquished control completely, fingers digging into the tops of your thighs as he pulled you forward. The action caused you to collapse, your head resting in Lady Margot’s lap as he finished removing your dress, the fabric falling around you in tatters. There was only a brief bout of alarm when he brandished a small blade from his waist.

There was that voice again, settling and taking up residence in your mind, telling you not to be afraid.

Pain flared along your skin in a singular path as the tip of the blade just barely grazed your flesh. It was so sharp that a thin line of blood followed the weapon’s descent, but it was gone as quickly as it came as his tongue slipped past his lips, ingesting your essence and soothing that sting. Your eyes closed, and you welcomed her kiss as she leaned over.

Feyd-Rautha’s own lips kissed you too…just before he sank his teeth into your skin.

You were given bites and nips between the kisses—along your hip and along your thighs and eventually in between your thighs. Your hips lifted, and your back arched, and you unintentionally bit Lady Margot’s lip. She smiled into the kiss, and you knew that she could taste the same blood you felt on your own tongue.

Feyd-Rautha was a mad man between your legs, tongue and teeth playing with you, the blade in his hand pressed against your thigh. The soles of your feet pressed into the bed, wanting to both run away from the pain and run towards it. Every shallow cut made into your skin was soothed by his tongue almost immediately, and you wanted to be embarrassed by how wet their combined ministrations made you.

When you found yourself on your knees, the blade at your throat and his naked chest at your back, you could see the way Lady Margot’s gaze held his. Her face was serene and thoughtful, almost as if she were having a silent conversation with the man at your back. The sharpness of his blade drew blood, and by the way his free hand smeared it along your skin, you knew that it turned him on.

“Gentle,” she reminded him, standing.

He wasn’t so gentle when he pushed his way into you, making you sharply inhale, but the blade remained light against your throat. You tilted your head back, both to relieve the sting and because the feel of his cock sliding into you had you submitting. His own deep grunts were right at your ear, and his bloody hand trailed down your frame to roughly knead into your skin.

The sound of skin slapping against skin made your ears twitch, and when he roughly pushed you down with a hand on your back, your fingers twisted into the sheets of the luxurious bed. Your head was bowed, forehead grazing the fabric as he fucked you, power and aggression driving every thrust. Lady Margot was right, you were afraid of the Baron’s sole heir, positive that you’d never find yourself alone with him before today.

Even if you doubted it, you would have never guessed this is how he’d choose to spend his birthday celebration. While fireworks were exploding and food and drink was being passed around, Feyd-Rautha was spending his time burying his cock in you. His fingers twisted painfully into your hair, making you yelp, and the sound only made him fuck you harder.

“Are you still afraid of me?” he roughly asked you, and when you started to nod, he pushed your face down into the bed.

Understanding what he wanted, you managed to force out a small affirmation.

“Yes,” you choked out.

The low laugh that he let out was menacing, and he was aggressive in pushing you onto your back. His hand was tight when it found a home on your throat, pinning you in place as he snapped his hips into yours. The force was enough to make you wince, and his brutal treatment didn’t go unnoticed, the blonde woman coming up behind the man.

Her gaze found yours, holding it as she whispered something into his ear that yours weren’t privy to. Her beautiful hands came around to slide along his smooth chest, her lips still brushing against his ear. Her lips traveled to his throat as he pulled away from you, pulling out and allowing the other woman to guide him to sit back.

He was uncharacteristically still as he watched her take his place.

“Come.”

Her simple command was impossible to disobey, and you sat up, doing as she said. With a hand on the back of your head, she guided you towards the man, an imposing urge to touch him descending over you. With your hands sliding along his lithe frame, her fingers applied pressure, and your head lowered.

Your lips stretched around him as you tasted his cock, tongue flat and cheeks hollowed. Feminine hands were gliding over your curves, fingers eventually sinking into you again. You closed your eyes at the feel, relaxing and heart calming at the 180 from Feyd-Rautha’s earlier brutality. At the thought of him, you peeled your eyes open, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.

It amazed you, how he could be so dominant and forceful with you but so obedient and almost subdued with her. With one look into his eyes or the feel of her hands against his skin, he became a momentarily tamed wild animal. The feral glint in his eyes couldn’t be done away with, the desire to cause pain coloring his features whenever his gaze connected with yours.

As Lady Margot gently curved her fingers into you, you found yourself craving that feeling again.

Your neck and torso still faintly stung from where his blade had drawn blood, and you got the feeling that your skin was already starting to bruise from where he’d tightly held you. You recalled her earlier words, about her presence serving to keep him in line, and your mind lingered on the aches you felt from what he’d done while she was here. You wondered what would be in store for you should he ever get you completely alone.

You suspected that she was right.

He would get too excited…and probably kill you.

When his lips curved into a small smirk, you knew then that your thoughts were written on your face—along with your fear. His hand on your head made you nervous, and still you slid your mouth up and down the length of him. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs, Lady Margot’s soft ministrations stroking that fire deep within your stomach. It made you moan around him, and if possible, you swore Feyd-Rautha’s eyes darkened at both the sound and feel.

“She would make a well-behaved pet,” he haughtily said.

The way he stared into your eyes told you that was meant more so for you than her. They both shifted, leaning in and you heard them kiss above your head.

“I knew that you would enjoy her,” the blonde woman confidently said, her even tone unable to hide her satisfaction. “Provided you don’t break her.”

When she pulled away, she pulled away from you too, and with a hand on your chin, she lifted your head. She guided you to kiss him, her own lips resting against your cheek, her soft voice telling you not to be afraid. You wanted to listen, your own mind agreeing, and so you welcomed the pain when blood bloomed along your lips.

Feyd-Rautha enjoyed the taste, roughly grabbing your hands and pinning them behind you at the small of your back. He didn’t tell you to lie down, instead making you, and you winced at the feel of your hands trapped beneath your own body. His lips were stained red when he pulled away, and your mouth parted into an ‘O’ shape when the head of his cock started to stretch you out again.

You were completely powerless—at his mercy—and you cried out at the rough curve of his hips. He looked vicious above you, focused not on chasing his high but on seeing the register of pain on your face instead. That was what brought him pleasure, watching you wince and squirm beneath him and his intense thrusts. If his hand wasn’t on your throat then it was yanking your hair or digging into the soft flesh of your breast.

He seemed to like the sight of marking you up whether it be with his teeth or his hand…or that blade.

He held it against your throat while he fucked you, sometimes sliding the flat part down your chest, blue eyes transfixed by the metal pressing against your skin. Occasionally he’d turn it, the edge grazing you, making a cut just shallow enough and then he’d lean down to taste you. Spots of his own flesh was marred by your blood, and he obviously didn’t care as he smeared it over both of you with every movement.

With your hands free, you clutched onto the sheets, eyes rolling into the back of your head. His hands were painfully tight on your waist, keeping your hips lifted for him as he thrust into you. Lady Margot—silently and appreciatively watching—slid her hands along the bed to grab your hands. Her fingers intertwined with your own, holding them down, and you welcomed the gentle kisses she placed on your wrists and then your cheek before finally your lips.

The man above you made a noise of disapproval, and after some time, she granted him what he wanted, his own rough lips replacing hers. You panted into the kiss, tasting your blood on his lips, and you felt almost delirious. It was a constant cycle of pain and pleasure that had you chasing him when he started to pull away. The laugh he gave at the sight told you his thoughts on the matter, but you didn’t care how much power you were giving him.

His gaze suddenly lifted, and his thrusts didn’t stop as he faced Lady Margot. You felt hypnotized as you watched them, eyes focused on the way Feyd-Rautha stuck out his tongue, elongating it in a way you didn’t think possible. The willowy woman had let you go, taking his own blade and dragging the edge of it down his tongue.

It was then that you realized the man inside of you enjoyed pain almost as much as he liked inflicting it.

You wondered if that was why he was so submissive towards her, why she could order him around and why she was so confident that she could keep him in line. You were unsurprised when they kissed, the brutal man kissing you after a while when they finally parted. You swore that his blood tasted completely different from your own.

A thin layer of sweat coated your skin, and you felt almost completely spent. You were sure that the celebration of his birth was still being had while he chose to celebrate between your legs. His strength and the knowledge of how easily he could snuff you out played a part in the way you clenched around his cock. You could feel that you were close—and so could he.

His hand completely obstructed your breathing, and you could only hold onto his wrist. With every thrust into your cunt, the heat in the pit of your stomach grew. Your heart was racing, and your eyes struggled to remain open, and your toes curled as he stretched you around him. A noise of appreciation reached your ears, and for a moment you wondered if he was going to snap your neck.

He could do it. The strength in his hand told you so and that he would probably barely exert himself doing so. You felt your neck strain underneath his fingers, and your nails drew blood over his skin. You knew he liked that because he kissed you again. Your shallow breaths hit his face, and just as you were on the verge of passing out, you came.

…and his hold loosened.

The rush of air into your lungs coinciding with the release of pressure inside of you made your world momentarily go dark. All you could feel was the snug fit of his cock—and the way your walls fluttered around it—and his teeth against your lip. You could faintly feel softer hands on your face, and a choked moan left your lips his hips continued to connect with yours.

His hand tightened again just as your vision started to return to you, and the smile you were met with was chilling. So turned on by watching you straddle death, the fearsome fighter came too but much more violently. He practically growled above you, the noise so animalistic and inhumane sounding. Your neck almost cracked beneath the force of his hand, and the overstimulation from the feel of his cock made you want to clench your thighs together.

You were struggling to breathe when he stilled, chest burning, and when he roughly let you go—pushing himself away from you—you gasped for air. You turned on your side, sweaty and bloody and feeling like you couldn’t breathe deep enough. A hand smoothed along the side of your face—a feminine hand—and when you looked up, the blue-eyed man was cleaning his blade with a crooked smile, terrifying teeth on display.

“I think I will keep this one.”

[youaintnothinbuta]

"Who does he think he is?" — Austin Butler x reader

Summary: you and Austin are attending an awards show when your ex, a popular singer performs a song clearly aimed at yours and Austin’s (much happier) relationship.

Pairing: austin butler x reader

Word count: 700

Warnings: fluff! Toxic ex, protective austin

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You and Austin, dressed to the nines, sat in the front row of the grand hall, your fingers intertwined with his. Hollywood’s finest gathered under one roof. Celebrities mingled and photographers captured moments, their cameras flashing like a thousand tiny stars. Austin, looking handsome as per usual in his suit, couldn’t take his eyes off you. He’d already swept up a few awards, which were being kept safe with his manager, wherever she was. But when the host walked back up on stage to announce the next musical performance in between awards, a sense of dread filled you.

"And now, please welcome to the stage... (your ex’s name)!" The crowd erupted in applause as he, a popular singer, and more important the guy who showed you exactly what you didn’t want in a relationship stepped onto the stage.

Austin squeezed your hand gently, his eyes searching yours for any sign of unease. You forced a smile. You hadn’t seen him in over a year, and your breakup with him had been anything but amicable.

He grabbed the microphone, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you. A sly smile spread across his face, and your stomach churned.

"This song," he began, his voice smooth and dripping with intent, "is dedicated to a special someone in the audience tonight."

A murmur rippled through the crowd, heads turning to look at you. You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, your grip on Austin’s hand tightening. You leaned closer to him, whispering, “This is humiliating.”

Austin’s jaw clenched, his protective instincts kicking in. “Do you want to leave?” he whispered back, his voice barely audible above the applause as he began to sing. The song’s lyrics were painfully obvious, a lament about a girl leaving and finding happiness elsewhere—clearly aimed at you and your new relationship with Austin.

Maybe only 20 seconds into the performance, and you couldn’t take it any longer. You squeezed Austin’s hand, your way of telling him you wanted to go, and without a moment’s hesitation, he stood up, pulling you with him. He walked you out of the room, the curious gazes of celebrities and cameras trailing after you.

Once outside, you found a quiet corner away from prying eyes. Your composure shattered, tears of frustration and embarrassment welling up in your eyes. He lifts a finger up to your eyes, drying them before you could ruin your makeup.

"Who does he think he is?" You exclaimed, your voice quivering. "That was so embarrassing, Austin. How could he do that?"

Austin wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. "I’m sorry, Y/N. He’s an idiot. I promise he’s embarrassing himself more than you."

You buried your face in his chest, taking comfort in his steady heartbeat. "Do we go back in?" You asked, her voice muffled. "There were already so many cameras on us."

Austin kissed the top of your head, stroking your back gently. "We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, okay? We can leave if you want, or we can go back in there."

You took a deep breath. "I don’t want to let him ruin our night. Let’s go back in. But can we wait until he’s done?"

"Of course," Austin said, his voice soothing. "We’ll take our time."

You stayed in your secluded corner for a while longer, Austin holding you close, whispering reassurances and planting gentle kisses on your forehead. Eventually, the sound of applause signaled the end of his performance, and the energy shifted back to excitement for the next performer.

Austin looked into your eyes, his expression filled with love. "Ready?" he asked, brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

"Ready," you replied.

Hand in hand, you made your way back into the hall, your heads held high. The moment you re-entered, the atmosphere shifted again. As you took your seats, Austin leaned in close and whispered, "I’m so proud of you."

You smiled. "Thank you, Aus."

You grabbed his face, planting a deep kiss on his lips, just to really drive your point home. The rest of the evening passed without incident. You enjoyed watching other actors and directors win their awards and mingled with friends.

[austinswife]

there’s a video where Tom Holland and Zendaya are at a premier and Zendayas dress strap slips or something similar happens, and Tom instinctively steps in front of her to block photos. I though this would be a nice thing to see from Austin and reader in a confirmed relationship

OOPS WARDROBE MALFUNTION — Austin Butler

SYNOPSIS — In the glittering world of Hollywood, walking the red carpet is nothing new. But tonight’s premiere is different—this time, you're not just stepping out as an actress promoting her movie; you're stepping out alongside Austin Butler as an official couple. As the night unfolds and the cameras flash, a minor wardrobe malfunction turns into a moment that solidifies your bond in the public eye, with Austin stepping in to protect you both physically and emotionally. The world may see two stars, but what you and Austin share goes deeper than the glamour.

WARNING(S) — Fluff , public attention, slight wardrobe malfunction, protective boyfriend behavior, slow burn, a little anxiety.

𝜗𝜚 ALL FEEDBACKS, IDEAS SUGGESTION — TO AUSTINSWIFE

The car’s engine hummed softly beneath your feet as the black town car cruised through the LA streets, its tinted windows offering you and Austin a brief moment of privacy before stepping into the storm of flashing cameras and prying eyes. The street outside the theater was packed with eager fans, reporters, and photographers. You knew the routine well, but there was no shaking the nerves fluttering in your chest.

Austin’s fingers were warm as they interlaced with yours. He could feel your tension before you even said a word. Glancing over, his piercing blue eyes met yours. His thumb gently stroked the back of your hand, grounding you.

"You look like you're a million miles away," Austin’s voice was soft, yet it easily cut through the hum of the car’s engine and the bustling energy outside.

You smiled, the curve of your lips not fully hiding the anxious knot twisting in your stomach.

“Just thinking about everything,” you admitted quietly, shifting slightly in your seat as you glanced down at your dress. It was a breathtaking creation—black lace, bold, and daring, yet elegant. The way the fabric hugged your curves and the intricately sheer panels gave it an edge, but there was always that little voice of self-doubt that crept in during these moments.

Austin’s gaze followed yours, and a small smile tugged at his lips as he admired the gown. “You’re going to blow them away tonight,” he whispered, his voice filled with quiet certainty. His hand left yours for a brief moment, only to gently lift your chin with his fingertips, coaxing your eyes to meet his again. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right there with you.”

There was something about the way he said it, the way he always managed to quiet your inner storm with just a few words. Austin had always been that way with you—steady, reassuring, a constant in a world that often felt like it was spinning out of control. It was one of the reasons you’d fallen for him so deeply.

“I know,” you whispered, a genuine smile tugging at your lips this time. His calm confidence worked like magic, settling your nerves, at least for the moment.

The car rolled to a slow stop as you reached the red carpet entrance. The crowd outside surged forward, camera flashes beginning even before the car door opened. The sound of excited fans calling out your names filled the air. Despite your usual composure, the reality of being in the public eye as a couple for the first time hit you like a wave.

The door opened, and Austin was the first to step out. His tall frame emerged from the car, instantly commanding attention. Dressed in a sharp black tuxedo with a hint of daring beneath—a sheer black shirt that revealed just enough of his skin to make headlines—he looked like every bit the Hollywood heartthrob he was.

And yet, to you, he was still just Austin—your Austin. The one who left sweet notes on your pillow before he left for early morning shoots, the one who made coffee for you every morning just the way you liked it, the one who always knew when you needed a quiet night in instead of a glamorous evening out.

He extended his hand to you, his fingers gently grasping yours as you stepped out of the car and into the frenzy of the red carpet. The moment your feet hit the ground, the energy of the crowd surged, a cacophony of shouts and camera clicks echoing around you. You straightened your gown with a subtle motion, feeling the weight of the night pressing down on your shoulders.

Austin’s hand remained steadfast in yours as you began your walk down the carpet together. The two of you moved like you were made for this—he with his effortless grace, and you with your practiced elegance. You could feel the eyes of everyone around you, the cameras capturing each shared glance, each soft smile. The world had been waiting for this moment—your first official appearance as a couple—and they were devouring it.

The lights from the cameras were blinding, but you had grown used to that over the years. What you weren’t used to, however, was the pressure of being in the spotlight *together* with Austin. The public had speculated about your relationship for months, but this was the moment that confirmed everything. This was the moment where you both acknowledged the world was watching.

And while the thought made you anxious, it also made you feel a surge of pride. Pride that you were with Austin, that you had someone so supportive by your side on one of the biggest nights of your career.

As you posed together, turning slightly for the cameras, your arm slipped naturally around Austin’s waist. The photographers shouted your names, urging you to turn in different directions, their voices blending into a chaotic hum. You followed their instructions, the two of you moving in perfect sync, your connection palpable even in the midst of the madness.

But then, just as you turned to face the cameras head-on, you felt it—a shift in the fabric at your shoulder. In an instant, you knew something was wrong. The delicate strap of your gown had loosened, the intricate lace slipping off your shoulder and threatening to expose more than it should.

Your heart skipped a beat, panic rising in your chest. In front of you, the cameras continued to flash, oblivious to your distress. Time seemed to slow as you hesitated, unsure of what to do without drawing attention to the malfunction.

Before you could even move, Austin was already there, his body instinctively moving to shield you. With a smooth, effortless motion, he stepped directly in front of you, his tall frame blocking you from the view of the cameras. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you close as if the two of you were simply sharing an intimate moment in front of the cameras.

But you knew better. You could feel the tension in his body, the protective instinct that kicked in the moment he saw your discomfort. He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”

His voice was low, calm, and full of reassurance. The panic that had gripped your chest began to loosen its hold as you took a deep breath, grateful for Austin’s quick thinking. You managed to subtly adjust the strap of your gown, fixing it before the situation could escalate.

To the outside world, it looked like nothing more than a tender moment between two people deeply in love. The cameras continued to click, capturing Austin’s protective stance, the way his arm wrapped securely around you, the soft smile on his lips as he whispered something in your ear.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with gratitude and affection. “Thank you,” you breathed, the words barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

Austin smiled down at you, his eyes filled with warmth. “Always,” he said, the single word carrying a weight of promises.

Once you were sure your dress was secure, Austin slowly stepped back, his hand still resting lightly on your lower back as you both turned to face the cameras again. The moment had passed, but the intimacy of it lingered between you. You could feel the curious eyes of the reporters and photographers, their attention now more focused than ever on the two of you. They sensed that something had happened, but they didn’t know exactly what. And that was the beauty of it—the moment belonged to just you and Austin.

As you continued down the red carpet, posing for more photos, you couldn’t help but glance over at Austin, the love you felt for him nearly overwhelming. He had always been your protector, your rock in a world that often felt chaotic and unpredictable. Tonight had been no different.

As the two of you reached the end of the carpet, you paused just before entering the theater. The lights from the cameras still flashed behind you, but in that moment, it was just you and him.

Austin turned to you, his eyes searching yours. “You alright?” he asked softly, concern flickering in his gaze.

You nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “I am now.”

He chuckled, his hand reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You handled that like a pro,” he said, pride evident in his voice.

“Well, I had you looking out for me,” you replied, your voice soft with affection.

Austin’s smile widened, and for a brief moment, the world outside faded away. It didn’t matter that the cameras had captured every second of the night, that the headlines tomorrow would be filled with your pictures and stories speculating about your relationship. What mattered was the bond you shared—the trust, the love, the quiet moments in between the chaos.

Leaning down, Austin pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Let’s go steal the show, shall we?”

You grinned up at him, your heart full. “Together,” you said softly, the word carrying a promise of its own.

And with that, the two of you stepped inside, hand in hand, ready to face the night—and whatever came next—side by side.

[austinbutlerslovers]

Benny Cross: The Bikeriders Fantasy

Label Mature 18+

Chapter 1 Handsome Stranger 🔗 Chapter 2 🔗 Chapter 3 🔗 Chapter 4

Summary Heading out late to help spot a friend for cash at a local bar leads you into a den of wolves. Bikers frequent the place intimating you and sexually harassing you as you try to enjoy the evening with you friend. As she gets your drinks leaving you momentarily alone you become so frightened you want to cut the night short and leave. That is until you see the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on in your life. Benny, the handsome alluring biker that takes your breath away. The night is filled with wild twists and turns as you navigate your newfound feelings for this attractive stranger in your contrasting worlds.

10k word count

♠️ Passionate Smut ♠️ Slow burn • savior/hero complex•independent female•propositioned by Benny •Benny claiming you•Benny wants to be yours •stimulating make outs• nipple play• oral fem • fingering fem• body worship•extreme orgasms •missionary• raw• creampie • after care

📖 Proofreader @purejasmine 🫦 Smut Consultant @burnthheparaphilia 💭 Plot Consultant @austinbutlerfly

Heavily Based on The Bikeriders Movie 🏍️ Inspo: anonymous requests combined 🏍️ •Benny strong silent type •Benny a wanderer/ nomad -reader stable home •Benny submissive to reader •Benny love obsessed w reader •Benny being nurtured/cared for by reader •Recreate meeting Benny + smut •Benny as a gentle/passionate lover *more requests in upcoming chapters*

Handsome Stranger

It is late night and you are at home, alone in the house willed to you by your parents. There is an eerie silence as you do the dishes only hearing the splash of water and the clunk of the plates submerge in the water and hit the basin.

The house is a large two story brick and mortar in the suburbs of Forest Glen, Chicago surrounded by a lush green lawn that you played on as a child. You grew up your entire life here, each room filled with memories of laughter and warmth.

It was a happy home, filled with the smell of your mother’s cooking at supper and the sounds of your father’s music playing softly in his office in the evening as he worked.

Your parents worked hard to create a nurturing environment, and their love was evident in every room of the house.

The day they’re perished was the day your world stopped. You quit your job at the local bookstore and began relying heavily on your friends for emotional support during your time of grief

The house, once a place of joy, became a silent reminder of your loss.

Your parents, both hardworking upper middle class, were dedicated to ensuring your future was secure. Setting up a trust fund and a life insurance policy.

As their only child, you inherited everything after their passing: the family house filled with memories, the cars they had carefully maintained, and your dad’s rental property in the next town over.

With your father being the former Director of Operationsfor Ford Motors and your mother being an accountant they had always prioritized your well being, wanting to provide you with a solid foundation for a successful and stable life.

No longer having their reliable guidance and without needing to work, you found solace in reading books about franchising and exploring potential business ventures, like owning several local laundromats in town, something your father had always wanted to do.

The idea of managing a business intrigued you, offering a sense of purpose and structure in your otherwise free and unoccupied life.

However, your friends, seeing you single and often too invested in your books, worried about your sanity and social well being. They frequently pulled you out to mingle, encouraging you to enjoy yourself and meet new people.

They wanted you to remember that there was more to life than just moping alone with your inherited wealth, they wanted your to find happiness and fulfillment with a husband.

Though you had dated a few men in town, they couldn’t get over the fact that you wouldn’t submit to traditional gender roles. Having your own finances allowed you to readily dismiss them at the first signs of male authority, decideding quickly you would no longer submit to any man.

The times were changing during the late ‘60s, and women were prevalently rebelling against domestication becoming in charge of their own lives. This cultural shift resonated deeply within you, sparking a fierce independence.

As you place a dish in the drying rack, your phone rings in the kitchen. You pull the receiver and press it to your ear and shoulder as you answer. It’s one of your close friends Donna in distress, you can barely hear her above the loud music playing in the background of her location.

“Hey, I’m so sorry to bother you so late. You know I wouldn’t unless I really needed to, but I’m at a bar and I’m short on cash. It’s about five bus stops from your place. Can you come spot me? Maybe have a beer with me? I can pay you back with my check on the first.”

You smile, your friends constantly ask to borrow money here and there, and you are never one to deny them. You understand how hard it is to work nonstop only to have spare change for fun. You balance the phone on your shoulder, the cord stretching across the kitchen as you place the last dish in the drying rack.

“Of course, don’t worry about it,” you say warmly. “I’ll be there in a bit. Which bar are you at?”

She gives you the name and address and you quickly jot it down on a notepad by the phone. It’s in seedier area of town but your friend has always had a knack for finding the hippest places around, so you think nothing of it deciding to join her.

“You can hold off on the beer. I think I’ll have a pop though,” you correct her. Your friend laughs.

“Not at this bar, dress up. The guys are having a meeting here tonight.” she informs you.

“Sure, alright, I’ll dress up,” you say, not entirely sure what she means by the guys meeting up but assuming it’s the usual locals.

You hang up, a small smile playing on your lips. Helping out your friends always brings you a sense of fulfillment. You pull on a lilac colored sleeveless form hugging top with white jeans and platform sandals. Nothing too fancy, but it would definitely draw the male gaze. You check your reflection, admiring your attractive features as you brush your hair, letting it cascade over your shoulders in soft waves.

You pull out a wand of mascara, carefully applying the dark, thick formula to your lashes, enhancing the depth and allure of your eyes then framing them with eyeliner. Next, you glide a rich shade of red lipstick across your full lips, the color making them look even more inviting. You then take a brush and apply a touch of rouge to your cheeks, blending it in for a natural, rosy glow.

Satisfied with your appearance, you give yourself one last approving look turning to check your form in the mirror. You would never head out this late for your safety, but because the bar is nearby and you are meeting a friend, you grab your purse and head out into the midsummer night of Ohio.

The air is warm and filled with the sounds of crickets. The sky is clear, stars twinkling above as you make your way to the bus stop. The bus is still running, and you hop on, finding a seat near the back. The city lights blur past the window as you ride through the familiar streets, your mind wandering to the night’s possibilities. You exit the bus a few stops later, the bar just a short walk away.

The brick building is lit up, neon signs flickering, casting a colorful glow on the sidewalk. You can hear the faint sound of music and conversation from inside. Tons of motorcycles are lined up out front, their chrome accents glinting under the streetlights. The air is filled with the mingled scents of cigarettes and gasoline. The atmosphere is charged, alive with the energy of the night

You take a deep breath and step through the door, scanning the loud crowded bar for your friend. The atmosphere hits you immediately this is not the usual crowd. The bar is filled with rough looking bikers, their leather jackets adorned with patches and insignias. Their faces are rugged, some sporting thick beards and tattoos snaking up their arms and necks. It feels as if the room falls silent for a moment as you walk in, all eyes turned to you, scrutinizing you with a mix of curiosity and predatory interest.

You feel their stares, some of the men openly leering.

“You need a man?” one of them calls out, his voice ripping with insinuation just above the music.

Another smirks and gives you a once over, “Looking for some fun tonight?”

Your heart begins to race, worry creeping in, it’s as if they can sense your unease, like predators sensing prey. You scan the room desperately, searching for your friend. Finally, you spot her waving at you from a corner table, looking both relieved and slightly apologetic.

You make your way through the crowd, the bikers parting reluctantly. Some of them brush against you, while others continue to watch you, their gazes and unwanted touches making your skin prickle.

You reach your friend Donna’s table and slide into the seat next to her, trying to steady your nerves. She is sitting across from a biker who is nursing a beer, his rugged appearance adding to the intimidating atmosphere.

“Hey,” she says softly, clearly aware of the tension in the bar. “Thanks for coming. I’m really sorry about this. I didn’t realize you were gonna dress up this nice…that’s gonna make things a bit more… interesting for you tonight.” She reveals with a grin.

“It’s okay,” you reply, forcing a smile. “Let’s just get you sorted and I’ll head out of here.”

“You should stay a while. These guys are something else,” Donna says as you hand her the money she needs. “You’re the best,” she adds, smiling as she counts it but you can’t help but feel the weight of the bikers’ stares.

This night has turned into something far different than what you expected, and you can’t shake the feeling of being a rabbit in a den of wolves.

The biker across from Donna leans forward, a smirk playing on his lips. “Name’s Cockroach,” he introduces himself, his voice cheerful and welcoming.

You give him a wary eye, trying to gauge his intentions. “Nice to meet you,” you manage, your voice steady despite the unease swirling inside of you.

Cockroach’s eyes flicker with amusement as he looks you over, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Don’t worry, we don’t bite… much,” he says with a chuckle, his gaze never leaving yours.

Two more bikers approach. One is wearing only a vest, his bare chest exposed, while the wears a heavily stained t-shirt. They both look drunk, their eyes bloodshot and their steps unsteady. They reek of stale beer and cigarettes, clinging to each other as they sway slightly, propping each other up.

“Hey, you-as wants-ta go home with me?” The one in the vest slurs to you, his words barely coherent.

“What about me you wanna live with me? The other chimes in with a grin before taking another swig of his beer. He leans in too close, the overpowering stench of alcohol heavy on his breath

You slightly recoil at their statements, trying to keep your composure.

“No thank you, I’ve got a date. I’ve gotta be home by midnight,” you quickly lie, feeling extremely uneasy and not wanting to engage with either of them.

Cockroach lets out a hearty laugh, the sound rough and loud. “You hear that, boys? Cinderella’s got a date and she’s gotta be home by midnight or else she’ll turn into a pumpkin!” The group erupts into laughter, the sound echoing through the bar.

Cockroach gets up and slaps the shoulders of the two bikers and they wrap their arms around each other as they head to the bar. You watch as they stumble away, their laughter still ringing in your ears.

You look around and begin to notice several of the bikers gathering together, casting glances your way and sharing whispers with one another. Already on edge, you lean towards Donna to warn her. “Look at them, it’s like they’re planning something over there.” You say trying to keep your voice steady but your panic is evident.

She shrugs it off. “Don’t worry about them,” she says trying to reassure you.

“I gotta go,” you say abruptly, the unease becoming too much.

Donna laughs. “Just sit tight. I’ll go get you a drink,” she says and stands up.

You watch her walk away, completely at ease among the bikers, she moves with a casual confidence, even giving a friendly pat on the back to one of the bikers as she passes by. It’s clear she feels comfortable in this environment, blending seamlessly with the rough crowd.

Feeling even more exposed now that you’re alone, the atmosphere feels thicker, the air heavy with the scent of beer, smoke, and something else you can’t quite place.

You glance around nervously, noticing the bikers’ eyes still lingering on you, their whispers becoming more apparent.

You can see them watching you now, their gazes more intense and predatory, their eyes following your every move, making your skin prickle with unease.

You quickly stand, clutching your purse, scanning the bar for your friend to head out to leave, and that’s when you see him the most physically stunning man you ever laid eyes on.

He is at the pool table, standing stoically with his hands resting on the edge. His broad shoulders and muscular frame are hard to miss, accentuated by a sleeveless black shirt. His presence commands the room, and despite the rough crowd around him, he stands out with an air of calm authority.

For a moment, everything else fades away. Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooding your senses. You watch him, mesmerized by his effortless confidence and the magnetism.

He gazes down, seemingly lost in thought, and when he looks up, you get a full view of his handsome face in every detail. His piercing blue eyes that look like they could see right through you, a head of thick tousled sandy brown hair, a rugged goatee surrounding his full enticing lips, and a strong, chiseled jaw . You feel a thrill shoot right through you, his looks take your breath away.

His eyes slowly lock onto yours, and it’s as if he can sense every bit of your attraction for him. His gaze intensifies, showing a clear desire for you in return. He straightens up, revealing his towering height and makes his way over to you with determination in his stride.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you feel a rush of excitement and nervousness as you sit back down, almost in a daze, watching the confident way he approaches your table.

He turns the chair across from you around backwards and slowly sits revealing every detail of his chiseled muscular arms as he casually rests them on the edge.

“I’m Benny,” he says, his voice soft and rich like honey.

Your voice comes out weaker than you intend as you respond, “hello…”

He stares at you intensely and though you try to meet his gaze, your eyes keep wandering down to his chiseled muscular arms and back up to the handsome features of his face.

He studies every detail of you in return his blue eyes slowly trailing over your body. His eyes tracing the line of your neck, lingering on the delicate skin there, before moving to your full, red lips. He continues up to your eyes, his stare deep and inviting, never breaking contact in a testament to his desire for you.

The intensity of his gaze makes your skin begin to tingle and your heart race. You’ve never been stared at in such a way. Despite your nervousness, you find that you like his unwavering attention, it makes you feel desired and alive in a way you’ve never felt before.

Summoning all of your courage, you finally regain the ability to speak.

“What are we doing here, just shooting the breeze?” you ask, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. Your voice wavering, betraying the nervous excitement inside of you.

Benny’s smile widens, a beautiful smile that captivates you entirely. “I guess so,” he answers, his eyes never leaving yours.

When Benny doesn’t continue the conversation, a thick silence settles between you two. His eyes gaze into yours with an unspoken longing that makes your heart race and the intensity of the moment becomes overwhelming.

“Benny… I’ve gotta go home,” you relent, watching as his demeanor changes.

“Oh…okay” Benny responds the sadness flickering in his beautiful eyes, his deep voice tinged with disappointment.

His gaze lingers a moment longer before he lifts his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Alright,” he says, a knowing smile on his lips, his voice still that soft, intoxicating murmur. “You gotta go,” he echos.

When he rises from the chair and walks away, your heart is pounding as your eyes follow his every move. You know you won’t forget your encounter with Benny anytime soon.

Just as Benny leaves, another biker sits down in front of you, taking his place. His presence is commanding and intense, exuding seniority.

His appearance is cleaner than the others; his black hair is slicked back neatly, and his stern face exudes authority. He wears a neat black button up tee with white etching along the seams, giving him a polished yet intimidating look. His sharp eyes, slightly narrowed, survey you with a calculating gaze.

“I’m already spoken for,” you announce,knowing in your heart you are already drawn to Benny.

The biker gives you a knowing look. “Don’t worry,” he says with casual confidence.

“Don’t worry about what?” you shoot back, wanting to deter any of his advances.

“I’m Johnny, the president of this club,” he says beaming with pride before continuing. “The guys, they just want t’have some fun. But I’m not gonna let nothing happen to ya,” he says with a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

“What’s was going to happen to me?” you ask, your voice tinged with concern.

Johnny leans back, his eyes steady on yours. “Nothin’,” he reassures you but his eyes shift.

As he studies your demeanor you realize it must be very late and excuse yourself.

“It was nice to meet you, Johnny, but I’ve really gotta go,” you say politely , and look around the bar for Donna to say your goodbyes. When you are unable to find her a slight panic sets in, and Johnny watches as you hurriedly leave the table the rise in your nerves evident.

Leaving is more difficult than coming in. More bikers have come to the bar, making you have to weave through the crowd. You are groped several times, slapping a hand or two away on your way out as they yell sexually suggestive advances.

“Hey, sweetheart, where you going in such a hurry?” one calls out, his eyes raking over you.

“Don’t be shy, honey, come sit on my lap,” another one jeers, reaching out to grab your wrist.

“Why leave so soon? The night’s just getting started,” a third biker says, his hand grazing your lower back.

“Let me show you a real good time,” one whispers in your ear, making your skin crawl.

You push through the throng of men, your heart pounding and your breath coming in short, panicked bursts. As you finally make it to the door, the catcalls and whistles follow you out into the night.

You don’t stop moving until you are a safe distance across the street at the bus stop. You look down at your white pants, now covered in their dirty black handprints,

“Disgusting!” you scoff, trying in vain to wipe the grit of their handprints off.

The bus is taking longer than usual, and you feel an uneasiness settle in. The street lamps and the distant sounds from the bar offer some comfort, but you can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.

That’s when you see Benny leaving the bar, his calm commanding presence exuding an aura of confidence. He focuses on lighting his cigarette as he walks, moving with a fluid grace that makes you stall, looking at him in admiration.

His leather biker jacket accentuates his strong shoulders, and his jeans highlight his confident stride. As he lights the cigarette, smoke billows from his mouth. He walks to his bike a short distance in front of you, seemingly unaware of your presence.

He swings his leg over his bike and kick starts it, taking a pull of his cigarette before looking over his shoulder at you, revealing that he knew you were there the entire time. You smile, but it quickly fades as your eyes are drawn the group of loud bikers leaving the bar. They immediately see you standing alone at the bus stop.

That’s when it hits you, and fear rushes in. The bus isn’t coming anymore; it’s too late.

“Oh no,” you mutter, walking quickly down the pavement. But they bound toward you, surrounding you almost instantly, pressing you around you and jeering as you walk.

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” one of them sneers, his breath reeking of alcohol.

“Come on, darling, don’t be shy,” another says, his hand reaching out to touch your hair.

You slap his hand away, your heart racing with fear. “Alright alright !” you respond to knock their lewd advances, but your voice wavers, betraying your terror.

The night air feels suffocating with their laughter echoing in your ears.

Just as your situation seems dire, you catch a glimpse of Benny on his bike, watching the scene unfold, the cigarette hanging from his lips.

His eyes lock onto yours, and he gestures for you to come to him. Summoning all your courage, you push through the men, ignoring their jeers and grabs, and rush towards Benny. You climb onto the back of his motorcycle and hug onto him tightly as if your life depends on it.

Benny flicks his cigarette away, the ember glowing briefly before fading into the night. The bikers begin hollering and shouting.

“Looks like Benny’s got himself a prize!” one yells, his voice ripping above the others.

“Yeah Benny! Take her! Take her!” another yells as they begin to holler and cheer. The rest of the bikers and their ladies spill out of the closing bar and into the street, joining in, their voices rising in the night air with whistling and hollering.

Benny’s demeanor remains calm and composed, but you can feel the tension in his muscles as he revs the engine. The powerful roar of the motorcycle drowns out the bikers’ voices, but you can still hear their laughter and shouts in the background. Benny’s hand reaches back to gently squeeze your arm, reassuring you.

“Hold on tight,” he says, his voice steady and firm.

You cling to him even tighter, pressing your face against his back, the leather of his jacket cool against your cheek.

Benny kicks the bike into gear and peels out onto the street, leaving the jeering crowd behind.

You’ve never been on a bike before and find it exhilarating as the wind rushes past you as the motorcycle accelerates, making the street lights blur into streaks of light.

With each passing second, the distance between you and the bar grows, the noise of the bikers fading into the night. Benny maneuvers the bike with skill and precision, navigating the streets effortlessly. You begin to relax slightly, the fear slowly ebbing away, replaced by a sense of safety and gratitude.

After a few minutes, Benny slows down and turns onto a quieter street. He eventually stops the bike in front of another bar, this one open later into the night. The neon sign casts a warm glow on the pavement, inviting you inside. He turns off the engine and looks back at you, his intense eyes filled with concern.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice softer now.

You nod, “Yes, thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”

Benny helps you off the bike and stands by your side, his presence comforting.

“Do you want a drink?” he asks, his voice calm and reassuring.

You nod again, feeling a wave of relief. “Yes, that would be nice.”

He leads you into the bar, the dim lighting and the low hum of conversation providing a stark contrast to the dark, tense night you’ve just escaped.

The air is filled with the scent of beer and the soft strains of blues music playing on the jukebox. You follow Benny to a booth in a quieter corner, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude for your unexpected savior.

As you sit down, Benny signals the bartender for a couple of drinks. He sits across from you, his gaze steady and reassuring. “You’re safe here,” he says, his voice calm. “Just take a moment to breathe.”

You nod, taking a deep breath and trying to steady your nerves. The warmth and relative quiet of the bar help you start to relax, the events of the night slowly fading into the background as you focus on the present, feeling grateful for Benny’s timely intervention.

The bartender brings over two cold beers, placing them on the table. Benny takes a sip, then looks at you with a smoldering gaze.

“Those guys back there, they’re my crew,” he says casually. “and you’re the most beautiful woman they’ve ever laid eyes on.” He admits.

You blush, feeling both flattered and a bit wary. “Well, they have an interesting way of showing it,” you reply, your voice tinged with sarcasm.

Benny chuckles softly. “Yeah, they’re rough around the edges, but they know not to mess with someone I’m looking out for.”

You take a sip of your beer, feeling the cold liquid soothe your nerves. “Thanks for that. I was really scared back there.”

Benny’s expression softens. “You don’t have to thank me.“

You both sit in silence for moment until you come up with a question you’ve been curious about.

“What’s it like being a biker?” You ask.

Benny leans back, considering your question. “It’s freedom,” he says, his voice thoughtful. “No schedules, no bosses. Just the open road and my bike. I go where I want, when I want. There’s nothing like it.”

“Where do you live?” you ask.

Benny smiles, a hint of mystery in his eyes. “Wherever the road takes me,” he replies. “I’ve got places I crash, friends’ houses, motels, sometimes just under the stars. Home is the ride.”

“What about you?” he asks, looking you over with curiosity in his eyes.

“I’m from Forest Glen,” you admit with a bit of hesitation.

“Fancy,” he says, lifting his eyebrows with a grin.

The heat rises to your face as your cheeks blush, feeling self conscious from his correct assumption.

“Well, your life sounds very entertaining, Benny,” you admit, taking in his rugged charm, admiring his sense of freedom and independence.

Benny’s eyes soften as he looks at you. “It can be. But it’s not for everyone. It’s rough and unpredictable. You have to be ready for anything.”

You nod, taking another sip of your beer. The differences between your structured life and his free spirited existence fascinates to you, drawing you even deeper into irresistible allure.

You share two more beers together, talking about your vastly contrasting interests. You, fascinated by his wild, unpredictable life, while he listens intently as you describe the comforts of home, your love for quiet evenings with a good book and the security of a routine. Hours go by, the conversation flowing easily between you two, until you glance at the clock above the bar seeing its 4am.

“Oh wow, Benny, we’ve been out all night. I didn’t even notice the time until now.”

He glances at you with a hint of reluctance, “You gotta go?” he asks not wanting the night to end.

You nod reluctantly. “Yeah, it’s really late Benny.”

“Let’s get you home, then,” he says, standing up and signaling the bartender. He pays for the drinks, and you follow him out of the bar, feeling a mix of contentment and excitement.

Outside, the night air is cool and refreshing, as Benny leads you to his bike. He stands next to it for a moment, adjusting his gloves and giving the machine a once over. With a swift, practiced motion, he swings his leg over the seat and settles in.

He grips the kick starter firmly, and gives it a powerful thrust. The engine roars to life, the sound reverberating through the quiet night. Satisfied, he looks over to you and extends his hand, helping you climb onto the back. “Hold on to me,” he says gently.

This time, as you wrap your arms around him you let your hands wander down, marveling at the strength and solidity of his body as you hold his waist. As the engine roars to life you imagine that he’s yours and that this connection between you is something real and lasting.

You press close against his back, feeling the warmth and firmness of him. The vibrations from the engine travel through you, heightening your senses. Soon you’re off, the streets blurring past as Benny navigates the quiet roads to your home. The city lights twinkle above, as the wind rushes past you, carrying a newfound sense of excitement for Benny.

The ride is exhilarating, the powerful machine beneath you and the feeling of Benny’s solid form in front of you providing comfort. The journey is smooth, and you feel safe, trusting Benny completely as he takes you home.

Eventually, he slows down, pulling up in front of your house. He cuts the engine, and the sudden silence is almost startling. You reluctantly let go, dismounting from the bike.

“Thank you, Benny. For everything,” you say, looking to him.

He smiles, his eyes warm and genuine.

You linger for a moment, neither of you wanting the night to end. Finally, you turn to head inside, but before you go, you look back at him one last time.

“Maybe we can do this again sometime?” you suggest, feeling a bit bold.

“I’d like that,” he replies, his smile widening.

With that, you head inside, a sense of warmth and excitement building within you. Once in doors you watch from the window as Benny starts his bike and rides off into the night, the sound of the engine fading into the distance. As you lock the front door you realize that tonight was the beginning of something new and unexpected in your life.

Do You Want Me?

Just as you hang your purse on the entry rack you hear the familiar sound of Bennys bike retuning. The loud rumbling suddenly cutting off.

You pull back the curtain of the front door window and notice he’s parked himself across the street. Confused you watch him pull off his riding gloves and dismount from his bike, taking a carton of cigarettes out with his lighter sparking one up, sitting calmly against his bike to smoke it.

You assume he’s waiting for someone and head upstairs. Once in your bedroom you click on the lamp and begin to unwind from the night. You take off your platform sandals one at a time, placing them in the shoe rack, feeling relief as your feet touch the cool floor.

You remove your crop top, letting it fall to the floor, then shimmy out of your white jeans, revealing your panties and bra. With a quick motion, you slip off your bra and step out of your panties, placing all the items in the hamper.

You turn on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up, then step inside. The hot water cascades over your body, washing away the stress and grime of the evening. You let the water soothe your muscles, closing your eyes and taking a few deep breaths.

After a moment, you step out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a soft towel. You brush your teeth, the minty freshness a stark contrast to the taste of beer lingering from the bar.

Feeling refreshed, you slip into a comfortable nightgown and lie down in your soft bed. You can’t help but replay the night’s events in your mind, especially the moments with Benny. His charm and protective nature leaving a lasting impression on you.

Suddenly you sit up, curiosity getting the better of you and walk over to your bedroom window pulling the curtain aside, half-expecting to see an empty street. To your surprise, Benny is still there, leaning casually against his bike, his gaze fixed on your house.

“He’s still here?” you whisper to yourself, a mix of surprise and confusion flooding your thoughts. “What is he waiting for?”

You watch him for a moment, feeling a mix of curiosity and excitement. His presence outside your home feels both unexpected and oddly reassuring. You look at the clock on your dresser seeing it’s 5: 50 am and wonder why he hasn’t left yet and what he could be thinking.

Unable to resist, you throw on a robe and quietly make your way downstairs. The cool night air greets you as you open the front door and step outside. Benny looks up, his eyes locking onto yours, and a small, knowing smile spreads across his lips.

“Benny, what are you still doing here, are you guarding my house all night?” You tease and he chuckles before pulling a drag from his cigarette.

“I guess so,” he says, smiling as he exhales. His smile is so beautiful that it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Do… you have some place your supposed to be?” you ask, curiosity mingling with the undeniable attraction you feel toward him.

“Not till later,” he responds casually, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes you smile.

The first light of dawn begins to creep over the horizon, casting a soft glow over the street.

“The sun’s coming up, Benny,” you observe and he glances over, squinting as he takes in the view of the rising sun.

“How about I make you breakfast?” you suggest with a grin.

Benny looks back at you, his eyes meeting yours as his smile widens. “I’d like that,” he says.

He stands and flicks his cigarette as he approaches your house, and you watch his confident stride as he stretches his arms relieving his sore muscles from sitting on his bike for so long.

He stops just in front of you, his presence commanding yet comforting. He looks you in the eyes, a hint of something playful in his gaze.

“You want to go to a meeting with me today?” he asks.

Surprised, you blink. “A meeting? What kind of meeting?”

“It’s just something with my club,” he says, his tone casual but inviting. “Thought you might like to see what it’s all about.”

You feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of experiencing his biker lifestyle firsthand. Your earlier interest in him only intensifies. “I’d like that, Benny,” you say with a grin,

“Good,” he says, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

You invite Benny inside just as the sun starts filling your kitchen with early morning light. Benny looks around your place, impressed, his fingers trailing along the countertop in the kitchen, taking in the affluent atmosphere.

“You’ve got a great setup here,” he remarks, his eyes wandering over the well kept place.

“Thanks,” you say, grinning as you gather the items to make him breakfast. “It’s been a lot of work to keep it this way, but it’s worth it,” you admit.

“Well, you’re doing a great job,” he murmurs, his eyes wandering over the curves of your body, knowing you’re too focused on your tasks to notice his provocative gaze.

You smile from his remark as you start your routine, putting on a kettle of water for tea and beginning to make scrambled eggs.

You crack two more for Benny and retrieve the bacon from the fridge setting it in the second skillet, the sizzle filling the kitchen with a the delicious aroma. Grabbing a loaf of bread, you pop a few slices into the toaster to make him a full meal.

As you move around the kitchen, Benny rests back against a counter, admiring you work. His presence is both comforting and intriguing. You can feel his eyes following your every movement, adding a layer of warmth to the room.

The eggs fluff up nicely in the pan, as the smell of bacon wafts through the air

You look back at him and see he has a grin on his face clearly enjoying being made a hot meal.

“Go in the dining room Benny and I’ll bring your plate when it’s ready,” you say sweetly and he shyly smiles happy to do as he’s told.

The kettle whistles, and you pour the hot water into a set of cups, letting the tea bags steep. The toast pops up, and you butter the slices, placing them on a plate alongside the bacon and eggs. You bring everything to the table, and set his plate down in in front of him arranging everything with care.

He looks up at you with admiration in his eyes, and you respond with a warm smile. His gaze then shifts to the food you’ve prepared, his expression softens with deep gratitude as he takes in the sight of the meal you made for him.

You step away momentarily to bring the tea cups, carefully placing one beside him and then setting yours down next to your plate.

He waits for you to sit across from him and, only after you take your first bite of food, does he begin eating. His fork scrapes the plate several times as he hungrily eats.

“This is one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time,” he compliments, and you smile, watching him continue to enjoy each bite.

You begin to study him closely noticing he must be starving and tired. His scent is heavily tinged with cigarettes, his hands are calloused, his fingernails are covered in grit and his sandy brown hair is heavy with oil.

Noticing his rugged appearance, you suddenly realize that Benny doesn’t have a place to call home, a place to be cared for and comforted and your heartstrings tug for him.

“Benny “ you ask softly watching him eat his last bites of foods. “Would you like to shower here? Maybe have a rest on the sofa before we go to this meeting of yours ?” you offer gently.

Benny looks up from his empty plate, a mix of gratitude and surprise in his eyes. “That would be great actually,” he admits, his voice softening.

You smile warmly, feeling a sense of satisfaction being able to care for him.

You clear the table and he takes his jacket off draping it over his chair, revealing the definition of his strong, muscular arms in his sleeveless shirt.

Seeing him getting comfortable sets you at ease, and you smile as you make your way over to him. “Will you follow me upstairs so I can show you to the shower, Benny?” you ask, and he slowly grins, his face lighting up in the way that sends a warmth through you.

“Yea I’ll follow you” he says his voice carrying a mix of gratitude and anticipation.

He follows you up the stairs, his heavy footsteps behind yours, and you lead him down the hallway, your own footsteps echoing softly in the quiet house.

Stopping at the linen closet, you pull out a fresh set of towels and hand them to him. He takes a moment, bringing the soft fabric to his face and inhaling the scent, appreciating the clean, comforting smell of fresh laundry.

You pull a toothbrush and a bar of soap from the closet, placing them on top of the towels as he lowers them slightly.

“The bathroom is just on the left,” you say, pointing the way. “I’ll be in my room tidying up and getting ready. If you need anything, just knock.”

“Thank you,” he says, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that makes your heart flutter. “I really appreciate this.”

You smile, touched by his appreciation. “It’s no problem at all, you’re my guest.”

He glances down, then back up at you, his eyes softening. “You really didn’t have to any of this.”

“I wanted to Benny” you reply softly.

You give him a reassuring smile, and he returns it with a grateful look before heading to the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

You head to your bedroom and close the door. Hearing the shower start you feel a sense of contentment wash over you, knowing you’re able to care for him.

You tidy up your room and begin to get dressed, choosing a loose fitting shirt and denim jeans, assuming you’re going to be with the same rowdy group of bikers he was with yesterday. Before you put your socks and shoes on there is a knock at your door.

You open it to find Benny standing in the hallway, half naked, wearing only the towel. His well defined physique catches you off guard, and your breath hitches at the sight of his muscular body.

His defined abs glisten, and his broad chest rises and falls with each breath, his hand gripping the towel beneath the deep v-line of his waist. He looks refreshed and more relaxed. His hair, now clean and slightly damp, falls in soft waves around his face that radiates with a newfound vitality. You momentarily lose your voice, captivated by how attractive he looks.

“What would you like me to do with my clothing?” he asks gently, helping you refocus.

“Y-you can bring them to me, Benny,” you say,still in shock at the perfection of his body. He collects his clothing and brings the pile to you. Quickly grabbing a hamper, you place his clothing inside.

“Let’s go down and get these washed for you,” you announce, trying to focus on the task at hand.

“Thank you,” he says smiling again, and as you walk downstairs, he follows you. Still in the towel, holding it at his waist. As you reach the base of the stairs, you can’t help but look back and notice how the towel clings to his muscular form, each step emphasizing every contour of his physique.

You sigh dreamily and gesture him toward the living room. “Why don’t you relax on the sofa while I head to the laundry room,” you offer.

Benny nods, and you watch as he enters the living room looking the place over. He sits down on the sofa, adjusting his towel before resting back, his muscular arms outstretched against the plush cushions, enjoying the comfort.

“Do you need anything?” you ask kindly, wanting to ensure he’s comfortable.

“No, this is perfect,” he says, giving you a grateful smile.

You nod and head to the laundry room, feeling a sense of satisfaction being able to help him. As you start the washer, you can’t help but think about how different your lives are and yet how connected you feel to him in this moment.

As you pour the detegent in, the morning sun filters through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room and it dawns on you, you’re falling deeply for Benny.

When you head back to the living room, you find him studying a framed picture of your family on the mantle. “These your folks?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer slowly.

“Where do they live?” he asks.

“They passed away Benny,” you say, your voice somber. His face falls in shock, realizing his mistake.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he stammers.

“It’s alright. It’s been some time, but I do miss them terribly,” you admit, your voice softer.

His eyes gloss over with sadness for you. “I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories,” he says gently.

“Benny it’s fine, I’ll be alright .” you say with a reassuring smile.

He looks around at the living room, taking in his surroundings.

“You live by yourself in this big house?” he asks, his eyes scanning the place, noting the quietness.

You nod. “Yes, it’s just me now. It’s a lot of space for one person, but it’s home,” you say, offering a small smile.

He takes a deep breath, his gaze returning to yours, filled with a mix of admiration and concern. “It must get lonely sometimes,” he says softly.

“It does,” you admit, and then you fall silent, lost in thought realizing that you’ve willingly let Benny—a man you just met tonight— into your home and now he’s standing in your living room, nearly naked, wrapped in a towel.

The reality of the situation hits you hard and you are surprised by your own actions, you would never willingly allow a handsome stranger into your home, let alone someone you barely know, but with Benny somehow its different.

His presence reassures you. The way he looks at you with genuine care and concern, the kindness in his eyes, his gentle yet commanding demeanor, all make you feel safe with him in a way you have never felt before.

He captivates you with his powerful presence, a mix of beauty and raw strength exuding a sense of protection and confidence that is impossible to ignore. As you watch him, standing nearly naked in your living room, you can’t help but feel a surge of admiration and desire.

You look at his perfect body again, your gaze lingering on his broad, chiseled chest, his heavily defined muscular arms, and finally settling on his ridged abs, each one perfectly sculpted, narrowing down to his sculpted waist. His entire body exudes strength. The sight of him standing in your living room takes your breath away.

The truth of your motives comes to the surface as your eyes linger on him longer than you intended and you feel a surge warmth spread through you, a magnetic pull that makes it hard to look away anymore . Feeling a mixture of desire and curiosity that you’ve never felt before you begin to realize you invited him in to do more than just to care for him.

Benny catches your lingering stare, his eyes meeting yours with a knowing look. A small smile plays at the corners of his lips, and you can see the spark of desire in his eyes as he takes a step closing the distance between you.

“What do we do while we wait for the laundry?” he asks, his voice low and sultry. Your heart flutters, finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than the desire building between the two of you.

“I-I hadn’t thought about that,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly.

As he steps closer you instinctively move back, bumping into the bookshelf behind you. The sudden movement causes a book to tumble off the shelf and hit the floor with a soft thud.

He kneels down to pick it up, and you catch a glimpse of his cock, sending a thrill straight through you. It is long and thick, the biggest you’ve ever seen, stretching impressively down his thigh. Utterly impressed you quickly cover your mouth.

He doesn’t take notice and reads the title of the book he’s picked up.

“Business Franchising,” he says, grinning as he stands. “Is this yours ?” He asks and you slowly nod, slightly trembling unable to form words from what you just witnessed.

“You’re smart .” He confirms looking into your eyes with a satisfied grin.

His muscular arm extends to push the fallen book back into the slot next to your head and his closeness is intoxicating. He sees your hesitation, your head lowered as you avoid looking at him in such close proximity.

He doesn’t back down, instead, he gently tilts your chin up with his fingers, guiding your eyes to meet his. His gaze is intense and unwavering, filled with an unspoken understanding and desire. As you stare into his eyes, he searches deeply into yours, making it impossible to look away.

“I never thanked you properly,” he says softly, his eyes darkening with a mix of gratitude and longing.

The heat radiating from his body and the scent of him, fresh from the shower, fills your senses. He’s intoxicating to you, and the longer you stare into his beautiful, mesmerizing blue eyes, the more your heart races in anticipation.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promises, his voice deep and filled with emotion. The intensity of his gaze is magnetic, drawing you in completely and his breath mingles with yours, warm and inviting as his lips move closer.

The world around you falls away as his full lips slowly brush against yours and you feel the spark ignite between you, a deep and passionate connection that sends waves of heat through your body. He kisses you slowly and deliberately savoring every moment of his lips on yours with an unspoken desire.

His hand gently cups your jaw and his fingers trace the contours of your face as you feel the warmth of his palm against your skin.

His other large hand grasps your waist pulling you flush against him making you feel as if your heart will explode from the overwhelming mix of emotions.

Bennys lips move against yours slowly devouring you as you lose yourself in the sensation, feeling an incredible sense of connection to him. His kiss is filled with a longing and desire that promises so much more.

Feeling a firmness press against your thigh, you break the kiss, peering down to see his substantial erection hard against you. Looking back into his eyes you see his intent.

“Benny,” you shakily whisper, your voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. “We should take it slow,” you manage to say, but as the words leave your mouth, he stares at your lips with a fierce longing before looking back into your eyes. His breaths are heavy and uneven, his desire for you is intense, as if he’s fighting to hold himself back but wanting to give you more.

You slowly place your hand on his chest, trying to calm him, but his eyes search yours, filled with lust his need is evident and the intensity of the moment is fierce as you fight your reservations.

Quickly, you turn from his grasp and walk to the kitchen, creating a distance between you to force the thought of stripping the towel off of him from your mind. You want to date Benny properly, not get swept away in a moment of passion.

“I want you,” Benny admits following you closely.

“You make me feel differently than anyone ever has,” he reveals, not even giving you a moment to cool down.

“When I’m with you, it’s like everything else fades away and I’ve never felt this way before.” He confesses.

Your mind is overwhelmed with desire for him as you listen to his words, your eyes looking around the kitchen, frantically searching for anything you can do to preoccupy yourself.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says closer, his voice filled with emotion. “I’ve never wanted anyone so much.”

You reach the sink and grip the edge, feeling Benny’s presence behind you, and he presses himself against you, his strong arms encircling you, trapping you between him and the counter. The firmness of his hard body pushing against yours makes a gasp of pleasure escape your lips, and he gently turns you around to face him, his eyes searching yours.

His eyes fall to your lips, then lift back to meet your gaze. “I need you,” he confesses, his voice soft and genuine, filled with a depth of longing and desire that takes your breath away.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you process his words. The desperation in his eyes, the way he stands so close, everything about him in this moment is charged with a raw sexual energy and without a second thought, you reach up and kiss him, your lips meeting his in a rush of heat and need.

His body responds immediately, his large hands gripping around your waist, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. His lips meld with yours full of passion as all the pent up tension between you two finally falls away.

“I’ve wanted this,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice a mix of gratitude and desire. “Since I first… laid eyes on you.” He admits between kisses.

You nod, breathless, your hands exploring his muscular chest.

“..Yes….Benny ” you pant, feeling his strong arms envelop you knowing that this moment, this connection, is something you both desperately need.

He kisses you deeply, tilting his head and roughly capturing your mouth, his strong hands wandering down your back making you feel cherished in his arms.

Each caress and press of his lips deepens your connection flooding you with emotions you’ve never felt before.

His towel falls away, and you feel his hard length press against you making you softly moan.

He pulls his lips from yours and kisses down your neck, holding you firmly yet tenderly as you tilt your head back, giving him better access to your throat.

“How do you want me?” he whispers against your skin, his voice thick with desire as he continues his trail of soft kisses. Your heart pounds with longing and nervous anticipation.

“..Benny,” you say, breathing heavily, feeling the hardness of his full erection pressing against you.

“W-we should wait,” you gasp.

He leans back to look at you, his eyes filled with a serious depth of devotion. “I want you,” he says with unwavering conviction, “and I want to be yours.”

The sincerity in his eyes melts away your reservations. “I want you too, Benny,” you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation.

His hands travel up tenderly pushing under your top and pulling it over your head before he discards it to the floor.

“You’re beautiful,” he smiles, his eyes lingering on the sight of you undressed for the first time. His large hands cup your full breasts with reverence, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“I can’t believe I get to touch you like this,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe.

His lips brush over your sensitive skin, kissing your soft nipples making you ache with desire. His tongue slips out, gently flicking and swirling around the buds until they are hard and sensitive.

Then, his mouth descends, lavishing attention on them and you gasp as he alternates between each breast, sucking and kissing gently, his hand continuing to caress and knead the other. His rough touch contrasting perfectly with the softness of his mouth.

When he pulls back, his eyes lock onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. His hands holding your waist as he slowly lowers down on his knees in front of you, making your breath hitch.

His hands slide up your thighs unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them all the way down, the cool air contrasting sharply with the heat of your skin

His lips trail soft tantalizing kisses up your thigh.

“I want to taste you,” he murmurs against your skin stopping shy of your panties. He slowly pushes his hand between your legs feeling you already soaked through for him and hums in satisfaction.

“Benny.. I haven’t done anything like this before …” you pant growing more overwhelmed by the second knowing he’s going to perform oral on you.

“I’ll go slow“ he promises and delicately slides your panties off, trailing kisses down your navel to your wet heat.

“I want to please every part of you,” he vows, his voice deep and filled with satisfaction as his hands grip your hips, holding you steady. “I want to make you feel things you’ve never felt before,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin as his mouth descends.

The first touch of his wet tongue against your clit sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body as you gasp.

“Oh god, Benny!” you cry out, the softness of his mouth latching sending jolts of pleasure directly to your core. His warm slick tongue begins to lick expertly, exploring every inch of your folds as his facial hair grazes against your thighs making you clench. You look down at him, your breaths hitching as you watch him devour you with an intensity that leaves you trembling.

“F-feels so good Benny” you whisper, your voice shaking with pleasure.

His tongue explores deeper into your folds, and you moan desperately, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The new experience is overwhelming, the sensation heightening to a level you’ve never known.

His tongue flicks circles of precision on every stroke sending waves of pleasure through your body unraveling you under his skilled touch.

He laps at your clit, alternating between gentle licks and firm flicks, driving you insane with lust. His eyes, dark with hunger, suddenly lock onto yours, and the sight of him dedicated to giving you such pleasure makes you tremble, becoming completely undone.

His hands grip your hips tighter, anchoring you in place as his tongue delves deeper, tasting you, exploring your inner walls. You can feel the vibrations of his satisfied hums against your most intimate parts as his facial hair brushes roughly against you. The intensity of the moment takes your breath away, and you begin moaning uncontrollably, surrendering completely to the ecstasy he’s giving you.

He brings his hand from your hip, slipping one long, thick finger inside of you. Feeling the roughness of his fingertip against your soft sensitive inner walls makes you clench as an intense moan to escape your lips.

Chills cover the expanse of your body as his tongue and lips, swirl and flick against your clit with precise timing as his finger slips in and out of your sensitive inner walls.

“Benny…please…Benny“ you moan incoherently losing control of your mind, the arousal completely taking over as you lose yourself to him.

He adds a second finger inside of you and the stretch is deliciously overwhelming, your walls contract around his fingers as they move in and out with a steady rhythm. He curls his fingers inside you, hitting a perfect spot that makes you gasp and arch your back.

“Benny oh god! ” you cry out your hands trembling as you grip his hair painfully. He moans loudly against your folds and you savor the vibration of his voice sending a jolt straight through your core.

You begin to high-pitch moan, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as your orgasm builds.

His tongue licks broad strokes and quick flicks against your clit while he fingers you making you see stars.

“Benny your… gonna…make me come like this” you relent your thighs trembling as you try to endure every powerful sensation.

Your walls rhythmically contract around his thrusting fingers and the pleasure becomes too much to bear. You let out a desperate cry, your hips bucking softly against his mouth as your orgasm crashes over you. You moan, your voice trembling in ecstasy,

“Benny you made me come!” you cry out as waves of pleasure ripple through your body, leaving you light-headed and breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.

He continues to gently lick your clit, deliberately slowing the movements of his fingers inside of you, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure until finally, you collapse back, catching your breath as your body tingles with the aftershocks of your intense release.

You pant, staring down at him in awe as he slides his fingers from you and into his mouth, tasting your wetness. He smiles and the sight of him savoring you sends a shiver through your body.

“Benny you’re incredible,” you say in astonishment.

He rises and stands to look at you, his eyes dark with desire. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you,” he confesses his voice thick with emotion as his hand trails along your waist. “I will do everything to satisfy you” he murmurs, his gaze locked onto yours with an intense longing to please.

You feel warmth spread across your body at his words. “Take me the bedroom,” you say breathless, eager to see more of what he can do. You want him to take all the time in the world on you, feeling every part of you. His intense gaze remains locked on yours as he smiles at your request taking your hand and guiding you to the staircase.

As you walk up the stairs, you continue to steal glances at him. His strong, chiseled physique is mesmerizing, every muscle perfectly sculpted and radiating raw strength. The sight of his impressive erect cock heightens your anticipation even more.

His hand remains intertwined with yours, the roughness of his calloused fingers a stark contrast to the tender way he holds you.

Entering your bedroom, the morning light filters softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. Benny closes the door behind you, and you can feel the charged atmosphere enveloping you both. He turns to you, his eyes filled with an intensity that makes your heart race.

He leans in, capturing your lips with his, as his hands begin to explore your body. You feel his warmth, the firmness of his muscles pressing against you, as he gently guides you toward the bed. He lays you down carefully, his touch both tender and possessive.

Benny’s lips trail down your neck, planting soft kisses along your collarbone and further down to your chest. His hands caress your sides, memorizing every curve your body. The feeling of his touch, combined with the lingering sensations from your previous climax, sends shivers of pleasure coursing through you.

He takes his time, his lips and hands worshiping your body as if it were sacred. You feel his breath against your skin, the warmth of his kisses, and the gentle firm pressure of his hands. Your mind is clouded with desire, every touch and caress heightening your need for him.

Benny grabs your hips, pulling you to him with a roughness that sends a thrill through you.

As he finally positions himself over you, his eyes meet yours, and you see a mixture of lust and something deeper, a connection that transcends words.

He looks over your body, his gaze lingering on your curves, taking in every detail with a mix of admiration and desire until there is a moment of pause, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

“My condoms are in my bike,” he realizes, his voice thick with need and before he can move to retrieve them you gently touch his wrist.

“I’m on Enovid,” you smile softly.

He blinks, confusion flickering across his face. “What’s envoid?”

“It’s a pill, I can’t get pregnant,” you explain

“Not ever?” he says and you smile gently as you see the initial panic in his eyes. You reach up, touching his face tenderly.

“If I stop taking it, I can easily become pregnant Benny.”

His eyes widen in realization. “I can… come in you?”

“Yes, Benny,” you affirm, your voice low and sultry, your eyes showing a dark seduction that makes his breath catch.

He stares at you in astonishment.

“This will be my first time… without a condom,” he confesses, a slight vulnerability in his eyes that makes your heart swell.

You smile reassuringly, caressing his cheek. “It’s okay, Benny. I trust you.”

His expression softens, and he leans down to kiss you deeply, his lips pressing against yours with a newfound intensity.

He positions himself at your entrance and the anticipation is almost unbearable. You can feel the heat of his body, the weight of him above you, and the hardness of his cock poised to enter you.

Slowly, he pushes in and you moan feeling every inch of him, the feel of his cock is intense as he deeply stretches you full of him.

He feels your tight walls taking him in, the sensation is a blend of pleasure and intimacy, he’s never experienced before making his breath hitch.

“You feel…. -So …good,” he groans, his voice filled with pleasure and awe as his eyes close immediately. His brows furrow in concentration as he savors the feeling of your slick, tight walls surrounding him. Every inch of him feels alive, every nerve ending tingling with the raw, powerful sensation of being inside you.

The warmth of his body against yours, the rhythm of his breathing, and the way he opens his eyes looking Into yours all combine to create a profoundly intimate moment.

He begins moving with slow measured thrusts, savoring the feeling of being inside you without any barriers

“Benny you’re …so deep” you gasp your voice trembling with pleasure feeling every inch of his hard cock thrust into you completely.

Benny’s eyes lock onto yours, his expression filled with raw desire and tenderness.

“I want you to feel all of me,” he breathes, his voice thick with emotion.

You moan from his words, the connection between you deepening with each thrust as he picks up the pace, his cock sliding in powerfully driving into you with a rhythm that leaves you breathless. His eyes never leave yours and you can see the raw emotion in his gaze.

“Am I making you feel good?” he rasps, his voice filled with a mix of desire and tenderness.

“Yes Benny, yes,” you moan, your voice trembling with pleasure.

His eyes darken with passion as he breathes, his movements becoming more intense.

“I’ve never felt anything like this,” he confesses. “I can’t get enough” he rasps. The warmth of your slick, walls grip his cock tightly, the skin to skin sensation, sending intense waves of pleasure through his entire being.

“Am I yours?” he questions, thrusting harder,“Do you want me?” he asks, his eyes desperately searching yours as you get lost in the overwhelming sensation of his large cock driving deep into your tight walls.

“Yes, Benny yes!,” you cry out, your body arching against his. “I’m yours, I want you!” you moan, clenching around him, the pleasure intensifying with every thrust of his large cock.

“I’m yours then,” he pants as he continues to thrust into you, his pace quickening the sensation of his size is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

Without a condom, your wet walls glide against him and he can feel every pulse, every contraction, the raw intimacy of it almost too much to bear.

The connection feels so intense and primal he drives faster, thrusting harder, and pushing deeper, each motion fueled by the exquisite pleasure coursing through him.

His hips begin softly clapping against yours as he grunts thrusting into you at a forceful pace driving you both toward a powerful climax.

“I can’t hold back,” he groans, his voice raw with need. “You feel too good, I’m losing control,” he admits .

“Benny, come in me” you desperately moan, your body arching against his.

He responds with a deep, primal groan, his thrusts becoming urgent and powerful, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge.

“…-I want to feel you come around me first ” he breathes and brings his large hands to your waist pulling you forcefully to meet against his thrusting cock. You cling to him, your nails digging into his back leaving marks as you ride the waves of ecstasy, your bodies moving in perfect harmony.

“Yes Benny, yes… oh my god, yes!,” you cry out, your voice filled with raw pleasure as he roughly thrusts into you satisfying the tightness of your core. You begin gasping, your walls contracting around him as you orgasm.

His eyes squeeze shut from the sensation of your fluttering walls and he surrenders to the overwhelming pleasure.

His cock pulses hard inside of you, his hips stuttering as he loses control. Finally both reaching the peak your loud cries mingle together as you come simultaneously, the climax sweeping through you like a tidal wave.

He releases his cum deep inside of you, his desperate cries rattling your brain as you rhythmically contract around him, absorbing each other’s pleasure. The orgasm is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, a wave of pure ecstasy that leaves you breathless.

He slowly collapses onto you, his breathing ragged, his heart pounding against your chest. He holds you tightly in his arms, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion, knowing that this moment has forged an unbreakable bond between you.

As the waves of pleasure subside, his hand gently caresses your shoulder as you both catch your breath. His face resting in the nook of your neck as his body grows heavy.

“I don’t want this to end,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and reluctance. “I’ve never felt anything like this and I want to stay like this forever.”

You stroke his hair gently smiling, feeling the warmth of his breath against your neck. “I don’t want it to end either, Benny,” you whisper back, your voice tender and filled with emotion.

He smiles at your words and reluctantly sits up sliding his large cock back until the heavy tip slips out of your entrance leaving you momentarily empty. He rests his head against your chest, his breathing gradually slowing as he tries to hold onto the connection you’ve just shared.

You continue to stroke his hair affectionately, your fingers weaving through the soft strands, watching his eyes grow heavy as he tries to fight the comforts of sleep.

“It’s alright, Benny,” you soothe him softly. “Just rest now.”

His eyes slowly flutter closed, and you feel his body relax completely against yours as he drifts into a deep sleep. You watch him for a moment, as you hold him in your arms. His face soft and serene, the warmth of his body, the rise and fall of his chest, and the scent of his him all combine to create a profound sense of connection with him.

Continuing to stroke his hair you feel a deep attachment to Benny, realizing he has become so much than you ever expected. The rhythm of his steady breathing lulls you, and your eyes grow heavy, surrendering to the pull of rest. The last thing you feel is the comforting presence of Benny in your arms, as you drift into a deep and satisfying sleep.

🏍️ To be Continued 🏍️

🔗 Benny Cross Part 2: The Vandals 🏍️

Benny brings you to a Vandals biker meeting and introduces you to his club members and their old ladies. Everyone is surprised by your contrasting natures and pokes fun at Benny for dating a ‘fancy girl’.

They privately cast bets on how quickly you’ll use him for a thrill and ditch him once the fun’s over. Little do they know you both are in it for keeps.

You find out more about his rough biker lifestyle and his club leader, Johnny, who has Benny at his beck and call.

🏍️ Benny Cross Tag List 🏍️ @finley-08 @ashleybutler-26 @ifuckindontknow @landlockedmermaid77 @jvanilly @oceanablue @12joeywheelerfangirl @autumnleaves1991-blog @presley1992 @rose-deathman ��️ Always Tags Me List 💌 @burnthheparaphilia @purejasmine @lindszeppelin @abswifey @faegoddessog @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @magicovento @thegabbyh @fallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @lovereadingfanfic @elvismylove04 @denised916 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @meetmeatyourworst @rougegenshin @avidreader73 @jkdaddy01 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @majestyjade @pearlparty @depressedfairie

[shockercoco]

The Lucky One

Benny Cross x reader

Warnings - jealous!reader, some swearing, smoking, mentions of smut, fluff

Word count - 2351

a/n - ngl I wanted to add smut but it just didn’t seem like it fit, also we need more benny imagines ppl👀 i hope you all enjoy :) — read part 2 here !

“I’ve told you this before, and I’ll tell you again – you are one lucky girl,” Kathy tells you from her spot next to you, nodding in Benny’s direction. “Or should I say that he’s the lucky one?”

You laugh as you follow her eyes, looking at Benny playing pool with some of the other Vandals in the corner. Just like any other weekend, you find yourself in this bar with all the other girlfriends as you watch Benny try to win a game of pool.

From the low lighting of the room, you couldn’t deny how good he looked as he leaned against the pool table, waiting his turn. You felt warmth bubble in your stomach, but you casually dismissed it. 

You definitely weren’t the only one who thought this, though, because some of the random floating girls had their eyes on him as well, staring at his tattooed arms that shined from the thin layer of sweat covering them. Some of them were even bold enough to go up to Benny and throw themselves at him, knowing that he was taken, but not caring. 

Everyone once in a while, Benny would find your eyes and shake his head in amusement from the unwanted attention.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you smile at her.

“Whatever you say. All I know is that it will always amaze me that Benny somehow convinced you to go out with him, “ she shakes her head in fake disappointment. “What a shame.”

Another laugh makes its way past your lips, causing you to choke on your drink. Kathy wasn’t dating anyone from the Vandals, but she hung around them a lot since she was close with some of the members – and of course because you were always around.

You turn around once you feel a presence sit down in the seat on the other side of you, revealing Benny who is already looking back at you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders as he gives you a wink.

“What are you saying to her now, Kathy?” he asks with a smile as he looks past you to look at her.

“Nothing she didn’t already know,” she shrugs, giving you a sly smile.

“Which is…?” Benny raises an eyebrow at her.

“It’s girl talk. We can’t tell you, and you wouldn’t want to know either,” you chime in before Kathy could answer. She is notorious for saying something that would get under his skin, but it’s not like it's unwarranted because Benny does the same thing right back to her.

Benny’s about to say something else when someone interrupts him. You all turn to look at Cockroach and Benny’s ex, Kay. Well, it’s not really his ex because they didn’t really date, it’s just a girl he used to ‘have relations’ with a while ago and who is a regular at the bar.

You shoot Kathy a knowing look, to which she returns, before looking back at the standing pair.

“Hey, Benny, a few of us are headed out to have a smoke. Do you want to join?” Cockroach asks, as he playfully shakes Benny’s shoulders. He holds out a cigarette for Benny to take, Benny’s ex gives you a smile before looking over at Benny, giving him a hopeful one and wanting him to say yes.

“Sure,” Benny answers as he grabs the cigarette from his friend’s hand before looking at you and asking, “Do you want to join?”

You shake your head at the offer. He knows you hate smoking and only put up with it because of him, but he didn’t want to leave you out.

“No, you go ahead,” you tell him.

Benny nods, before getting up from his seat and following a small group. You watch as they walk away and out the double doors, though you could still see them through the glass window.

“Why didn’t you go with him?” Kathy asks as the two of you look outside. “If I was you and a girl my man used to have sex with and offered him to smoke, I would be right behind him.”

“It’s not like he’s completely out of my eyesight,” you tell her, your eyes still on Benny. You watch as he accepts a lighter Kay offers, leaning down to light the cigarette with it still in his mouth. He takes a deep breath in and then slowly exhales, a cloud of smoke floating out of his mouth.

“I’m not doubting him, believe me that man loves you too much to even give someone else a chance. I’ve never seen him like this. I am doubting that girl though.”

“I’m not too worried about her,” you point out, but you feel your body contradict itself as you watch Kay laugh at something and place a hand on Benny’s arm to keep herself steady.

You don’t know much about Kay, but from what you’ve seen around the hangout, she seemed nice. Well, nice enough. It’s not like she and Benny broke off on bad terms either, they just stopped seeing each other since Benny had decided to leave town for a couple months. And it’s not like she isn’t attractive.

That had always been one of your biggest fears when it came to your relationship – Benny just deciding to up and leave you without a moment’s notice, or just randomly drop you from his life. He seemed to be pretty happy and content with you, though, always wanting to be around you. That didn’t stop that fear from lingering in the back of your head.

You shake your head, an attempt to make your thoughts disappear, and take a sip from the drink you had been nursing.

Throughout the night, you stay around Kathy. The two of you have a couple more drinks as you both decide to play some rounds at the pool table since most of the guys had walked away. Some of the guys you and Kathy did  like were around to play as well. You joined in on some of the bets and even ended up winning some money, but some of the guys got upset.

While all of this was happening, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking out of the window at Benny. It was mainly to admire him, but you can’t deny the fact that you were trying to read everyone’s lips through the glass. I mean, you couldn’t help yourself. It seemed like Kay was constantly laughing at things Benny would say and vice versa. Then again, they could be pity laughs. You hope they were just pity laughs.

Benny didn’t come back inside until the night ended and people were beginning to head home. He said his goodbyes, even to Kay, before coming back inside and searching for you. His eyes land on you near the pool table with Kathy and he makes his way towards you, grabbing your jacket and his.

“You ready to go?” you hear Benny ask from behind you.

“Oh, yeah. I guess it is late,” you turn around to look at him, no Kay in sight. You put the pool stick back in its spot, Kathy doing the same. 

He hands you your jacket before putting on his leather one as you all exit the bar. 

“You two be careful getting home,” Kathy tells the two of you, mostly to Benny as a warning. He rolls his eyes in response.

“Relax, Kathy, she’ll be fine,” Benny says, handing you a helmet before starting the engine of his motorcycle.

You watch as Kathy walks away, heading towards one of the Vandals already on their bikes and asks for a ride home. You give her a wave as Benny pulls off, before wrapping your arms around his waist, hoping he doesn’t do anything too reckless on the way home.

You hate that you feel this way about Benny staying outside practically the whole night. It’s not like it’s a new thing for him since it's common to see some of the Vandals outside enjoying a cigarette. It’s just that you weren’t a huge fan of Kay being in his company, for an extended period of time at that. 

Again though, you shouldn’t care because he’s going home with you tonight and not her, but you still do.

When the two of you arrive back to your place, you quickly dismount the bike and head inside to take a shower, not wanting Benny to see your face because there’s no doubt that he’ll be able to see right through you. 

You hope he doesn’t try to join you in the shower either, since you’re not particularly in the mood at the moment. Thankfully he doesn’t and just sprawls out on the bed and waits for his turn in the bathroom.

While Benny’s in the shower, you decide to go downstairs and make a cup of tea to help you relax – reading a random newspaper while you wait for the water to boil on the stove. Hopefully this will help you get over the petty thoughts in your mind.

“I forgot to ask you, the guys are having this picnic in a couple of days and I was wondering if you wanted to come?” you hear Benny ask as he enters the kitchen. You glance out of the corner of your eye and take in his appearance – he’s wearing sweatpants and a tank top with his hair still damp.

“Yeah,” you answer, keeping your eyes on the paper on the counter. “Who’s going to be there? everyone?”

He starts listing off some names.

“And Kay?” you ask.

“I guess so, yeah,” Benny blinks, confused as to why you asked, but choosing to ignore it. 

It’s silent for a moment, neither of you saying anything next. Then you hear the sound of boiling water, so you move from leaning against the counter to pour the water into a cup, the tea bag already sitting inside.

Behind you, Benny is staring at you with his eyebrows furrowed, sensing something is up and trying to figure out what. He didn’t do anything tonight, at least he doesn’t think he did, so why did you seem upset? Was it because of someone back at the bar, one of the Vandals?

“What’s up with you?” Benny asks with a tilt of his head.

“Nothing, why?” you shrug, giving the water in a cup a small stir before grabbing your newspaper to read again.

“Because you’ve barely said anything since we left the bar, so what is it?” he asks as he steps closer to you.

“I just said something.”

“Oh wow, four whole sentences,” he sarcastically says. “I’m serious.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m fine, I’m just tired.”

Benny doesn’t believe it for a second. He steps closer to you and takes the newspaper from your hands, wanting you to look at him. He was going to get to the bottom of this.

“What are you doing?” you turn to look at him.

“No, what are you doing? What’s up with this little mood you’re in?”

“Benny, please, it’s too late for this,” you roll your eyes and turn away, reaching for your cup. So much for relaxation.

Benny takes that from your hands too, moving everything out of your reach and using his body to press you against the counter. It took him a minute, but he thinks he has an answer.

“What’s your problem?”

“Why did you ask if Kay was going to the picnic?” 

“I didn’t know it was a problem for me wanting to know who’s attending,” you fold your arms across your chest, you glare up at him.

“It’s not, but you never ask about her. So what is it really?”

“What are you trying to accuse me of?”

“We both know what,” Benny leans down closer to your face, placing his arms on the counter on both sides of you. “I just need you to say it.”

“Fuck you,” you stare into his eyes, his gaze just as intense.

And fuck him for being able to read you like a book.

“So it’s true, then?” He raises his eyebrows in amusement.

There was no way in hell you were going to say you were jealous.

But Benny will. “There’s no need for this facade anymore. You’re jealous, and that’s okay,” He smirks.

You just stare back at him, your jaw clenched and slightly embarrassed.

“And what’s even funnier is that it’s because of someone like her,” he laughs.

You don’t say anything, but look away from his gaze.

“Oh come on, baby, don’t be like that,” He told you, moving his head to try and meet your gaze, but you don’t budge and continue to stare at the wall. “You would think that the fact that I’m sleeping in the house with you is confirmation enough that you’re the one I care for. Not to mention the countless times I’ve left you speechless in the bedroom.”

“Benny!” you gasp, shoving him away from you, but he just comes right back. 

“What made you jealous of her?” He questions, his smirk disappearing and his face becoming more serious.

“Nothing important,” you tell him, trying to get him to drop this conversation. You really were tired, and buddy wanted to go to sleep after an eventful night, but it’s Benny.

“No, no, no. Tell me,” He shakes his head before adding, “Don’t make me force it out of you.”

You hesitate for a moment. “She was practically all over you outside the bar, and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it,” you admit.

“I noticed that too, but I didn’t want to make a scene,” he says and you shoot him another glare. “But since you seem to care so much, I’ll remember to make one next time.”

He glanced down at your lips for a second before leaning in to close the gap between the two of you, but you move your head out of the way and press your finger against his lips.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” He mumbles. “What now?”

Like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[movingmusically]

Good Girl

Synopsis:

A teasing comment in an interview changes everything. The internet notices. Austin notices. And when he offers to take control, to take care of you—you realise you want him to.

Word Count: 11.4k

Masterlist

The press tour had been a whirlwind—early mornings, long flights, endless interviews with the same handful of questions, just worded differently each time. But honestly? You didn’t mind.

For one, you were ridiculously proud of the movie. It had been the kind of project actors dream about—the perfect mix of challenge and chemistry, the kind of story that stuck with people.

And two, it had given you Austin. You’d spent months circling each other on set, tension building until pretending wasn’t an option anymore. By the time filming wrapped, you were his, and he was yours. Eight months later, nothing had changed.

The world had caught on quickly. You weren’t exactly hiding, but you weren’t shouting from the rooftops either. Still, between red carpet glances, the way Austin never quite kept his hands off you, and the way you smiled at him like he’d hung the damn moon—people knew.

Which was why, when the two of you sat down for another round of press, it was business as usual. You sat next to him, legs crossed, holding your microphone loosely while Austin lounged in his chair, one ankle resting over his knee, his arm draped casually over the backrest as he leaned in to speak. Across from you, the interviewer, Josh, was flipping through his notes, clearly enjoying himself.

“So, were you guys rebels growing up? Did you ever get into trouble? Or were you good kids?”

Austin let out a small chuckle, tilting his head as he thought about it. “I feel like I was a fairly obedient, good boy, yeah.”

Josh’s brows lifted in amusement. “Really? You never got into trouble?”

Austin shook his head, shrugging. “Not really. My biggest thing was that as soon as somebody told me to do something, I wanted to do the opposite. Like, I liked cleaning my room, but the second my parents told me to do it? Didn’t wanna do it anymore.”

Josh nodded. “Ah, classic.”

“But I never snuck out or anything. I also didn’t have to because my parents were really cool. My mom always said if I told her everything, she’d support me, give me her opinion, but she never ruled with an iron fist.”

Josh hummed in approval before turning to you. “And you, Y/N? Would your parents say the same?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you said without hesitation, smiling. “I was the goodest girl. Never in trouble, always doing what I was told. If someone gave me instructions, I followed them exactly.”

Josh chuckled, nodding along. Beside you, Austin shifted in his seat, his hand flexing where it rested on his knee, but you barely noticed.

“I mean, I never tested boundaries,” you continued. “If you told me to sit somewhere and not move, I’d stay there until you came back. Even if it was hours later. I was just like that—I listened, I followed directions, I never needed to be told twice.”

Josh let out a slightly strangled laugh. Austin coughed into his fist.

You frowned at their reactions but kept going.

“I always liked knowing what I was supposed to do. Like, rules? Loved them. Structure? The best. I never questioned authority, I just wanted to please people. Like, making my parents proud? That was the best feeling in the world. I thrived off it. Just tell me what you expect, and I’ll do my absolute best to be perfect.”

Josh made a weird noise that sounded like half a laugh, half a choke. Austin pressed his lips together, eyes slightly wider than before.

“…What?” you asked, blinking between them.

Josh coughed. “No, nothing, that’s, uh—very… admirable.”

Austin nodded, a little too quickly. “Yeah. Very admirable.”

The conversation moved on, the interview wrapped up. That night, you and Austin didn’t think much about it. It had been just another stop on the press tour, blending into the dozens of others you’d done over the past few weeks.

It wasn’t until the following week that everything changed.

You were in the middle of a quiet morning—coffee, a slow start, a rare moment of peace before another packed day—when your phone buzzed.

Emma: LMFAOOOOO

You frowned at the screen, confused.

You: What??

Emma: Sis. You broke the internet and I don’t think you even know why.

A pit of mild concern settled in your stomach. You glanced up from your phone. “Babe?”

Austin hummed, flipping a page in the book he was reading. “Yeah?”

“Emma’s saying I broke the internet.”

Austin’s eyes flicked up, brow furrowing slightly. “Why?”

Your stomach tightened slightly, but before you could respond, another message popped up.

Emma: Check Twitter. Actually, no. Here. Let me do the work for you.

A flood of links followed.

You hesitated, fingers hovering over your phone before clicking the first one. The moment the words registered, your stomach dropped.

@randomuser1: THE INTERVIEW JUST AIRED AND I SWEAR TO GOD Y/N DOESN’T KNOW. AUSTIN KNEW. JOSH KNEW. THE INTERNET KNOWS. BUT SHE DOESN’T KNOW.

@subtextqueen: Y/N: “I was the goodest girl, I’d sit still for hours if you told me to.” Austin, gripping the armrest of his chair: deep breath. Josh, short-circuiting: nervous laughter. THE WORLD: screaming into the void

@smutficreader69: NO BECAUSE THIS IS THE FUNNIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN. SHE JUST OUTED HERSELF AS THE MOST SUBBY SUB EVER WITHOUT EVEN REALISING IT AND AUSTIN IS TRYING SO HARD NOT TO LOSE HIS MIND ON CAMERA

You froze, eyes locked on the screen. “Oh my God.”

Austin, finally curious, set his book down and leaned over your shoulder. “…What?”

You whipped around to look at him, wide-eyed. “The internet thinks I—” You stopped, pressing your lips together, then groaned. “Oh my God.”

Austin squinted at the screen, scanning the tweets. It took him all of two seconds before he burst out laughing.

Like, actual, full-body laughter.

You smacked his arm. “Austin!”

He barely even registered it, leaning back, wheezing. “Baby…” he managed between laughs. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t know!” you insisted, heat creeping up your neck.

“I know,” he said, grinning. “That’s what makes it so good.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I can’t believe I said all of that on camera.”

Austin wrapped an arm around you, still chuckling. “Hey,” he murmured, voice softer now. “It’s not a bad thing.”

You exhaled, peeking at him. “I just didn’t realise.”

His thumb traced slow circles over your knuckles, his expression still amused but softer now, more thoughtful. “Have you ever thought about it?”

You frowned, still feeling the heat in your face from the absolute chaos happening online. “About what?”

He tilted his head slightly, watching you. “About… what they’re saying.”

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “No. Not like that. I mean, I knew I was a rule-follower, but I never thought—” You gestured vaguely at your phone, which was still lighting up with notifications. “I never thought it meant anything.”

Austin hummed, his fingers still gently stroking the back of your hand. “It makes sense, though.”

You gave him a look. “Does it?”

He chuckled. “Baby, you do like rules. You like knowing what’s expected. You like making people happy.”

You exhaled, tilting your head back against the couch. “I mean… yeah. That’s just how I’ve always been.”

He smiled, his fingers tracing higher, skimming your wrist. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Your stomach fluttered at the way his voice dropped slightly, just enough to make you aware of it.

You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek. “You’ve never brought this up before.”

“I didn’t wanna assume,” he admitted. “And I didn’t think it really mattered. But… watching you say all that? Baby, I was losing my mind.”

You flushed. “Austin.”

“What?” His grin was boyish, teasing, but his fingers on your wrist were not. “You have no idea how much I wanted to take you out of that interview and—”

You slapped a hand over his mouth, your whole body going warm. “Oh my God.”

His laughter rumbled against your palm before you let him go, sinking further into the couch. He watched you for a moment, his teasing expression shifting into something more serious, more curious.

“Have you ever wanted that?” he asked, voice lower now, like he was testing the waters.

You thought about it. Really thought about it.

Had you ever wanted to let go like that? To hand over control, to not have to think, just follow? You weren’t sure you’d ever considered it before, not in so many words, but the way your body reacted to Austin’s touch, to his voice—

Your stomach flipped. The thought should’ve felt ridiculous, but it didn’t. It made sense. It wasn’t just about liking the praise—it was something deeper.

You liked knowing what to do. You liked when things were clear, when you didn’t have to guess or hesitate. And when Austin took control—when he guided you, when he told you exactly what he wanted—it felt... right.

Had it always been like that? Had you always liked that feeling?

Your stomach tightened.

“…Maybe,” you admitted softly.

Austin studied you, his fingers now barely ghosting over your pulse point. “We don’t have to,” he murmured. “If you’re not into it, if it’s not something you want—”

“I do,” you cut in, surprising yourself. Your throat felt dry, your pulse kicking a little harder. “I think… I do.”

Something flickered in his gaze—something thoughtful, something knowing. His thumb brushed over your wrist, slow and deliberate.

“We’ve got a packed day,” he murmured, voice lower now, curiosity still dancing in his eyes. “But… we can talk more about it later.”

The implication sent heat curling in your stomach. You swallowed, nodding.

“Yeah.” Your voice came out softer than you expected. “Later.”

Austin smirked, giving your hand a final squeeze before letting go. “Looking forward to it.”

And just like that, the moment shifted back to normal—except now, there was something else there, lingering beneath the surface.

The press tour was over.

No more early morning flights, no more crammed schedules, no more sitting under hot lights while answering the same five questions in slightly different ways. After weeks of moving from one city to the next, you were finally home.

And yet—

You still couldn’t stop thinking about it.

About him.

Austin had been completely normal for the rest of the press tour. That was the problem.

He hadn’t brought up the conversation again—not once. Not a single teasing remark, not a knowing smirk, not even a look that suggested he was thinking about it. He’d just carried on as if nothing had changed.

Except it had.

It was in the way your stomach flipped when his voice dropped just a little lower than usual. The way your skin tingled when he touched the small of your back.

The way you caught yourself watching him more than usual—wondering what was going on inside his head.

Austin wasn’t the type to jump into something without thinking it through. If he hadn’t mentioned it, there had to be a reason. Maybe he was just waiting for you to bring it up. You swallowed, curling deeper into the couch.

It had been hours since you’d gotten home, but you still felt unsettled. Like something was waiting just beneath the surface, hovering in the quiet between you and Austin.

Speak of the devil—

You glanced up as he walked in from the kitchen, two glasses of whiskey in hand. He wore an old, well-worn t-shirt and sweatpants, a stark contrast from the designer suits he’d practically lived in for the past few weeks.

You accepted the glass as he sat down beside you, tucking one leg under the other, settling in like this was the first time he could breathe in weeks.

“Feels weird being home, huh?” he mused, taking a slow sip.

You hummed in agreement. “Like I forgot how to just… sit still.”

His lips twitched. “You? Miss ‘I follow instructions perfectly’? I don’t believe it.”

Your stomach flipped.

You shot him a look, heat creeping up your neck. “I knew you were thinking about it.”

Austin smirked against the rim of his glass. “I never said I wasn’t.”

Your heart stuttered. You set your drink down on the coffee table, suddenly unable to focus on anything other than the way he was looking at you.

Austin exhaled, setting his own glass down before shifting closer, his arm resting along the back of the couch.

When he leaned in, brushing his lips over yours, it was slow. Unhurried.

You sighed against him, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. His hand came up to your jaw, his thumb grazing over your cheekbone, tilting your head slightly.

And just like that, you followed.

You let him adjust the angle, let him take control of the kiss exactly how he wanted—and you liked it.

Austin hummed, breaking away just enough to let his breath ghost over your lips. His fingers traced down, skimming your wrist—just like he had that morning in the hotel.

He tilted his head, studying you, and then—

“You like that, don’t you?”

You froze.

Your pulse hammered against your ribs.

Austin’s eyes stayed on yours, patient, waiting—not pushing, just watching.

Your breath was shaky when you finally answered.

“…Yeah.”

His lips twitched, something warm flickering in his gaze. His fingers squeezed lightly around your wrist, not tight, not forceful—just present.

“Good.” His voice was soft, smooth, edged with something deeper. “Because if we’re gonna do this, I wanna do it right.”

You swallowed hard. “Right?”

Austin nodded, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin. “I’ve been doing some research.”

Your stomach flipped.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” He raised a brow, amused. “That’s all you’ve got?”

Heat bloomed in your chest. “I—I just…” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “You researched?”

His lips twitched. “Of course I did. You really think I’d jump into something like this without making sure I know how to take care of you?”

Something about the way he said it—take care of you—made your stomach clench.

You swallowed. “What did you find?”

Austin smirked. “You really wanna get into that now, sweetheart?”

Your face burned. “I mean—I should know, right?”

His smirk softened, turning into something more sincere. “You should. And we will talk about it. But before anything else, I wanna make sure you’re comfortable.”

You nodded quickly. “I am.”

Austin gave you a look. “No, I mean really comfortable. This only works if you feel safe, if you know you can always stop things if you want to.”

You bit your lip. “Okay.”

His fingers traced the inside of your wrist again, grounding you.

“There’s something called the colour system,” he murmured. “It’s simple—green, yellow, red. Green means you’re good, you’re enjoying it. Yellow means slow down, maybe check in. Red means stop—no questions asked.”

You stared at him, your heart thudding against your ribs.

He was serious.

Not just about doing this—but about doing it right.

Warmth bloomed in your chest, curling around your ribs.

“You really thought about this,” you murmured.

Austin smiled. “Of course I did.”

And that was the moment you knew.

This wasn’t just some passing curiosity, some fleeting experiment.

Austin wanted to take care of you.

And you wanted to let him.

A slow exhale left your lips, your body settling into the realisation, letting it sink into your bones.

Austin’s thumb traced over your wrist again, his touch light, thoughtful. Still watching you. Still waiting.

That same familiar warmth curled in your stomach—the same pull that had been there from the moment this conversation started.

You looked up at him, and he must have seen it in your eyes.

Because the next thing you knew, he was kissing you.

The movie had long since become background noise. You weren’t sure what was happening on the screen anymore—not when Austin was kissing you like this.

You were curled into his side, legs tangled, fingers slipping into the fabric of his t-shirt as his lips moved against yours, slow and deep. It had started soft, unhurried, but now there was something heavier beneath it.

His hands skimmed over your waist, his thumb brushing just beneath the hem of your top before his fingers flexed, gripping you just enough to make your breath hitch.

Austin noticed.

Of course he did.

He pulled back just enough to let his nose brush against yours, his fingers still resting warm and firm on your skin.

“You still good?” he murmured.

You swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t move in again. Instead, he waited—watching you, giving you the space to process.

You knew what this was.

This was the moment—the point where you could still pull back, still pretend like none of this had changed between you.

But you didn’t want to.

You wanted this. You wanted him.

Austin exhaled, dragging his fingers higher, slow, deliberate. “I need you to remember something for me, sweetheart.”

You shivered. “Okay.”

His thumb traced circles over your ribs, grounding. “I’m taking the lead here. But you?” His eyes stayed locked on yours. “You’re in control.”

Your breath caught. “I—”

“You say red, I stop.” His voice was smooth, but firm. “You say yellow, I slow down. Green means you’re good.”

You nodded quickly, pulse kicking. “Got it.”

Austin gave you a look.

“Say it back to me, baby.”

You licked your lips, heart pounding. “Green means I’m good, yellow means slow down, red means stop.”

Austin’s fingers squeezed at your side, approving. “Good girl.”

Heat flared through you at the praise.

He noticed.

His lips twitched like he was fighting a smirk, but he let it slide for now. Instead, his fingers traced slow lines up your back, settling at the nape of your neck.

You hesitated for a moment before grinning, trying to lighten the moment.

“So… do I need to call you sir or something?”

Austin let out a low chuckle, his thumb stroking lightly over your skin. “Only if you want to, baby.”

You swallowed hard, but your grin didn’t fade. “You have a preference?”

His fingers tightened, just slightly. “I like hearing you say my name when you’re like this.”

Your breath hitched.

His name. Not sir, not anything else—just Austin.

Something about that made warmth curl through your chest. Like it was intimate, just between you and him.

You swallowed hard, nodding.

Austin smiled, kissing you again—slower this time, like he was savoring the way you were melting against him. His hands mapped your waist, your back, his lips pressing firmer, deeper.

Everything was so much more intense now, knowing where this was headed.

Then, he pulled back.

You blinked, dazed. “What—?”

Austin smirked, his hands dropping to your thighs as he leaned back against the couch.

“Go to the bedroom,” he said, voice slow and deliberate.

Your stomach flipped.

“Take off your clothes.”

Your breath caught.

Then—

“Sit on the edge of the bed and wait for me.”

Heat rushed through you.

Austin let the words settle between you, his expression calm, patient, but expectant.

He was watching you so closely, waiting for any hesitation.

But you didn’t hesitate.

You hovered for a second, your lips brushing his, breathing in the heat between you. Your fingers curled at the hem of his shirt, like maybe—just maybe—you’d stay a little longer.

Austin’s hand slid lower, tracing the curve of your hip, his voice a warm hum against your mouth.

“Go on, baby,” he murmured.

Your stomach flipped. You swallowed, then slowly pulled back. His gaze followed you as you stood.

And then—

His hand smacked your ass, light but undeniable.

You gasped—not in shock, but in pure, giddy surprise. A laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it.

Austin grinned, tilting his head at you, pleased.

“There she is,” he murmured.

Your heart hammered.

His smile only widened as you turned and ran off to the bedroom.

He didn’t follow immediately.

You could feel him waiting—making you anticipate, making you think about what was coming.

And God, it was so much worse than if he had just followed you right away.

The bedroom felt different like this.

It wasn’t like before—when you’d stumble in together, tangled up in laughter and kisses, pulling at each other’s clothes in a rush to get to the bed.

Now?

Now, you were waiting for him.

You sat at the edge of the bed, exactly how he’d told you to. The air felt warmer against your skin, every inch of you aware of the anticipation curling in your stomach.

He hadn’t followed you immediately.

It had only been a minute or two—long enough for your breath to steady, for your skin to prickle with awareness. You weren’t nervous, not really. Mostly, you just wanted.

The sound of the door creaking open pulled your focus.

Your eyes were already on the doorway when Austin stepped inside, his movements slow, unrushed.

He didn’t say anything at first.

Just stood there.

Watching.

The flickering light from the hallway cast shadows over his face, but you could still see the way his gaze dragged over you, taking his time, letting the moment settle between you.

He exhaled slowly, voice smooth, assessing.

“…Look at you.”

Your stomach tightened.

His eyes didn’t leave yours as he stepped further inside, the door clicking shut behind him.

Austin took his time crossing the room, his steps slow and measured. Not hesitant—never hesitant. Just deliberate, as if he wanted you to feel every second of the space closing between you.

Your pulse kicked hard as he came closer, your eyes locked onto his, unable to look away.

He was still in the same sweatpants and t-shirt he’d been wearing on the couch, but there was something different now. Something in the way his body moved—loose, controlled, completely in command of the moment.

By the time he reached you, the anticipation curled so tight in your stomach you thought you might tremble.

Austin stopped just in front of you.

He didn’t touch you immediately. Instead, he just stood there, looking at you. Letting you feel the weight of his presence, his focus.

Your breathing shallowed out, but you didn’t move—not because you weren’t allowed to, but because you didn’t want to. Because you wanted to be right here, locked in this moment, waiting for him to take that last step.

And then, he did.

One hand lifted, fingers skimming so lightly along your jaw before settling firmly at your chin.

A controlled touch.

Not rough, but deliberate.

His thumb traced a slow path across your cheekbone before tilting your chin up, guiding your gaze back to his.

Your breath caught.

Austin hummed, almost like he was committing this moment to memory.

“…Good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, thumb pressing just slightly against your skin.

The words sent a hot, unshakable pull straight through your core.

You weren’t even sure you breathed before he leaned down, his mouth brushing against yours, so soft you barely felt it—

A tease.

A test.

Like he wanted to see if you’d chase him.

Your fingers curled at your sides. You wanted to.

Austin chuckled, the sound warm, knowing.

His grip tightened just slightly, his free hand skimming over your knee, tracing.

“Tell me how you feel,” he murmured.

A deliberate check-in. Not because he thought you’d hesitate—but because he needed to hear you say it.

Your pulse pounded. “I feel good.”

Austin’s lips quirked. “Yeah?”

You swallowed. “Yeah.”

His thumb stroked over your cheek, his gaze still locked on yours.

“Good.”

His hand drifted lower, fingertips ghosting over your collarbone, slow and unrushed.

“You’re doing so well for me already,” he said softly.

You shivered.

His knees bent slightly, his posture relaxed but controlled as he brought himself closer, lower. Enough that you didn’t have to crane your neck too much, just enough to keep you looking up at him.

You weren’t sure who exhaled first before his lips were on yours again—firmer this time, undeniably leading.

Guiding you into exactly what he wanted.

And you?

You followed.

Austin’s lips moved slow and sure against yours, deepening the kiss just enough to pull you further under.

His thumb traced lazy circles against your cheek, a gentle contrast to the firm grip still holding your chin in place.

Leading.

Guiding.

Watching how you responded.

When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t sudden. He let it linger, breathing against your lips for a second before his fingers tilted your face just slightly to the side, exposing more of your neck.

You let him.

He hummed lowly, dragging the back of his fingers down the column of your throat, following their path with his eyes, like he was memorising you in real time.

His free hand, the one still resting lightly on your knee, squeezed.

A reminder.

“Keep your hands where they are,” he murmured.

A soft instruction.

Not forceful, not a warning—just a quiet expectation.

Your breath caught, but you didn’t hesitate. You stayed still, fingers curled into the blanket beneath you, even as his hands continued their slow, teasing path over your skin.

Austin smiled.

“Good girl.”

The words sent a hot, shivering pulse through you.

His lips pressed against the corner of your jaw, not quite kissing—just lingering there, close enough that you felt the warmth of his breath.

“You like that, don’t you?”

Your stomach fluttered.

You swallowed hard. “Yes.”

His teeth grazed the spot just below your ear.

“That’s my girl.”

A thrill shot through you, unexpected and overwhelming, curling in your stomach so fast you barely had time to register it.

Austin chuckled against your skin, feeling the way you reacted before you even had the chance to process it yourself.

He always noticed.

The hand on your knee moved higher, fingers trailing up your thigh, featherlight but deliberate.

His lips brushed against your ear, his voice low and controlled.

“I think you’re ready for the next instruction, sweetheart.”

Your breath shuddered. “Tell me.”

Austin smirked, pulling back just enough to look at you again, his thumb skimming one last time over your cheek.

“Lay back for me.”

Your pulse jumped.

Not out of nerves, but out of anticipation.

Austin didn’t rush you. He never did. He just waited, watching you carefully as you shifted, leaning back until your spine met the mattress.

His gaze dragged down the length of you, slow and approving.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, every inch of your skin flushed, exposed, waiting.

Austin hummed, low and thoughtful.

“Hands above your head.”

Heat curled low in your stomach.

Slowly, deliberately, you did as he asked, letting your arms stretch above you, settling against the sheets.

Austin’s lips quirked.

“See? You’re a natural at this.”

You exhaled sharply, your chest rising and falling with the weight of the moment.

Austin’s hands trailed over you, fingertips grazing down your stomach, tracing over the curves of your hips, mapping his way down with infuriating patience.

His mouth followed, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone, your ribs—each one slower, more deliberate than the last.

His pace never changed.

No rush. No urgency.

Just complete control.

And you?

You could barely breathe.

Austin’s voice came, a warm murmur against your skin.

“You still good, baby?”

Your breath hitched.

“Yes,” you whispered.

Austin hummed in approval, his lips grazing the dip between your ribs before he lifted his head, letting his gaze roam over you.

“Now, sweetheart,” he murmured, his hands tracing slow, idle circles over your hips, “I want you to do something else for me.”

Your pulse jumped, anticipation curling low in your stomach.

“Spread your legs.”

Heat flooded through you at the quiet authority in his voice.

You hesitated for just a second—not out of reluctance, but because you wanted to savor the moment, the weight of his words sinking in. Then, you did as he asked. Slowly, deliberately, you parted your thighs, feeling the cool air graze over your already overheated skin.

Austin’s breath hitched.

It was subtle, barely there, but you caught it. And that was the moment you knew—he was just as affected by this as you were.

His hands smoothed down your thighs, fingers pressing just firmly enough to keep you exactly as he wanted. His control was unwavering. He wasn’t just touching you—he was positioning you.

And then—His grip tightened. “Don’t move.”

Your breath stalled in your throat. Austin’s voice was still smooth, steady, but now there was an edge to it, something undeniable, commanding.

Your pulse thrummed against your ribs. Austin watched you, waiting, searching for any hesitation—but there was none.

So, when his fingers finally drifted lower, his touch was so unhurried, so deliberate, you thought you might lose your mind before he even started.

You wanted to shift, wanted to press up into his touch, but his words still echoed in your head.

Don’t move.

You clenched your hands into the sheets above you, breathing hard as he finally—finally—gave you what you’d been waiting for.

The first stroke of his fingers was agonizingly slow, a teasing drag through your slickness, spreading the wetness he found there.

Austin let out a low, satisfied hum.

“So good for me,” he murmured. “Already so wet, baby.”

Your whole body tensed, your thighs threatening to tremble against his hold.

He felt it. And he didn’t allow it. His grip tightened just slightly, a reminder.

Your breath came out shaky. “Austin—”

A sharp squeeze to your thigh. “Careful.”

The warning was gentle but firm, the kind that made heat rush straight to your core. You swallowed, forcing yourself to stay still.

Austin rewarded you immediately.

His fingers circled your clit with slow, devastating precision, never too much, never too little—just enough to have your stomach twisting with need.

Your fingers dug into the sheets, desperate to ground yourself.

Austin noticed.

His lips curved into a pleased smirk, his other hand dragging over your stomach, soothing you as his fingers kept their slow, ruthless pace.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured. “You’re taking it so well.”

You whined, your head tipping back.

Austin chuckled against your skin, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against your hip, his breath warm and steady, his grip still firm on your thigh—keeping you exactly where he wanted. But then, as his fingers circled with devastating precision, a sharp jolt of pleasure shot through you, and before you could stop yourself, your back arched.

It was instinct, reflex—your body responding to him before your mind could catch up.

Austin’s fingers stilled instantly.

The shift was so subtle, so controlled, that at first, you barely registered what had happened. But then he pulled away. Not roughly, not as a punishment, but with calm, deliberate intent. His fingers left your skin, retreating, while his grip on your thigh remained firm—a quiet reminder that he was still in control.

Your breath hitched, heat flashing through you, not just from frustration but from the sharp, sudden awareness that you’d broken the rule.

Austin exhaled, his smirk edging into something deeper, something knowing. He dragged his thumb in slow, lazy circles over your thigh—not to soothe, but to make you wait. To let the loss of his touch sink in.

“What did I tell you, sweetheart?” His voice was smooth, even, but there was a quiet weight behind it, something unmistakably firm.

You swallowed hard, pulse pounding. “…Not to move.”

Austin hummed, pleased you remembered, but he didn’t give you what you wanted—not yet. Instead, his free hand traced idle patterns along your stomach, fingers dragging over your heated skin, but never quite where you needed him most. He was making you feel it, making you sit in the tension of the moment, fully aware of what had happened and what it meant.

“And what did you do?”

Your fingers clenched against the sheets above you, heat crawling up your neck. “I—I moved.”

“Mmm.” His fingers trailed lower, teasing, but never quite touching, his breath ghosting against your thigh. “You did, didn’t you?”

The teasing lilt in his voice sent a fresh rush of heat through you. You wanted to squirm, to press your thighs together, to do anything to relieve the aching need he’d built up in you. But you knew better now.

Austin let the silence stretch, letting the moment settle between you. And then, just when you thought you might break from the waiting—

“Let’s try that again.”

And this time, when he touched you again, it was worse.

Slower.

More controlled.

Every movement designed to push you to the edge, to test how well you could follow.

And now?

Now, you didn’t move.

Not until he let you.

Austin’s touch was back, but this time, he wasn’t just touching you.

He was testing you.

His fingers teased right along the edge of where you needed him, the pressure just light enough to make your thighs tremble with restraint. The worst part? You knew he was doing it on purpose. You could see it in the way his lips curled at the edges, that slow, knowing smirk that told you he was watching, waiting to see if you’d break again.

But you didn’t.

Not this time.

You kept your arms where they belonged, stretched above your head, fingers curling against the sheets, muscles tight with effort. Your thighs stayed parted, exactly how he told you to keep them, your body held in perfect, obedient stillness.

Austin exhaled a quiet hum, his fingers tracing slow, measured circles over your clit. “That’s it,” he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s my girl.”

The praise sent a pulse of heat straight through your core, but you held firm.

Austin’s hand drifted lower, teasing through your slickness before pressing two fingers inside you, slow and deliberate, filling you with an unhurried precision that had your whole body tightening around him.

You gasped, your nails digging into the sheets. Your hips twitched—small, barely perceptible, but enough.

Austin’s movements didn’t stop immediately, but his rhythm shifted—not easing up, not punishing, just letting you feel the change. A silent reminder.

A pleased sound rumbled low in his chest, and he tilted his head slightly, observing you with that same sharp, calculated focus. “You feel that, sweetheart?”

The weight of his attention made your breath catch. He was always so attuned to you, always catching the smallest shifts in your body.

You swallowed hard, barely managing to nod.

Austin’s fingers curled just right, pressing into a spot that sent a sharp, pleasure-laced shock up your spine.

Your breath hitched.

His voice dipped lower. “You’re taking me so well.”

The words only made the heat in your stomach coil tighter, hotter. The pressure was building too fast, too intense, too much.

Your thighs tensed, your stomach quivered, your whole body on the verge of something devastating.

Austin felt it. He always did.

“Almost there, baby?” His lips brushed against your inner thigh, teasing, coaxing, but still in control.

You let out a breathy whimper, barely able to form words. “Y-Yes.”

His fingers didn’t slow. Didn’t ease up.

But he wasn’t letting you go just yet.

“Hold it for me.”

Your body shook.

Austin’s fingers kept pressing, circling, building, but the one thing you needed most—the release, the permission—he wasn’t giving it to you.

Not yet.

“Stay right there,” he murmured, his voice like silk over gravel. “Don’t come until I tell you.”

Your entire body locked up, trapped on the razor-thin edge of pleasure, every nerve burning with the effort of holding it back.

But you did it.

You held it.

Because he told you to.

Austin’s free hand slid up your stomach, his touch light, reassuring. “So good for me, sweetheart.”

His thumb pressed down harder, his fingers curling deep—

The world tilted.

You were unraveling, the pleasure cresting so violently your body nearly betrayed you—nearly—but you clung to his words, to the last thread of restraint, waiting, waiting—

And then—

Austin exhaled, his lips grazing your thigh as he finally, finally gave you what you needed.

“Come for me.”

The command sent you spiraling.

Pleasure crashed over you, white-hot and overwhelming, your body shaking as you let go, every inch of you surrendering completely to the force of it. Your breath came shaky, uneven, gasping, your thighs threatening to close around his hand, but Austin didn’t let you.

He held you open, held you through it, his fingers never stopping until he’d wrung every last drop of pleasure from you.

When it finally, finally subsided, you felt boneless, your limbs heavy, your skin flushed and buzzing.

Austin pressed a slow, lingering kiss against your stomach, soothing, grounding.

“Breathe, baby,” he murmured.

You did.

A slow inhale, your chest rising, falling, settling.

Austin watched you carefully, his hands still warm against your thighs, his eyes dark but undeniably soft. “You okay?”

You blinked up at him, still catching your breath.

And then, a small, blissed-out laugh slipped from your lips. “Yeah.”

Austin grinned, leaning up until he was hovering over you, his lips just barely brushing yours.

“You did so well for me.”

Heat bloomed low in your stomach again, but this time, it was softer—a slow, warm glow rather than a burning need.

He lifted one of your wrists gently, running his thumb over the crease of your palm before guiding it down, down, down—

Letting you feel the way he wanted to bring you back.

His other hand followed, his touch warm, steady, easing the tension from your arms as he finally, finally let you move again.

Only then did you reach for him, instinctively pulling him closer.

Austin let you, pressing himself against you, covering you with his warmth.

And when he kissed you, it was unhurried, lingering, full of quiet satisfaction.

Your breath was still uneven, your pulse a slow, deep thrum in your ears, your body heavy with the aftershocks of pleasure. But Austin?

Austin wasn’t done.

You knew it before he even said a word. You could feel it. In the way his body still hovered over yours, the way his fingers still moved—never idle, never aimless. Just deliberate. Deciding.

You swallowed hard, already feeling the warmth start to build again, even though you’d barely recovered.

Austin hummed low in his throat, his fingers traced lower, skimming over your ribs, dragging over the curve of your breast before cupping you firmly, fully.

Your breath hitched.

Austin smiled, slow and satisfied. Like he was testing how sensitive you still were.

And when his thumb brushed over your nipple—you shuddered.

Austin didn’t rush. His hands moved with the same measured, deliberate control he’d kept all night—mapping you, exploring you, playing with you like he had all the time in the world. Then, his lips were on your breast.

Your breath stuttered.

He started slow, dragging his lips over the curve, breath warm, fingers still teasing and tracing, never quite giving you enough. Then, he licked—a slow, deliberate stroke over your nipple, wet and warm, so careful, like he wanted to see exactly how you’d react before doing it again.

Your body betrayed you instantly. Your breath hitched, your thighs twitching, heat bolting straight between your legs like a live wire. Austin smirked. He felt it. Of course he did.

He wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking hard. A sharp gasp tore from your throat, your back arching slightly as his hand squeezed your other breast, his thumb rolling your nipple between his fingers, keeping you trapped between two perfect sensations. He sucked, licked, flicked, each movement precise, calculated, like he was testing just how much he could unravel you with his mouth alone.

His breath was warm against your damp skin when he pulled off, lips twitching with quiet amusement as he took in the way you trembled beneath him.

Austin shifted, his fingers dragging down your ribs, your waist, your hips, like he was testing how sensitive you’d become. Your whole body shivered at his touch. His voice dropped lower, smoother. “Tell me your colour, sweetheart.”

You swallowed, barely able to think past the heat pooling low in your stomach. “Green.”

Austin hummed, pleased. “Good girl.”

Then, without warning, he pulled back.

Your breath caught as you watched him lean back onto his knees, reaching for the hem of his shirt. And then—he pulled it over his head.

Fuck.

The sight of him—bare, toned, gorgeous, every inch of him flushed with heat, the faintest sheen of sweat on his chest—made your stomach tighten, fluttering, wanting. Your thighs shifted.

His smirk deepened as he stood and kicked off his sweatpants, leaving him completely bare. You couldn’t breathe. Your eyes dropped—

And your stomach flipped.

Austin was hard.

Painfully, devastatingly hard.

For you.

And when his fingers wrapped around himself, a soft, helpless sound slipped from your throat.

Austin groaned, slow and low, stroking himself, taking his time, letting you watch. “See what you do to me?”

Your whole body flushed, the heat crawling down your chest, your stomach, settling low, low, low. You could barely think past it, past the way his hand moved, past the way his muscles tensed, past the way he let you take in every inch of him, knowing exactly what it was doing to you.

Austin exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head like he was just as wrecked as you were. “You like watching, don’t you?”

You barely had it in you to answer. “…Yes.”

Austin’s grin deepened. He leaned in again, one hand still lazily stroking himself, the other trailing up your stomach, between your breasts, wrapping gently around your throat. Not squeezing. Not holding. Just resting there. Letting you feel the warmth of his palm, the weight of his touch, the control of it. His lips hovered over yours, so close you could taste his breath.

“You ready for your next instruction, baby?”

Your pulse pounded, heat curling tighter in your stomach, everything in you locked onto him, onto the moment, onto the way his fingers flexed lightly around your throat. You swallowed, shivering beneath his touch.

“Yes.”

Austin’s thumb dragged over your pulse point, slow, approving. His voice came low, dark, commanding.

“Tell me what you want.”

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t know—God, you knew. But saying it out loud, admitting it, asking for it—that was part of the game, wasn’t it?

Austin’s lips quirked, like he could see your hesitation, like he knew exactly what was happening in your head.

His grip stayed firm around himself as he watched you, his strokes slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every second. “Come on, sweetheart.” His voice was soft, coaxing, but edged with quiet authority. “Use your words.”

His other hand shifted, fingers sliding lower, tracing over your collarbone, then lower still, skimming the valley between your breasts, dragging the moment out.

Your whole body tensed, trembling. Your nails curled into the sheets, your thighs twitching as you sucked in a sharp breath.

“…I want you to touch me.”

Austin’s smirk deepened, but his eyes stayed locked onto yours, steady, dark, unwavering. “Where?”

Your face flushed hot. “You know where.”

Austin tutted, shaking his head, clearly enjoying every second of this. His fingers traced over your stomach, light and teasing, never quite dipping lower. “I do,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “But I wanna hear you say it.”

Your stomach tightened. He was dragging it out, keeping you hovering right on the edge of desperation, making you admit exactly what you needed.

You swallowed hard. Then—

“My pussy,” you breathed. “I want your mouth on me.”

Austin groaned, his jaw tightening. His fingers flexed around his cock, the slow pull of his strokes matching the way his eyes raked over you, hungry, dark, full of nothing but want.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with approval. “Look at you.”

Your breath caught, your body thrumming at the way he was looking at you—like you were something to be devoured.

Then—without breaking eye contact—Austin slid further down, shifting between your legs.

You barely had time to process it before his hands were on your thighs, holding you open, keeping you exactly how he wanted.

He was so close.

His breath ghosted over your already aching, throbbing heat, teasing, lingering, letting you feel just how close he was to giving you exactly what you needed.

You whimpered, breath shuddering.

Austin smirked. “You’re already shaking, sweetheart.”

Then—he licked.

A slow, wet, devastating drag of his tongue, pressing just enough to make your whole body jolt.

Your thighs tensed, threatening to close around him, but Austin’s grip tightened instantly, keeping you open, keeping you where he wanted.

“Ah-ah,” he murmured, his voice rough, dark, indulgent. “Stay still for me.”

Your breath hitched.

He did it again, a slow, torturous flick of his tongue, followed by the softest, teasing suction around your clit.

Your whole body arched, a desperate, broken sound slipping from your lips.

Austin groaned, sucking harder, his grip tightening, keeping you locked in place as his mouth worked you over with calculated precision.

Your fingers clenched the sheets, your stomach tightening, the pleasure coiling low, deep, unbearable.

And the worst part?

He wasn’t going fast.

Austin was taking his time, savoring the way your body tensed, trembled, begged for more.

Your head dropped back against the pillows, a wrecked whimper spilling from your lips.

Austin chuckled against you, sending vibrations straight through your core. “You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, almost to himself.

You gasped, your hands twitching, aching to reach for him, to grab his hair, to pull him closer—

But you didn’t.

You remembered the rules.

You stayed still.

Austin noticed.

And he rewarded you.

His tongue flicked faster, the pressure increasing, circling, sucking, stroking—

You gasped, thighs trembling, vision hazy.

Austin groaned against you, his hands digging into your thighs, keeping you open, keeping you his.

Then—he pulled back.

A strangled, desperate whimper tore from your throat.

Austin grinned, his lips slick, his breath heavy. “You wanna come, baby?”

You were shaking. “Yes,” you choked out.

Austin tilted his head, dragging his thumb through the mess he’d made of you, barely applying pressure, just enough to drive you insane.

“Then beg for it.”

“Please, Austin.”

The words slipped from your lips, barely more than a whimper.

Austin grinned against your skin. “You can do better than that, baby.”

His fingers flexed over your thighs, keeping them spread, keeping you open. “Tell me exactly what you need.”

You swallowed hard, pulse hammering, voice shaking.

“Please, I—I want to come.”

Austin hummed, dragging his lips over the inside of your thigh, teasing, slow. “Where?”

Heat rushed through your chest, down your stomach, pooling between your legs. You could barely breathe past it. You whimpered, your fingers twisting into the sheets. “I want to come on your mouth.”

A groan rumbled in Austin’s chest, deep, wrecked, satisfied. “That’s my girl.”

Then—he gave you exactly what you begged for.

His mouth was back on you in an instant, hot, wet, relentless.

His tongue flicked over your clit, faster now, harder, a devastating contrast to the slow, torturous teasing from before.

Your back arched off the bed, a wrecked moan ripping from your throat.

Austin held you down, kept you right where he wanted, kept you pinned beneath the weight of his control.

His tongue moved in perfect, ruthless strokes, sucking, circling, flicking, dragging you closer and closer to the edge—

You gasped, whimpered, your thighs trembling violently.

Austin could feel it.

His grip tightened, his tongue working you over with precise, practiced pressure, his groan vibrating against you.

You were so fucking close, dangling over the edge, the pleasure spiraling, cresting, blinding.

Your body locked up, your breath catching—

Austin felt the shift immediately.

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t ease up.

Didn’t let up until—

Pleasure slammed through you, sharp and overwhelming, ripping you apart at the seams.

Your whole body shook, wrecked, trembling, your pulse thundering, your thighs squeezing against Austin’s grip.

Austin didn’t let go.

He held you down, held you through it, his mouth still moving, still licking, still pushing you through every last wave of it.

You let out a helpless sob, your vision white-hot, your body pulsing.

Austin groaned against you, licking you through every last tremor, refusing to let you come down easily.

You were panting, gasping, wrecked, every nerve still tingling, your body limp against the sheets.

Finally, finally, Austin pulled back.

His lips were slick, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. He watched you carefully, his hands still warm on your thighs, grounding you.

His gaze dragged up your body, dark and heated, but laced with something softer, more thoughtful.

“You still with me, baby?” His voice was low, warm, edged with something indulgent but unmistakably careful.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. “Yeah.”

Austin smirked, his thumb tracing absentminded circles over your hip. “Good.”

His hands skimmed up your body, slow, deliberate, savoring every inch of your skin as he moved.

“Because I’m not done with you yet.”

Your breath shuddered, your pulse still pounding, your body still buzzing from the last orgasm he’d pulled from you.

The thought sent a ripple of heat through your core—because you wanted more. You knew you did. But your muscles were already trembling, every inch of you sensitive, flushed, wrecked.

Could you handle it?

Austin must have seen the flicker of hesitation on your face, because his touch softened, his gaze sharpening in that way it always did when he was reading you.

His fingers traced over your hip, soothing, grounding.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His voice was warm, patient, steady.

You swallowed, nodding. “Yeah.”

Austin hummed, shifting his weight, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the center of your stomach. “Talk to me.”

You breathed, trying to gather your thoughts past the haze of lingering pleasure.

“I want to.” Your voice was soft, hoarse. Shaky, but sure.

Austin’s lips quirked into something softer, something knowing. “But?”

You exhaled, flushing. “I don’t know if I can.”

Austin smiled, dragging his lips up your ribs, your sternum, working his way higher.

“You don’t have to do anything, baby.” His voice was like silk, smooth and firm all at once. “You just have to let me take care of you.”

A slow exhale left your lips, your body instinctively relaxing beneath him.

You trusted him.

You wanted this.

Austin’s hand slid over your thigh, coaxing, encouraging, wordlessly reassuring.

“Just tell me,” he murmured against your jaw, his voice low, patient. “Green or yellow?”

Your stomach flipped.

You knew what he was asking.

You swallowed, exhaled.

“Green.”

A slow, approving hum rumbled from Austin’s chest. His lips brushed against yours—light, teasing.

“Good girl.”

Then—he kissed you.

Not gentle.

Not careful.

Deep. Consuming. Possessive.

Your body arched beneath him, your legs parting, welcoming him in.

Austin’s hand gripped your thigh, hooking it higher over his hip, adjusting you exactly how he wanted.

Your breath hitched as he rocked forward, teasing you with the thick, aching length of him, sliding through your slickness, pressing just enough—just barely—without giving you what you needed.

You whimpered, hips shifting, chasing him.

Austin smirked against your lips, his grip tightening, keeping you still.

“Uh-uh.” His voice was low, commanding. “You wait for me.”

Your pulse pounded, every muscle locking up with restraint.

Austin groaned quietly, adjusting his angle, his teasing measured, deliberate. Then—he pressed in.

A slow, steady push, stretching you, filling you, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt.

You gasped, your fingers clawing at his back, your legs trembling around him.

Austin let out a deep, ragged moan, his forehead pressing to yours, his breath uneven, his muscles tense.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

You weren’t sure if it was for you or for himself.

Maybe both.

His hand gripped your thigh tighter, holding you open for him, anchoring you beneath him.

You felt every inch of him, every slow pulse, every deep throb.

Austin’s lips brushed against your temple, down to your jaw, his breath hot, measured, steady even as his muscles trembled with restraint.

“You still doing okay, baby?” His voice was rough now, strained.

You nodded quickly, desperately. “Yes.”

Austin groaned, gripping your hip before drawing back—just enough—before thrusting forward, pushing deeper, pulling another gasping moan from your lips.

The rhythm was slow at first, controlled, dragging the pleasure out until you were whimpering beneath him, until your nails dug into his shoulders.

Then—he picked up the pace.

Deeper.

Harder.

Austin set the rhythm, and you followed.

Your body clung to him, heat tightening, winding, pressing, overwhelming.

The pleasure was almost too much, too sharp, too good.

Austin felt it.

He let out a low, strangled moan, his lips parting, his brows furrowing as he watched you, felt you, attuned to every tiny shift, every helpless gasp, every flutter around him.

“You close, baby?” His voice was lower now, breathless, edged with pure need.

You barely had it in you to speak. “Yes—”

Austin smirked, tilting your chin up, kissing you through it, swallowing your gasps as he drove into you harder, faster, deeper.

Your body shook beneath him, already sensitive, already teetering on the edge again.

Austin’s hand slid between you, fingers finding your clit, pressing, circling—

Your whole body locked up, the pleasure ripping through you again, sharper, hotter.

“Austin—”

His pace faltered, his grip tightened, his body pressed deeper.

The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, consuming, wrecking, tearing through every last nerve.

But Austin didn’t stop.

He groaned low in his throat, his grip on your hip tightening, holding you in place as he kept moving—deep, steady thrusts that sent aftershocks rolling through you, making you gasp, making your thighs shake.

You whimpered, still pulsing around him, still too sensitive, too wrecked—but Austin wasn’t done.

Not yet.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he gritted out, his forehead pressing against yours. His pace didn’t slow—if anything, it got rougher, more desperate, like he was chasing the high he’d been holding back all night.

Your hands scrambled for purchase, slipping from his shoulders to his biceps, feeling them tense beneath your fingers. Every muscle in his body was tight with restraint, trembling with the effort of keeping himself from losing control completely.

But he was slipping.

You could hear it in his breath, feel it in the way his rhythm stuttered, in the way his hips snapped against yours harder, deeper, a low, wrecked moan spilling from his lips when you clenched around him again.

Your body tried to shy away, the oversensitivity sending sharp, electric jolts through you—but Austin’s hands were there, steady, grounding.

His hand gripped your thigh, pinning you open, keeping you right where he wanted you.

“Stay with me,” he murmured against your skin, voice low, rough, barely more than a growl. “I know, sweetheart. You can take it. Just a little more.”

You whined, barely able to breathe past the overstimulation, your body helpless against the way he was still driving into you, chasing his own release now, his self-control unraveling thread by thread.

He buried his face against your neck, his breath coming hot and heavy, his groans turning into something almost desperate.

“Fuck—fuck—”

His hips slammed into yours once, twice, and then—

Austin broke.

A deep, wrecked moan tore from his throat as he drove himself deep, his body locking up, his grip on you tightening as he finally, finally let go.

You felt the heat of him spill inside you, felt the way his whole body shuddered with the force of it, how his arms trembled as they held you close.

Your body felt boneless, spent, trembling, your breath uneven, your mind lost in the haze.

Austin stayed inside you, anchoring you, grounding you.

His breath was still heavy, his hands slow as they traced over your skin, soothing you, easing you through it.

But even as the last tremors faded, you could still feel the heat lingering, still burning just beneath the surface.

Austin felt it, too.

He smirked, pressing slow kisses along your jaw, down your throat, his fingers still stroking your skin.

“You did so good for me,” he murmured against your collarbone.

Your body shuddered.

Austin exhaled slowly, letting himself rest against you for a moment, his body warm and heavy, his lips pressing soft, lingering kisses against your shoulder. His touch was different now—gentle, reverent, like he was giving you a moment to settle, to breathe.

Carefully, he eased out of you, a quiet groan catching in his throat at the loss of warmth. His hands smoothed down your sides, grounding you, reassuring, as your body gave a soft, involuntary shudder.

You didn’t move. Not yet.

Your limbs felt loose, your mind still floating somewhere between bliss and exhaustion, the aftershocks still buzzing faintly beneath your skin.

Austin pressed a kiss to your temple, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns against your ribs. He wasn’t in a rush, wasn’t pushing. He was just here, watching you, waiting.

Then, his lips brushed over your cheek, his voice low, coaxing.

“Talk to me, baby. How do you feel?”

You inhaled shakily, still catching your breath, still feeling the warmth of his body, the press of his hands. You swallowed, licking your lips, trying to find the words.

“…Good,” you murmured, your voice soft, slightly hoarse. “Really good.”

Austin hummed, his lips curving against your skin. “Yeah?”

You nodded, shifting just slightly, rolling your shoulders, feeling the way your body still trembled, still hummed with lingering heat.

Austin let out a quiet chuckle, his thumb stroking slow circles against your hip. “Think you can take one more?”

Your stomach flipped, your pulse jumping, your body already stirring with something darker, hotter, more desperate.

You hesitated for just a second, just long enough to feel the weight of the moment, the anticipation curling in your stomach. Your body was spent, sensitive, wrecked—but you wanted it. Wanted him.

You exhaled sharply, your voice shaky, but certain.

“Yes.”

Austin’s smirk widened.

“Good girl.”

Austin pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder, his breath still hot against your skin. His hands trailed slowly down your sides, grounding you, even as the heat still burned just beneath the surface.

You exhaled shakily, your body still trembling from the last orgasm.

Austin hummed, satisfied, pressing a kiss to your other shoulder before murmuring against your skin—

“Turn over for me.”

Your stomach flipped.

You were already sensitive—wrecked, overstimulated, every nerve raw and frayed—but the way he said it, low and sure, made your body move before your brain could even catch up.

Slowly, you shifted, rolling onto your stomach, the sheets cool against your heated skin. Your breath shuddered as Austin’s hands immediately found your hips, guiding you, adjusting you exactly how he wanted.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his fingers stroking over the curve of your waist, your lower back, down to your thighs. “Just like that.”

Then, softer—“Colour?”

You swallowed, heat coiling in your stomach, your body still thrumming from everything he’d already given you.

“…Green.”

Austin’s lips quirked, his touch growing bolder. “That’s my girl.”

You buried your face in the pillow, trying to steady your breathing, but then—

His fingers trailed lower.

A slow, teasing drag between your thighs, over the soaked mess of you, still throbbing from the last orgasm.

You jolted. “Austin—”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, soothing, but he didn’t stop. Didn’t pull back. His touch remained slow, steady, deliberate. “You can take it.”

Your body trembled beneath him, already teetering on the edge of too much, but it felt so good. The angle, the way you were stretched beneath him, every nerve ending focused solely on the way his fingers teased, traced, pressed—

Then—he pushed inside.

A slow, deep thrust of his fingers, curling downward, pressing against that devastating spot with unrelenting precision.

Your whole body jerked.

Your mouth fell open on a silent gasp, your thighs twitching as the pressure built too fast, too sharp, too much.

Austin groaned softly, his free hand smoothing over the small of your back, keeping you right where he wanted. “That’s it,” he murmured, stroking deep, coaxing, pushing you higher, higher, higher.

You whimpered, your body writhing, pressing into the mattress, your hips shifting involuntarily, chasing the pressure, the friction, the overwhelming sensation.

Austin’s pace stayed slow, unyielding, making you feel every stroke, every deep curl of his fingers.

A tight, relentless pressure coiled low in your stomach, sharp and insistent, an unfamiliar urgency creeping in, almost too much.

“I—” You gasped, a broken sound slipping from your lips. “I feel like—I need to—”

A flicker of panic shot through your chest. It was too much, too overwhelming, too unfamiliar. The pressure in your stomach coiled tight—

“Yellow.” The word left your lips on a breath, instinctual, unstoppable.

Austin reacted instantly. His fingers slowed, his free hand smoothing over your lower back, grounding you. “Breathe, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice steady, reassuring. “You’re safe. Talk to me.”

You shuddered beneath him, breath shaky. “It’s just—” You swallowed hard. “It feels like—I need to—pee.”

Austin paused—just for a second—but there was no hesitation in the way his fingers smoothed over your skin, keeping you grounded. “I know, baby.” His voice was warm, patient, laced with quiet encouragement. “You don’t have to fight it. Just let go.”

Your body trembled beneath him, caught between tension and release.

“You trust me?” Austin murmured, his fingers stroking over your hip, grounding.

“Yes.”

“Then let me take care of you.”

His hand resumed its slow, coaxing rhythm, gentler this time, guiding you back toward the edge. His voice stayed low, soothing, wrapping around you like silk.

“You’re doing so well for me.” A kiss to the back of your neck. “Just let it happen, sweetheart.”

Your whole body tensed, locked, trapped in the overwhelming crest of it, hovering right on the edge of something devastating.

Austin didn’t let up.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxed, his tone smooth but firm, his fingers pressing deeper, faster, until—

It broke.

The orgasm tore through you, white-hot and all-consuming, pulling a sob from your lips as your body surrendered completely. The release hit so hard your vision blurred, and then—

A rush of liquid warmth spilled from you, drenching his hand, soaking into the sheets beneath you, making you gasp at the sensation.

Austin’s breath hitched.

“Fuck—”

He groaned softly, working you through it, his other hand smoothing up your back, whispering soft praises as you trembled beneath him.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with awe. “So fucking beautiful.”

Tears leaked from your eyes, your body sagged, completely wrecked, completely spent. Your breath came in uneven gasps, your limbs heavy, your skin damp with sweat and pleasure.

Austin held you, soothed you, his voice low, grounding. “You’re okay, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

You barely registered the way he eased his fingers from you, barely noticed the warmth of his hands smoothing over your back, coaxing you down from the high.

Everything felt distant. Warm. Floating.

Austin didn’t move away—not yet. He just held you, breathing slow and steady against your skin, letting you feel the warmth of him. His fingers smoothed through your hair, his lips brushing soft, lingering kisses along your spine, whispering quiet praises.

A deep, shuddering exhale left your lips as you slowly blinked back into the present, still feeling the aftershocks rolling through you.

Austin’s arms wrapped around you, his chest warm against your back, his lips brushing over your shoulder, still holding you, still anchoring you.

And when you finally, finally turned your head to look at him, his expression was pure awe.

“Baby,” he murmured, reaching up to gently brush a tear from your cheek. “That was—”

You swallowed, your throat tight, emotions swelling thick in your chest. “I…” You let out a breathless, dazed laugh. “I think you broke me.”

Austin chuckled softly, nuzzling against your temple. “Never, sweetheart.”

Then, softer—

“You are so fucking perfect.”

Austin stayed close, his body pressed warm and solid against your back, his arms wrapping around you like he had no intention of letting go anytime soon. His lips traced slow, lazy kisses along your shoulder, up to the curve of your neck, his breath still a little uneven, but steadying.

His hands moved over you in slow strokes, smoothing down your arms, your back, your waist—grounding, reassuring. Not because you seemed unsteady, but because he wanted to. Because he needed to.

“You did so fucking good for me, sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and warm, full of something deeper than satisfaction.

Your chest rose and fell in slow, uneven breaths, your limbs still heavy, still tingling with the aftershocks of everything he’d pulled from you. But there was something else now—a deep, settled warmth, a sense of being completely held, completely seen.

Austin shifted, slipping one arm beneath you, the other wrapping tighter around your waist as he turned you in his arms, rolling you onto your side so you were facing him. His blue eyes searched yours, checking, reading, waiting.

“How are you feeling?”

You exhaled a slow breath, your lips parting, your voice barely above a whisper.

“…Floaty.”

Austin smiled, his fingers brushing over your cheek, his touch impossibly gentle now. “Yeah?”

You nodded, sinking further into his warmth, his presence, his care.

Austin studied you for a moment, then pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up, baby.”

A sleepy hum left your lips as he carefully pulled back, shifting off the bed. You barely had time to miss the warmth of him before he was back, gently rolling you onto your back, pressing one more kiss to your stomach before grabbing a warm cloth to clean you up.

His touch was careful, slow, reverent.

And when he was done, he pulled the covers up over you, making sure you were comfortable before slipping back in beside you.

Immediately, you curled into him, your head pressing against his chest, your fingers lightly gripping at his side, as if holding onto the steady, grounding weight of him.

Austin exhaled softly, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you in, pressing another kiss to the top of your head.

“You still floaty?” he asked after a moment, amusement threading through the warmth of his voice.

You let out a small, contented sigh. “Mhm.”

Austin chuckled, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles over your back.

For a while, there was only silence—the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, the feeling of his fingers smoothing over your skin, the warmth of his body keeping you cocooned in a soft, safe haze.

Then, his voice came, low and quiet.

“You know how proud I am of you, right?”

Your stomach fluttered.

Austin’s fingers found your chin, gently tilting your face up until your eyes met his.

“You trusted me,” he murmured, his gaze deep, his thumb brushing slow, thoughtful circles over your jaw. “And you let go. You let me take care of you.”

Your chest tightened—not with nerves, not with uncertainty, but with something softer, warmer, deeper.

“I liked it,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t know it could feel like this.”

Austin’s expression softened into something almost unreadable—something that looked a lot like pure, unfiltered adoration.

His lips brushed against yours, a featherlight, lingering kiss. “I know, baby.”

And then, with quiet certainty—

“We’ll do it again.”

Your stomach flipped, excitement curling low in your belly, but for now, you were content to just be here, wrapped up in him, letting the warmth of his words settle deep into your bones.

Austin shifted, tucking you closer, pressing another kiss to your temple.

“Sleep, sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin, his arms tightening just a little more. “I’ve got you.”

And this time, when your eyes fluttered shut, there wasn’t a single doubt in your mind.

Because you knew—

He did.

Taglist:

@thefallofthedamned @saturnsdaughtr @bellesdreamyprofile @butlerrizz @myradiaz @chocolatetree222

[andy-15-07]

Heyyy , I love your blog❤️! Can you do a fic with Feyd Rautha, where y/n gives birth to their first child

Seraphina

masterlist ! pairing:Feyd Rautha reader

Dune Masterlist

In the dimly lit birthing chamber of House Harkonnen, the air was thick with anticipation as Feyd-Rautha stood by your side. The momentous occasion had arrived, and the echoes of your shared breaths reverberated through the room. The Harkonnen legacy was about to be expanded, and the weight of the future seemed to rest in the hands of the next generation.

As the contractions began, Feyd-Rautha, usually an enigmatic figure of political maneuvering and calculated decisions, displayed a rare vulnerability. His gaze never wavered from you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and anticipation.

The midwife, clad in the rich fabrics of Arrakis, guided the process with a calm authority. "Lady Y/N, the time is near. Brace yourself for the final push."

The room seemed to hold its breath as the culmination of your love and lineage unfolded. Feyd-Rautha, known for his unwavering confidence, now stood at the edge of uncertainty, his hand tightly gripping yours.

With a final, intense push, the cries of a newborn filled the air. The midwife's hands worked swiftly, placing the newborn in your arms. Feyd-Rautha's eyes widened with a mixture of awe and overwhelming emotion as he caught a glimpse of your child.

"Our child," he whispered, his voice filled with a depth that transcended his usual stoicism.

As you cradled the newborn in your arms, a wave of love and protectiveness washed over you. "Our legacy, Feyd-Rautha. She carries the blood of House Harkonnen."

The newborn, wrapped in the regal fabrics of Arrakis, squirmed in your arms, her eyes opening to reveal a gaze that seemed to hold an ancient wisdom. Feyd-Rautha, a formidable presence in the political landscape, now knelt beside you, his eyes locked on the tiny being that symbolized the continuation of House Harkonnen.

"What shall we name her?" Feyd-Rautha pondered, his usually sharp mind momentarily softened by the enormity of the moment.

You exchanged a knowing look, a silent agreement passing between you. "Seraphina," you suggested, a name that carried the essence of grace and strength, a name befitting the union of your love.

"Seraphina," Feyd-Rautha echoed, a rare smile playing on his lips. "A name worthy of our House."

As the newborn Seraphina rested in your arms, Feyd-Rautha by your side, a newfound sense of unity enveloped your family. The once-feuding houses were now intricately connected through the birth of this child, a symbol of love prevailing over the shadows of political intrigue.

In the birthing chamber of House Harkonnen, the cries of a newborn marked not just the beginning of a new life but the dawn of a future where love and legacy intertwined. Feyd-Rautha, the enigmatic figure of power, now stood as a father, embracing the vulnerability and joy that came with the arrival of his firstborn. The legacy of House Harkonnen continued with a new chapter, written in the cries and whispers of the newborn Seraphina.