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agaypanic · 2 months ago

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His Good Girl (Carlisle Cullen X Vampire!Wife!Reader Smut)

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Kinktober Day 3: Praise Kink

Summary: For your one hundredth wedding anniversary, Carlisle takes you to a cabin in the mountains away from your children and the prying eyes of Forks citizens. The days are beautiful, but the nights are far more pleasurable.

A/N: ignore that im posting day 3 on the 23rd…. Im so behind omfg ANYWAYS i know vampires technically cant get hard or probably cum or wtv bc they don’t have bloodflow but this is a kinktober fic so idgaf. i know a thousand years is in twilight soundtrack, but i like the song and think it fits so pretend it/christina perri exists in this universe. Tbh this feels more like a real fic than a kinktober fic (not saying kinktober fics aren’t real fics. I just feel like kinktober stuff really focuses on the sex/kink and i feel like this is more of a fluff that ends in smut)

C/W: oral (fem!receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex (they're vampires so they cant get pregnant or diseases but wrap it before you tap it), praise kink, body worship, rough sex

***

“Carlisle, dear, I can pack my own suitcase.” But you did nothing to stop him from meticulously folding your clothes and putting them in your bag. Instead, you sat on the edge of the bed and watched him work.

Your husband looked up, a smile appearing on his lips. “And yet, you sit and watch me pack it for you.”

“What can I say?” You said with a shrug. “I like watching your skilled hands be put to work.”

“Oh really?” Carlisle seemed to suddenly forget the task he was previously so focused on. He walked over to you, letting the cold hands you loved so much cup your face gently. “Just wait for this weekend. Then you’ll really see how skillful they are.”

You giggle, pulling at his waist and leaning up to kiss him. “I can’t wait.”

It wasn’t long before you were finished loading up the car and ready to leave. Carlisle had to practically drag you away when your goodbyes with the kids went on a little too long. But you couldn’t help it. Not only did you love your children dearly, but you needed to give them all (mainly Emmett and Edward) to behave while you and Carlisle were gone. Although they were tremendously older than their young adult bodies, they sometimes acted just as recklessly as teenagers.

The drive to the cabin was long and peaceful. Carlisle let you handle the music, and although he kept his eyes on the road, he smiled at the sight of you passionately singing along with every song out of the corner of his eyes.

You arrived in the afternoon, and your husband insisted on carrying your bags inside for you, allowing you to wander around the cabin you came to for special occasions. It followed a less modern aesthetic, mainly because getting a good internet connection so far from civilization was a little difficult. It reminded you of when you were first married to Carlisle.

“Why don’t you pick out a record?” Carlisle said from the bedroom, raising his voice a little so you could hear him down the hall, despite your enhanced hearing.

You walked over to the small shelf that was filled to the brim with different genres and eras of music. You opted for something more modern, so you pulled out a Christina Perri vinyl and put it on the player.

The first track was one that you knew all too well, and it seemed Carlisle remembered it just as well when it hit his ears. Deciding that unpacking could wait, he left the bedroom and approached you. When he got close enough to grab you, he started leading you in a slow dance around the living room. And when Christina sang about loving someone for a thousand years, Carlisle kissed you deeply before making a comment about how he couldn’t wait for the thousand-year mark.

***

When your anniversary came the next day, you and Carlisle didn’t do much. Besides being slightly more affectionate than usual and exchanging presents, it seemed like a normal day for you two. But you cherished it like any other day you spent with your husband.

The only time Carlisle strayed from you today was to go outside and hunt for dinner. He came back in record time with two wine glasses filled with red liquid and a few smudges around his mouth that he let you kiss off. Ushering you to the couch in front of the lit fireplace, he handed you a glass and used his now free hand to hold you close to him.

“To you, my dear.” Carlisle toasted, holding his glass up to you.

“And to you, darling.” You added, clinking his cup with your own. “To a hundred years.”

“And a hundred more.”

Hours had passed without you knowing. You were too wrapped up in Carlisle’s presence, the way he stroked your arm while he listened to you talk about whatever came to your mind.

Eventually, your glasses were empty, and Carlisle set them on the small table in front of you before cuddling you again. You leaned into his touch, breathing his scent in. “I love your hands.” You muttered against his neck. The hands in question were either holding yours or gently massaging you.

“Oh, yeah?” He smiled, and you nodded. “You wanna see what else they can do?”

It felt like a switch had flipped, and suddenly, you were straddling your husband and kissing him like you’d been starved for a hundred years. He kissed back with the same sentiment, hands roaming and groping your body.

Carlisle broke away the slightest bit to speak. “As much as I’d love to take you right here, why don’t we move to the bedroom?” Without waiting for a response, he stood up, carrying you down the hall like it was nothing. You clung to him, kissing and lightly nipping at his neck.

When he reached the bedroom, Carlisle softly set you on the bed and started kissing you again. He towered over you, caging you in with his limbs.

But kissing, although very enjoyable, wasn’t enough for him. His hands started to roam again, and he began to play with the hem of your shirt. “May I?” He asked against your lips, and you nodded furiously. Carlisle peeled the shirt off of your body, and your bra was off soon after.

Without warning, he broke away from you. You were about to protest when his mouth latched onto your nipple, flicking it with his tongue. You moaned at the sensation, running a hand through his once pristine hair. He made sure to give the same treatment to the other.

“So beautiful.” He muttered, squeezing your tits with his hands and running his cold thumbs over your now stiff nipples. You mewled and arched your back. God, the things this man did to you. “So perfect.”

“Carlisle.” You whined. You couldn’t take anymore waiting, you needed him now. In desperation, you started moving your hips to try and rut against his thigh. He allowed it, giving attention to your breasts a little while longer while you used him to ease your need. But his thigh wasn’t enough. “Carlisle, come on.”

He looked up at you with a caring but mischievous look. “What’s the magic word?”

“Carlisle!”

“Nope.” The man smirked, slowly trailing kisses down your stomach and stopping at the waistband of your pants. “Come on, dear. Where are your manners?”

“Please!” You cried out.

Carlisle swiftly started to unbutton your pants, tugging them down your legs. “There’s my good girl.” The little nickname just made you even wetter. Carlisle took off your panties, leaving you entirely bare for him. He stared down at you, taking in the image. He sighed, seemingly lost in thought. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”

Ready to ravage you, Carlisle started to crawl on the bed towards you. But before he could get to the place he wanted most, you put your foot on his chest to stop him. A hand shot up to caress your ankle, and Carlisle started to worry that he was moving too fast for you without realizing it.

“Maybe you should take your clothes off too?” You suggested, giggling at his sigh of relief. Carlisle dropped your foot and stood up again, stripping in front of you. He did so as fast as possible without using superspeed, knowing you were desperate for him but would still enjoy the show.

“Better?”

“Better.”

You sat up, his stiff cock now at your eyeline. You reached out, wanting to grasp it, suck it, whatever he would let you do.

But Carlisle grabbed your wrist. “Now, what do you think you’re doing?” He asked, tone light enough to indicate that he wasn’t upset or serious.

“I want you to enjoy yourself.” You answer with a shrug. “It’s your anniversary too, you know.”

“You want me to enjoy myself?” He asked, gently pushing you until you were lying on your back. You nodded. “Then be a good girl and spread your legs.”

A tingle went down your spine at the command, and you immediately did as told. Carlisle grasped your ankles to keep your legs separated. He stared at your pussy, mouth watering at the thought of tasting you. He inched closer to you, hands running up your legs.

He didn’t waste another second. Carlisle pushed at your thighs to bring them to your chest and dove into your pussy, licking a broad strip through your slit before latching onto your clit. He groaned at the taste of you, sending chilling vibrations through your body. One of his hands splayed out at the back of your knees to keep your legs up, and he used his now free hand to prod at your entrance.

“You’re so wet, honey.” He cooed as he slipped a finger in, soon adding another. Carlisle began fucking you slowly, hooking his fingers on your g-spot and flicking at your clit with his tongue.

“More.” You moaned, squeezing his fingers. “Want your cock, Carlisle.”

Your husband tsked, taking his mouth off of you but continuing his ministrations. “Not til you come on my fingers, Y/n. You know the rules. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You whined, wanting nothing more than to be stretched and filled to the brim by your husband’s cock. But it warmed your cold heart that he was still cautious with you.

“Then make me come.” You begged.

Carlisle took it as a personal challenge to make you finish as quickly as possible. He usually liked to take his time with you, but you were desperate. So Carlisle quickened his pace, added a third finger, flicked and sucked at your clit, and soon enough you were falling apart. You stiffened and let out a choked moan as Carlisle helped you ride out your high.

While catching your breath, Carlisle withdrew his fingers from you and cleaned your juices off with his tongue. The sound that came from him was almost animalistic. He looked at you as if you were his prey. “You’re so delicious.” He said, licking the remnants of your cum off of his hand. The way he was looking down on you made you even wetter.

Usually, Carlisle liked to start nice and slow, giving you time to adjust to his size before he began ramming into you. But tonight, he couldn’t control himself. He grabbed himself, swiping the tip of his penis through your slick folds to collect more of your juices before prodding your entrance and bottoming out in one swift motion.

Then he started fucking you.

You were beyond grateful that you were staying in a cabin in the middle of the mountains because if someone were around, they would’ve thought you were being murdered. The headboard banged against the wall with the force Carlisle was using to fuck you. He held onto the backs of your knees, keeping your legs pinned to your chest and giving you shocks of pleasure with every hard thrust.

It was all too much, but in the best way. Carlisle fucking you roughly at an angle that you knew would make it difficult to walk for a while, despite you usually being able to recover from rough sex quickly. With the way Carlisle was acting right now, his panting and almost growling sounds, and his nails digging into your skin, you knew he wouldn’t be satisfied after one round.

“So good.” Carlisle groaned, leaning down to kiss at your neck. You pulled at Carlisle’s hair to try and ground yourself, but you were too far gone with the overwhelming pleasure. “Are you gonna come?”

“Uh-huh.” It came out as a high-pitched squeal, and Carlisle smiled.

“You can do it, honey.” While speaking, he snaked a hand down to rub at your clit, pace as rough and furious as his thrusts. “Want you to come. Be a good girl for me; go ahead.”

It was like Carlisle had some kind of control over your body. As soon as the words left his mouth, you found your release. It was one of the most intense orgasms you had ever had. You were a bit surprised that you didn’t accidentally pull out Carlisle’s hair from how hard you were gripping the strands.

Carlisle continued fucking you at his rough pace, making you shake and cry out in pleasure. He didn’t stop, seemingly very focused on now reaching his own peak. The way your cunt gripped his cock certainly helped, and not long after you, he was shooting ropes of cum inside you, keeping up his thrusts to fuck it into you.

When he came down from his high, his movements slowed to a stop. He delicately moved your legs off your chest to lay on the bed, massaging any possible sore spots he may have given you.

“Was I too rough?” He asked, seemingly in a clearer headspace now.

You shook your head, reaching up to caress his face. “I liked it.” Carlisle sighed in relief, leaning down to kiss you. “Maybe we can do it again? Like, now?”

He laughed at your eagerness. “How about in five minutes?” He wrapped you up in his arms before flipping you over so you were lying on his chest. His cock was still hard inside you, filling you nicely. “I want to lay with my wife for a while.”

“I won’t argue with that.” You said, snuggling into Carlisle’s bare chest. “Happy anniversary, Carlisle.”

“Happy anniversary, Y/n.”

***

Twilight Taglist: @wedfan2 @natashamaximoff-69 @pink-hufflepuff

#agaypanic #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle cullen x reader smut #twilight #twilight x reader #praise k!nk #roughfuck #body worship

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rachelkaser · 4 months ago

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Masonry Monday: The Case of the Perjured Parrot

A wealthy investor is murdered while at his fishing getaway, with the only apparent witness being his parrot, who repeats the same name over and over. Taking this to be a repetition of his final words, the sheriff arrests Ellen, the dead man's secret mistress, but Perry Mason has his suspicions about the bird's credibility.

Who's Who

Perry Mason's client: Ellen Monteith, a librarian recently married to a man who, to her shock, already has a wife

The victim: Charles Sabin, a wealthy man who's harsh on everyone except his mistress and his talkative parrot

Suspects: Stephanie Sabin, the victim's legitimate wife, who's left to clean up following his death Helen Watkins, the victim's step-daughter, who may or may not have committed a serious crime Richard Waid, the long-suffering secretary, who shifts loyalties to the missus after the murder Fred Bascomb, the cabin's owner, who came across the body and the chattering parrot Casanova, the Sabin family parrot, who apparently witnesses his final moments and repeats his last words over and over

The Setup

Charles Sabin returns home from a trip and completely blows off his wife Stephanie in favor of fawning over his parrot, Casanova (who has been "a very busy bird," according to the man himself). He retrieves an envelope with his wife's name on its from a drawer in his desk. He calls in his secretary, Richard Waid, just to snarl at him for not taking proper care of Casanova. He leaves instructions for Waid to procure some mineral rights, then tells Stephanie and her daughter Helen Watkins that he's decided to drive to his fishing cabin a day early. The ladies aren't packed, and Helen snarls right back at Sabin.

Sabin accuses her of being a thief, and Stephanie refuses to go with him if he's going to attack Helen. Sometime later, a fancy man in a bolo tie drives up to Bascomb Lodge and Cottages in Logan City. He approaches a cabin where a convertible is parked and hears a parrot squawk through the window. Looking through the window, he sees Sabin's body on the ground, with Casanova's cage open and shavings all over the floor. The parrot is walking around the body, repeating, "Helen, give me that gun! Don't shoot!"

In the offices of Perry Mason, Della and Perry are visited by Stephanie Sabin and Helen Watkins. Stephanie tells Perry -- who'd been handling some of Sabin's business affairs -- that a Mr. Bascomb found her husband's body that morning at his fishing cabin. Helen blurts out that she'll be suspected due to Casanova's repeated words. Perry asks when the murder was committed, and Stephanie says they suspect the previous Tuesday. Sabin left for the cabin on Saturday, and Stephanie took Helen to her school, Hollymount, the next day. Stephanie herself stayed in a hotel that same night as she planned to divorce Sabin. Helen didn't stay in school but followed her to the hotel. There's no record of her at the hotel until Wednesday.

Enter Perry Mason, Attorney at Law

Perry and Della drive out to Logan City to meet with Sheriff Barnes, introducing himself as the late Sabin's lawyer on instruction from the widow. The Sheriff introduces Edward Langley, a criminology professor at Logan City's college, who's helping out with the investigation. Perry enters the cabin, where Casanova is chattering away in the cage, repeating the line about Helen. The gun was laying near the body with no fingerprints. The Sheriff and Langley estimate, based on the fish he'd caught and the fact they weren't cleaned, that he was killed Tuesday morning after eating lunch.

They also found a woman's slip and a pair of stockings, which Mrs. Sabin denies belonging to her or to Helen. Perry picks up a book on the side and notes it's from the Logan City Library. There's a knock, and Waid arrives to retrieve Casanova and Sabin's belongings. Langley asks where Waid was on Tuesday -- he was in Denver dealing with the mineral rights. Waid says Sabin called from a payphone as the line was dead, which Langley confirms by picking up the phone. Perry takes his leave and meets Della, who's feeding wildlife outside.

While looking at birds with her, Perry notes a wire on the phone lines -- someone's tapped Sabin's phone. They follow the wire into the foliage, where it leads to a empty, ramshackle cabin. Cut to the Logan City Library, where Ellen Monteith is reading about the murder in the papers. Perry and Della pull up, and Perry greets Ellen, asking her about the book he found in Sabin's cabin. Ellen's obviously distressed, and asks to speak with Perry alone. She confirms she took the book and asks to meet him in the park.

In the park, Ellen tells Perry her story of moving out West and suddenly finding love in the form of "George Walman," a.k.a. Charles Sabin. They met at the library, and Ellen describes him as the kindest person she knew. They married two weeks previously in a quiet ceremony in Las Vegas. Ellen left behind the slip, stockings, and gun, which she owned for protection while closing the library at night. Sabin left on Saturday morning, and she never saw or heard from him again. Della arrives and says Paul is checking on any calls made from Sabin's cabin. Ellen asks if she'll be suspected, and Perry says, "Yes."

The Murder

Prosecutor Sprague brings Ellen Monteith and Fred Bascomb, the gentleman with the bolo tie, into this office and asks Ellen if she's ever seen Bascomb before. She says she never has. After she's escorted out, Bascomb confirms that he saw her driving up to Sabin's cabin on the morning of the murder. Later, Paul enters Perry's office with info: Sabin's will splits the estate between Stephanie and the heretofore-unmentioned brother Arthur Sabin. Also, Helen didn't join her mother at the Windsor Hotel on Sunday. She had run away from school and was waitressing in Logan City when her mother found her on Tuesday. Perry suspected as much.

Perry speaks with Stephanie, who thinks Casanova must have been saying, "Ellen." He asks her about Arthur Sabin, and Stephanie says she's never met him. Later, Perry meets with one Rufus Bolding, who says that Sabin called him about forged checks he'd discovered. Sabin sent Bolding, a handwriting expert, the checks and a handwriting sample. Bolding says Sabin suspected Helen, but she's not the forger, which he informed Sabin of on Monday. Sabin said he'd pass along other samples, but Bolding never received them.

Case under review; please return at a later date

#perry mason #masonry monday #della street #paramount plus #paul drake #s02e11 #the case of the perjured parrot #raymond burr

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