Writing Advice

thinking about… rafe putting a remote control vibrator in your pussy then forcing you to go shopping with him.

CW: 18+ only! use of a vibe in public, rafe is cocky, strong language, some making out in a dressing room.

note: i wrote this at 11:40pm, so don’t judge if it sucks just randomly thought of this lil concept and yeah, this came to be!

daydreams

“c’mon baby, it’ll be fun…”

those were the words rafe used to convince you to let him shove a small silicone vibrator up your pussy before the two of you went out to shop for the day.

at first you’d thought, ‘sure why not, it couldn’t be too bad.’

but now you’re eating your words as you try and keep your composure in front of the saleswoman who’s going through an abundance of dresses with you.

“i think this one matches your skin complexion, the color would just pop against your skin! it’s also got this sexy little slit the runs up mid-thigh—”

her words are cut short when you gasp loudly, squeezing your thighs together as you grip the dress rack.

the woman gives you a concerned look, asking if you’re okay. you nod your head before you slowly drag your gaze up from the floor, finding rafe sitting on a small couch pushed against a wall, his tongue pressed firmly against his cheek as he smirks back at you, clearly amused by the entire situation.

“i— oh, god.. i agree with you c-completely.” you stutter out, legs wobbling as another orgasm washes through you. your skin is on fire, a flush creeping up your chest and to your face. “i’ll go try this one on, thank you!”

you quickly grab the dress, stumbling toward the dressing room and leaving the poor saleswoman to stand confused by the rack of dresses.

once inside the safety of the dressing room, you drop onto the bench, pulling your skirt up to the tops of your thighs, sliding your thong to the side and going to remove the damned toy rafe put there.

you’re just about to pull it out when the vibration frequency is upped, a knock on your dressing room door making you jump. you know it’s rafe, the fucker probably wants to come in and tease you, probably tell you you’re not allowed to remove the toy, well fuck him.

you stand off the bench, letting your skirt fall back down before unlocking the door and swinging it open, finding a very amused rafe standing on the other side. he pushes you back into the room, stepping into the small space, shutting and locking the door before his tall frame towers you, backing you up against the mirror.

“and just what do you think you’re doing, huh?” he asks, his voice low and demanding, sending a shiver down your spine.

you shove at his chest, “i’m taking this stupid thing out. i’ve not been able to concentrate in one fucking store, rafe. not one! you’re.. god you’re so infuriating sometimes.”

rafe laughs, the sound deep and rich, sending butterflies erupting in your stomach. he reaches into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his phone and stopping the vibrator. you sigh in relief at the loss of stimulation.

he grips the back of your neck, turning your head up so you’re forced to look him in the eyes. his head dips down, nose brushing against yours as he kisses the corners of your lips.

“you’re not taking it out, sweetheart. you’re gonna be a good girl, and keep that shit in the entire time we’re out,” he pauses, turning your head to the side so your neck is exposed to him. he leaves gentle, wet kisses along the side of your neck, his teeth nipping the front of your throat before he pulls back. “if you’re good, you’ll be rewarded for it when we get home, i promise.”

you’re panting, desperate to get this toy out of you but also desperate to be good for rafe, to be rewarded for listening and doing as you’re told. your lips part, a small squeal escaping you when rafe tightens his hold on the back of your neck, craning your head back and pressing his lips firmly against yours. his kiss is hard and possessive, hot and needy.

his tongue slips past the seam of your lips, tangling with yours as he presses the front of his body firmly against yours. you grip his hips, pressing him harder into you and moaning against his lips when you feel the outline of his hard cock pressing against your stomach. rafe deepens the kiss, one hand still firmly gripping the nape of your neck while the other makes purchase on your hip, squeezing tightly as he rubs himself against you.

small whimpers and whines escape you, rafe swallowing every single one of them as he continues to claim your mouth— licking, sucking, biting, claiming you.

he finally breaks away from you, breathing as heavily as you while his forehead rests against yours. his blue eyes search your face, a small smile tilting the corners of his lips before he leans in to press one more soft and gentle kiss to your lips.

finally releasing you, he steps back, adjusts himself then looks at the dress you have hanging on the hook in the dressing room. “i love that one, lets go pay for it and move on to the next store, i’m ready to get you home now.”

tagging some mooties: @quinnsbabygirl @yourlocalangeldoll @nemesyaaa @rafesheaven @rafesthroatbaby @maybejj @memoirofasparklemuff1n @rafesbabygirlx @rafescvntyclubgf @hauntedfawnn @dementedkittenribbon

Sorry I woke you up at 8am sucking on your clit, Princess. Would you like me to stop? 🥺

Car sexy time. 😍😍

Tension and Temptation - E.M.

GIF by vigilanteshit

Eddie Munson x Reader Warnings: 18+ MDNI Summary: A midnight ride in Eddie Munson's van can't go wrong, right ? PREVIOUS PART

Part three

The van feels like it’s shrinking, the world reduced to the frantic pulse of your bodies and the heat swallowing you whole. Eddie’s hands are relentless now, one gripping your hip with bruising force, guiding your movements as you grind against him, the other tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to send a sharp thrill down your spine. Your shirt’s long gone, discarded somewhere in the dark, and his lips are on your skin, hot and greedy, trailing across your chest, finding every spot that makes you tremble. Each kiss is a spark, each scrape of his teeth a blaze, and you’re burning up, every nerve alight.

You’re both beyond finesse now—clumsy with need, desperate for more. Your fingers claw at his jeans, shoving them down just enough, and the feel of him, bare and hard against you, steals your breath. He curses under his breath, a low, broken sound that makes your core tighten, and his hands are on your waistband, tugging with the same urgency. Denim and cotton hit the back of the van as well, and there’s nothing left between you but skin and want, the air thick with the sound of your ragged breaths and the creak of the seat beneath you.

"Eddie," you gasp, and it’s a plea this time, raw and unfiltered. His eyes meet yours, wild and dark, and for a split second, it’s just you and him, the rest of the world a distant memory. Then he’s kissing you again, deep and filthy, tongue claiming you as his hands pull you closer, aligning you just right. The first real press of him against you—hot, slick, overwhelming—makes you both moan, the sound mingling in the charged air. It’s almost too much, the stretch and heat, but you chase it, rolling your hips to take him deeper, and he’s right there with you, meeting every move with a thrust that’s all instinct, no restraint.

His mouth finds your shoulder, biting down as he moves, and the sting only amps you higher, your nails raking down his back, leaving marks he’ll feel tomorrow. The rhythm’s chaotic, desperate, the van rocking with it, windows fogged to the point of blindness. You can feel the coil tightening inside you, white-hot and ready to snap, and Eddie’s not far behind—his grip’s faltering, his breaths coming in sharp, uneven pants against your neck. "Fuck, you’re—" he starts, but the words dissolve into another groan as you clench around him, pulling him under. It’s a race now, no holding back, just the slick slide of bodies and the overwhelming need to get there together. His hand slips between you, fingers finding exactly where you need them, circling with a precision that makes you see stars. You’re teetering, right on the edge, and when he growls your name—low, wrecked—it’s over. The world shatters, pleasure crashing through you like a tidal wave, and he’s not far behind, his hips stuttering as he follows, both of you lost in the white-hot blur of release.

You collapse against him, gasping, sweaty, tangled, his arms wrapping around you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. Your chest heaves against Eddie’s, skin slick with sweat, hearts pounding like they’re trying to outrace each other. The air’s heavy, thick with the raw scent of you both, and the van feels impossibly small, every sensation amplified—the lingering heat where you’re still connected, the faint tremor in his arms as he holds you close. His breath fans your neck, uneven, and you feel the ghost of a kiss there, soft but deliberate, like he’s not ready to let go of the intensity just yet. You shift slightly, still straddling him, and the movement pulls a low hiss from him, his hands tightening on your hips like a reflex. “Fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” he mutters, voice hoarse, but there’s a spark in his eyes—half wrecked, half hungry, like he’s already thinking about round two.

You lean in, lips brushing his ear, and murmur, “Good way to go, though, right?” The tease earns you a chuckle, rough and deep, vibrating through you both, but it’s cut short when you rock your hips, just a little, testing.

His reaction’s instant—head tipping back, a groan ripping from his throat, raw and unfiltered. “You’re evil,” he says, but his hands are already moving, sliding up your sides, thumbs grazing the sensitive skin just under your ribs, reigniting that fire in your core. You’re both sensitive, still buzzing from the high, but the ache’s back, sharper now, fueled by the way he’s looking at you—like you’re a drug he’s nowhere near done with.

You kiss him, slow this time, savoring the taste of him, the faint salt of sweat and the edge of something primal. It’s less frantic now but deeper, tongues tangling like you’re mapping each other all over again. His fingers dig into your back, pulling you flush against him, and the renewed contact sends a jolt through you, a reminder of how close you still are. You move again, deliberate, and the friction’s enough to make you both gasp, the sensitivity amplifying every touch to a razor’s edge.

“More?” he asks, voice low, almost daring, but you feel the tension in him, the way he’s holding himself back, waiting for you to set the pace. You nod, biting your lip, and that’s all it takes. He flips you, somehow managing it in the cramped space, your back hitting the passenger seat as he looms over you, one hand braced against the fogged-up window, leaving a smudged print. The shift changes everything—his weight, the angle, the way he’s looking down at you, all predatory focus and unguarded want.

He moves first, slow but deep, and the stretch reignites that white-hot coil in your gut, making you arch into him. Your nails find his arms, dragging down, and he hisses, pace picking up, each thrust more deliberate, hitting exactly where you need. It’s overwhelming, the way he fills you, the way his eyes never leave yours, like he’s drinking in every reaction. You hook a leg around his waist, pulling him closer, and the new angle makes you both curse under your breath, the pleasure spiking sharp and relentless.

The van rocks with the intensity, every thrust pushing you closer to oblivion, seats creaking, the air so thick it’s hard to think. His hand finds yours, fingers lacing tight, grounding you as the rhythm turns brutal, chasing that edge again. Your leg’s still hooked around him, pulling him deeper, and the angle’s brutal—every movement hitting just right, sending shocks of pleasure that blur your vision. His eyes are locked on yours, dark and blazing, catching every gasp, every shudder, like he’s memorizing the way you fall apart.

You’re there, teetering, and when his free hand slips between you, fingers circling with devastating precision, it’s over. The world splinters—pleasure crashes through you, sharp and consuming, your body arching as you cry out, nails biting into his skin. Eddie follows a heartbeat later, a broken groan tearing from him as he buries himself deep, shuddering through his release, his forehead dropping to yours. For a moment, it’s just panting breaths, trembling limbs, and the thud of your hearts, synced in the haze.

He doesn’t pull away immediately, staying close, lips brushing your temple, soft and grounding. The air’s still thick, windows fogged to hell, but the urgency’s melted into something softer. “You okay?” he murmurs, voice rough but warm, his thumb stroking lazy circles on your wrist where he’s still holding your hand. You nod, catching your breath, and he shifts, careful now, easing off you but not letting go entirely. The seat’s a mess, but he doesn’t care, pulling you against him, your back to his chest, his arms wrapping around you like a shield.

“Hold on,” he says, and you hear him rummaging behind the seat, fishing out a worn flannel from the chaos of the van’s floor. He drapes it over you, tucking it around your shoulders, the fabric soft and smelling faintly of him—leather, smoke, something distinctly Eddie. His hands are gentle, smoothing your hair back, checking you over without making it obvious, but you catch the worry in his eyes, the need to make sure you’re good. “Better?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, lingering there.

You hum, leaning into him, the warmth of his body chasing off the chill creeping in. He’s still catching his breath too, but he’s focused on you—grabbing a half-empty water bottle from the dash, offering it with a crooked smile. “Hydrate, champ,” he teases, but his voice is soft, and when you take a sip, he’s watching like it’s his job to make sure you’re taken care of. His fingers trace idle patterns on your arm, grounding you, and when you shiver, he pulls you closer, chin resting on your head.

“Wasn’t too much, was it?” he asks quietly, and there’s a vulnerability there, like he’s double-checking, needing to hear it from you. You shake your head, turning just enough to kiss his jaw, feeling him relax at the gesture. “Good,” he breathes, and he’s back to holding you, tight but careful, like you’re something precious. The van’s quiet now, just your breathing and the faint hum of the world outside, but in here, it’s just you and Eddie, wrapped in each other, the afterglow and his care stitching you back together.

Thigh Riding

Summary: Wally in his little shorts just does something to you. Leading to you drooling over his thighs. You ask to ride his thigh and he can't deny you especially when you ask so nicely.

Author Note: This gif inspired this entire thing. His slutty little shorts are everything.

NSFW. 18+

Wally Clark knew what he was doing when he said you should have a pool day. You’d found Rhonda and Charlie lounging on the bleachers and Wally was floating around on an inner tube. You walked to the edge of the pool sitting and letting your feet hang in the water. You were so glad you had found some cute sunglasses in the lost and found that hid your gaze.

Your eyes hadn’t left Wally’s thick thighs in his slutty little gym shorts. He looked absolutely delectable. Your mind couldn’t help but wander how nice it would feel to ride them. The thought alone had you wet. Had you somehow gotten hornier in death? Or was it just the himbo jock that brought it out in you?

Wally looked over at you with a smile. “You coming in or are you gonna be boring like those two?” He motioned to Rhonda and Charlie earning a middle finger from Rhonda. You laughed at their interaction and stood up shimmying out of your skirt. Your band tee hitting the floor shortly after.

Wally almost swallowed his tongue at the sight of you in your little black lacy bra and panties. His mouth watered at your plush thighs and his cock twitched at your breast spilling slightly over the top of your bra. He didn’t know what he did in life to deserve this but damn he was happy about it.

You walked down the steps into the pool goosebumps erupting onto your skin. You pulled the claw clip from your hair letting your curls free. You slowly made your way to Wally the pool getting deep enough that you had to tiptoe to him. You rested your hands on his inner tube and let your legs float to the surface behind you. You rested your chin next to Wally’s arm relaxing into the water.

“Where’d you get those shades?” Wally questioned stealing them from your face to examine them. “The lost and found. Where else?” You giggle stealing them back. He hops out of his floaty and into the water offering it to you. You decline so he sets it on the side of the pool. You both just float there for a moment looking at each other until Rhonda clears her throat. You look over at her as she says “Charlie and I are gonna go hang out with Yuri. You guys gonna stay here?” She glances between the two of you and gathers her stuff. “Yea, I’m gonna swim for a bit.” You nod bobbing in the water. Wally nods saying “I’m gonna hang with y/n here.” Rhonda and Charlie nod shooting you goodbye waves as they leave you and Wally.

Wally clears his throat awkwardly and mumbles “I like your suit.” A smirk graces his handsome face as he motions to you. You giggle at him. “I’m sure you do.” You tease wiggling your eyebrows at him. His cheeks heat but he doesn’t look away from you. “Wally are you checking me out?” You whisper fluttering your lashes at him. He floats closer now a few inches from you. “Of course I’m checking you out. Look at you. You are every guys wet dream.” His voice raspier than normal.

A pout graces your lips as you look at him. “Wally?” You ask softly. He lets out a mhm eyes locked on your lips. “Do you wanna go find somewhere a little more cozy?” Your voice lowers seductively. His eyes widen, pupils blown and darker somehow. “Yes, absolutely.” He tries not to sound too giddy but you find it adorable.

You both climb out of the pool. Wally close behind you. He wraps a towel around your shoulders and helps gather your clothes. He grabs your shoes and follows behind you as you tug his hand leading him through the school. You guide him to the theater and down into the under stage area. Once the trap door closes you drop the towel thankful that for once the reset comes in handy. You take your things from Wally and push him down on the couch. You toss your clothes down and move to straddle his hips. His hands immediately settle on your hips as you rest your forehead against his.

“Wally? Can I try something?” You ask softly wetting your lips. Wally lets out a husky laugh before saying “Baby you can do whatever you want to me. You could smack me and I’d thank you.” His hands trace the waistband of your panties a smirk on his face as he lifts his hips pressing his hard cock against you. A small gasp leaves your lips at the pressure of him against you. “I want to ride your thigh. Been thinking about it since the first time I saw you in these shorts.” You whine as you capture his lips in a heated kiss.

You slowly slide off his lap, lips still attached to his. Your lips part as you get on your knees in between his legs. You lean down trailing your lips up his inner thigh. You nip and bite marking up his meaty thighs. He lets out a groan as you run your tongue up his thigh. "I'm getting carried away but fuck you are pretty." You say with a breathy chuckle. He gives you a lazy smirk. "You won't hear me complaining pretty girl" he says as his hand grips his cock through his shorts.

You stand removing your panties before straddling his thigh. His hands grip your hips giving them a reassuring squeeze. You rock your hips gently letting out a whimper as you move. Wally's eyes are locked on your pussy as your wetness covers the top of his thigh. He flexes his thigh making you moan at the friction it applies to your clit. His cock jumps at the cry out chest heaving. "Can I take this off of you?" he asks as his hands grip the cup of your bra. You nod as you rock back and forth. His hands reach around undoing your bra and letting it slide off your body tossing it aside. He leans forward taking your nipple into his mouth flicking it with his tongue and taking it between his teeth. You let out a hiss at the pain mixed with pleasure.

"Baby, I need to be inside of you. Please. I need to feel you wrapped around me." Wally begs you his cock feeling painfully hard in his shorts. You slowly slide off his thigh. "I wanna ride you." you say sliding your hand into the waistband of his shorts pulling them off. "Yeah whatever you want pretty girl." he pants as his cock smacks his stomach. You guide him to lay on the couch and straddle his hips. You grab his cock smirking at the groan that leaves his mouth. You slowly slide his tip up and down your pussy until you get impatient and sink slowly on to him. You whine as he grunts out "Fuck baby you feel so good."

You grind your hips down on him, your hands resting on his chest. You lift yourself taking him almost all the way out before slamming yourself back down. The air leaving your lungs at how deep he feels. You sit there loving how full you feel until he whimpers "You have to move, please." You smile down at him "You sound really pretty begging for me Wally." You fuck yourself on him, scratching his abdomen as you do. Wally notices your slowing and grabs your hips holding them still. "You gonna let me take over now?" he lifts his hips causing you to cry out. "Yes, please fuck me Wally." He thrusts his hips up into you at a bruising pace, telling you how pretty you are and how good you feel.

You mumble out incoherent sentences brain short-circuiting. He reaches down rubbing your clit as he fucks you harder somehow. You are fall forward onto his chest not being able to hold yourself up any longer. He takes the new position to his advantage fucking up into you and holding you tightly to him. "Wally, fuck it's to much. I can't." You whine into his ear. "You can take it pretty girl just let go for me. I've got you." His raspy voice brings you closer to the edge. "Gonna let me fill you up? Gonna let me ruin you Baby?" He pants in your ear as you whimper out a yes. His speed picks up pushing you over the edge screaming "WALLY." as you cum around him. He thrust a few more times hips stuttering as he fills you full of him.

You lay there together catching your breath his cock softening inside of you. He grabs his letterman from the floor draping it over your back, running his hand soothingly over your hair. He places gentle kisses over any skin he can reach allowing you to recover. He glances down at you and sees you drooling on his chest asleep his cock still nestled in you. He looks down at you in awe and settles back falling asleep dreaming of you.

Homecoming? Guess not.

Summary: You are Wally's best friend and assumed you'd be his date to the dance like you've been to every event. That is until he says yes to the cheerleader right in front of you and you are confronted with feelings you didn't know you had.

Disclaimer--- This is mainly angst and fluff with potential for more later. I did not proof read this. Sorry... If you like it let me know and I might post a part 2.

Wally Clark was your best friend. You couldn’t really place when he became your best friend but it was early in life. Maybe 1st grade? Or kindergarten even? He spent more time at your house then anywhere else. He lived just across the street from you. Your mom made him a plate every night for dinner. Your dad treated him like a son. You never saw him as a brother though more like your other half. When he wasn’t around everything felt slow and sluggish, lackluster even. The older you got the more of a magnetic pull he had on you. He felt the same pull even though he wouldn’t admit it out loud. You were his soft spot, the thing that could bring him to his knees but didn’t everyone feel that way about their best friend?

Everything fell apart for you the day the hottest girl at school approached your table in the cafeteria. She wore her cheerleading uniform and she rested her hand on his shoulder not even glancing in your direction. “Wally, I was wondering if you’d be my date for the homecoming dance on Saturday?” She batted her lashes. As soon as the words formed on her lips your stomach sank and your hands began to shake. You quickly tucked them under your legs looking anywhere but them. Wally glanced in your direction hurt by your indifferent look mumbling a “Sure, I’ll pick you up at 7.”

You could have died right there. It wasn’t the first time a girl had flirted with Wally but it was the first time that he didn’t shut them down. He hadn’t gone on a single date all of high school, always gently declining or mentioning that the two of you had plans already. This felt heartbreaking. Why had you assumed you were his date? You had bought a dress that matched his classic blue suit but he hadn’t asked you. He never asked you to any event. You just rode together and hung out the entire event. The cheerleader had sat down so close to him clutching onto his arm through his letterman that smelled like you. Your eyes had filled with tears but you refused to let them fall. He wasn’t yours. Not in that way at least. He’d never even mentioned liking you as anymore than a friend. Your mind started to spiral. You had to get away from them. From him.

He was so distracted by the girl clinging to him that he didn’t notice you get up and leave. You were moving faster than you had ever moved. Your lungs felt like crumpled paper. You ducked into the bathroom, rushing to a stall before anyone could see your tears. You sunk down the wall not caring about how filthy the floors were. You were pretty sure your legs would have collapsed otherwise. You let yourself fall into that feeling but only briefly. He couldn't know. It would ruin the only friendship you had ever known. You had to step back until you convinced yourself that you didn't love him. Not as more than a friend. You took a few calming breaths and stood up. You peeked through the cracks checking that no one was in the bathroom and stepped out taking in your disheveled appearance.

You splashed your face with cold water trying to will the redness around your eyes to go away. You reapplied your mascara and wiped your nose. You were so thankful that your next few classes weren't with Wally.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You had made it the rest of the day without crying. You told yourself that you had no reason to be upset. Wally wasn't yours to get upset about. It worked a little. Your mind still drifted to him constantly.

The final bell had rung signaling that the school day was over. Usually you would go to the field and watch Wally finish up practice then he would drive you home. You weren't ready to see him. For the first time in 4 years you walked home. It was cold. Freezing actually and you never brought a jacket with you because Wally would always give you his letterman or his hoodie. But you needed to feel the chill in your bones. It numbed the searing pain you felt in your chest.

You almost didn't go home knowing that's where Wally would look for you but fuck you were cold. You rushed in thankful that your parents were not gonna be home anytime soon. You quickly threw your bag on your bed and stripped off your clothes needing the shower to bring you back to life. Once you had finally got the feeling back in your fingers you got dressed in a hoodie and sweats that you made sure weren't his at anytime. You slipped on your thickest fuzzy socks and turned the lights off sinking into the bed that smelled faintly of him. Maybe if you sank far enough Wally wouldn't be able to find you.

It wasn't long after that when you heard the rumbling of his truck pulling into his drive way and the shout of your name. You heard the front door open and the familiar squeak of his sneakers on the linoleum of your kitchen. You willed your eyes to close thinking maybe he wouldn't question you if you were sleeping. Your bedroom door swung open so hard that it could have cracked the drywall and Wally was on you.

"Where the hell were you? Why didn't you wait for me?" he said angry but in a hushed tone knowing how much yelling upset you. His hands grabbed onto your face gently taking in your rosy nose and cheeks. He immediately jumps off the bed and starts pacing the floor. "I know you aren't asleep Y/N. Did you walk home? I know you don't have a jacket so please tell me you got a ride from someone." he rushes out eyes glued to your frame as you shift into a sitting position. You try to get your teeth to stop chattering but fail miserably.

You refused to look directly at him as you whisper out "I walked." His hands run through his hair as he looks at you. "Why?" It's one word but it feels extremely loaded. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, picking at the skin there. His pointed look never leaves your face as he sits on the bed next to your feet. "Um..I just needed some space. I'm good." you stammer out. "Bullshit. What is going on and don't make me ask again?" He says in the most serious tone he can muster. You don't know what to say without exposing yourself. You shuffle around in bed not being able to sit still with his gaze on you. You can't help but think about how hot he looks when he's mad.

You suddenly blurt out "I thought we were going to homecoming together. I shouldn't have assumed it I know but I did. I've never gone to a dance without you." Your bottom lip starts to wobble in that way that you hate giving away that you are about to cry and Wally crumbles at the thought that he's the reason for it. He crawls up the bed and wraps his arm around you in a way that should be comforting but feels condescending to you. You push him away and get up from the bed. "I know it's stupid and I'll get over it. I don't want your pity."

His eyebrows furrow together trying to process the information you are throwing at him. "Is that why you disappeared during lunch?" he asks tilting his head like a curious puppy. You just nod your head yes. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize that would hurt you." he says softly. "It's fine. It doesn't even matter. Its not like I bought a matching dress or anything. I'll get over you." You are speaking so quickly that you don't even realize what you've said till it's out of your mouth.

Wally slowly gets up from your bed and walks towards you. You back yourself into a wall as you see his eyes darken. He cages you in between him and the wall, his eyes locked on yours. His tongue darts out to sweep over his pretty pink lips inch from yours. Your breath catches in your throat. He cocks his head to the side "When were you under me, Princess? I would have remembered that. In fact I've dreamed about that but fuck if I would have known taking another girl on a date would get you to look at me like this I would have done it years ago. After you left me with her at lunch I told her that I was actually going to ask you. Had all the football boys make signs and everything. Pretty embarrassing when you didn't show up to practice." his raspy voice sends shivers down your spine. "What?" You ask dumbly, brain moving at snail speed with him this close to you.

He leans down lips brushing your nose then your cheeks. He mumbles against your skin "I am taking you to homecoming. Got it?" You nod your head and his lips capture yours in a bruising kiss. The spark makes your entire body feel tingly. Your brain finally catches up as you mumble out "You've dreamt about me under you?" You bat your lashes at him. A chuckle leaves his mouth "Every damn night, Princess."

Pt 2? Maybe.....

So, I started trying to write this ages ago and now suddenly there is a blurb? Idk how it happened either.

18+, MDNI 1.5k

cw: smutty smut, oral (m!receiving) dom-ish!eddie (he’s back to being a docile puddle by the end, dw), spit and tears and cum (oh my!), face fucking, but make it ~*~romantic~*~

There wasn’t a single part of you that didn’t hurt.

The hinge of your jaw aching from being stretched open, your numbed legs tingling from being folded underneath you, your knees stinging from the scratchy carpet fibers digging into them. Even your hips and shoulders were growing tight from trying to keep your back straight.

Your tired muscles screamed out for relief, for a second of respite—but they wouldn’t be getting it anytime soon. Not when the reason for their pain was so delectably and deliciously handsome.

“How’s that, sweetheart? You like that?”

Eddie’s voice was low and rumbly, emanating from deep in his chest. Just the sound of it made your center spasm and flutter, thighs clenching together in spite of them having fallen asleep.

The only noise you could make was wet gurgles and glucks that barely resembled actual words. You kept your head tipped back so he could watch your eyes fill with tears you could hardly see through. You didn’t need to see to know how gorgeous he looked, though.

Standing over your kneeling form as you gazed up at the soft planes of his torso and tattooed pecs; the barely-there pudge of his belly dusted with his happy trail that grew thicker and darker the further down it traveled; his chest that heaved in time with the persistent rock of his hips.

“Poor baby,” he tutted from overhead. “Can’t say anything with your mouth so full of my cock, huh? Can’t even tell me how much you like it?”

Sympathetic as his words were, his voice was anything but. There was a mocking edge to his tone and a glint in his dark eyes that was almost mean as he stared down at you. He gripped the side of your head, his strong fingers curling around the back of your neck to hold you in place as you received the brunt force of his thrusts. Every stroke was steady and even, his pace never wavering. You sucked in a big breath through your nose and swallowed in response to his question, drawing him deeper into the embrace of your throat and whining softly around him.

“You don’t have to tell me, sweetheart—I know you love this cock. That’s why you let me do this, right? ‘Cos you love it so much?”

You swallowed again, his tip inching down your throat with the motion. It made his brow pinch—just for a second—and his lips part in a breathy gasp he scrambled to hide. But he was too slow, and he felt the hum of pleasure you let out that threatened to unravel him completely.

Those fleeting seconds were the ones you lived for—the briefest flashes of your sweet, soft boy showing through the cracks in his facade when his domineering mask slipped ever so slightly.

As much as you liked this guy, that one was the one you loved. The only one you’d let do this.

“You know my favorite thing about this?” he asked, his grip tightening as his pace started to pick up, his domineering tone getting even lower and more leading, thick and dripping lewdly.

Trying to regain his upper hand.

As if he could ever lose it with you.

Your head shook as best it could with him buried in the back of your throat, and Eddie’s mouth split wide in a crooked smile, almost laughing as he continued in a deep burr.

“It’s that you can’t even argue with me when I tell you how well you’re doing.”

His words washed over you like an unrelenting wave of arousal. Your eyes bulged wide in your skull and you felt your spine go slack with the shivers that rippled down your back. Your head practically hung limp, only making it easier for Eddie to thrust freely until you were gagging.

The pool of spit that had collected in your mouth spilled past your lips and dribbled down your chin, your tongue sliding out of your mouth to lay flat as Eddie’s cock glided over it unforgivingly.

He was at full speed now, barely pulling his cock back before it was ramming back into your soft palate. The wiry hairs at his base tickled your nose and cheeks with each pass and you literally felt yourself sinking beneath his influence, turning liquid and pliant, almost soupy with lust.

“That’s right, baby,” he went on, “you can’t do anything but sit there and take it…”

The tears that had begun to well in your eyes flowed freely now. You blinked rapidly, squishing your lids together trying to clear your blurred vision, the mascara clinging to your lashes likely leaving behind those mottled black trails Eddie loved to see running down your cheeks.

Your chest burned, seizing in anticipation.

Eddie knew this about you, knew how your need for praise and approval was constantly at odds with your inability to accept it. You and he had talked at length about how you loved the rush of having someone compliment you, but it was consistently followed by an equal and opposite   rush of shame. Feeling like you must have tricked or fooled them somehow into saying it.

His grin was triumphant when enough tears had trickled down your cheeks for you to see his face clearly, his plush lips spread wide in a wicked grin.

Eddie was so quick to compliment you, to ply you with talk that was as exalting as it was filthy. 

He was your biggest cheerleader—determined not to let you think for a second you were anything less than the talented, intelligent, kind, complex, hilarious, fucking ravishing creature he saw when he looked at you. But it was difficult, particularly in this area, for you to take his words to heart. To not immediately think he was just getting swept up in the moment, that he didn’t mean any of it. That he was just playing the part, saying his lines as scripted.

“Jesus, you’re so good at this,” he groaned. “I’d fuckin’ live in this throat if I could. You take it so… fucking…well…”

The last few words he punctuated with a punch of his hips. Your throat spasmed with it and your gag reflex made you sputter around his length, drool now running in rivulets down your chin.

“Goddamnit, I love you so much,” he gritted out, his voice cracking slightly as his mask started to slip again the closer he got. “Can’t believe I get to do this, can’t believe you let me—”

It’s the reverence in his tone that gets to you every time. You’d had men tell you before how they couldn’t believe you ‘let them do this’ and it always sounded so incredulous. Like it was dirty and disgusting, and like they were getting away with something. Not at all how Eddie says it.

He says it like it’s a gift. Like it’s the only thing he has ever wanted, and you’re the one offering him his dream come true. Like he isn’t convinced it’s real, or that it’s not something he’s dreaming.

“Oh, you’re fucking everything, you know that?” he asked, looking down at you with his own wet, glossy eyes, “you deserve everything, m’gonna give you everything…”

Your thighs clench again and you can feel your own arousal as it squishes in between your legs, your clit and cunt pulsating in time with the rapid beating of your heart. The tingling in your limbs has spread all over your body, distinctly more pleasurable than the pins and needles.

If you were ever going to cum untouched, it would be from this. No doubt about it.

Blinking through the last of your tears, you stare at Eddie raptly. He’s fucking gorgeous like this, all his muscles pulled taught, tensed and flexing and so close to snapping. His eyes are pinched shut, not quite closed like he doesn’t want to stop looking at you for even a second.

“F-fuck me, m’so close, baby. M’so fucking close, I’m gonna—ahh!”

His voice cracks along with his mask, his domineering tone crumbling into a needy and plaintive moan. With one final thrust, he pulls out of you and wraps his fist around his cock that’s soaked in your spit. You gasp, taking the first full breath you’ve had in ages and stick your tongue out, flattening it against your chin and tipping your head back as far as it will go.

It doesn’t take but a few quick strokes for his warm, salty spend to splatter across your tongue. His expression is almost pained until he sees the look of relief that washes over your face.

Only then does he permit himself to feel the full sensation, to revel in your mutual pleasure.

He drops to his knees, practically collapsing, and throws his arms around your shoulders to pull you into him. His chest heaving against yours while he comes down, he buries his face in your neck and clutches at the back of your head to hold you to him as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispers, words tumbling out of him, “I love you so much.”

You swallow thickly, his cum still warm on your throat as it slides down it. Your head turns to kiss the side of his face and whisper in his ear, voice coming out hoarse but no less adoring.

“I love you too,” you mewl, more tears welling behind your eyes. “Thank you.”

All my love for indulging me — love you, mean it! 📸

no thoughts, just rafe eating his study-till-i-drop girlfriend out to help her destress :)

the gentle knock on your door barely registers. "mom, i'll eat later tonight," you call out, voice clipped but trying to stay calm. it’s the third time you’ve said it, and the second you hear the door open, frustration prickles at your already frazzled nerves.

except it’s not your mom—it’s rafe. he stands in the doorway with his gym bag slung over one shoulder. “later tonight, huh?” he murmurs, an easy smirk tugging at his lips. with a gentle thud, he drops the bag just outside your door and steps inside, nudging the door shut behind him with his foot.

for a moment, your stress falters. the weight in your chest shifts, replaced by something lighter—relief, maybe even the hint of a smile. but it’s fleeting. you shake it off, glancing back at your biology book. “i have a lot to do,” you mutter, your tone softening despite yourself. “how was practice?”

he doesn’t answer immediately, just walks over to your bed, sits down, and kicks off his shoes. when he finally speaks, it’s in that low, casual drawl of his. “sweaty.”

you glance up and notice it now—his slightly damp hair curling at the ends, the faint sheen still clinging to his skin, and the subtle, clean scent of soap that lingers between you.

when you don’t respond, his brows pull together slightly, and he shuffles closer to you. instinctively, you tuck your knees to your chest, resting the weight of your textbook on your thighs to give him space.

“you should eat,” he says, his voice quieter now, laced with something tender. “you’ve been at this all day.”

he’s probably right, but the thought of pausing—of stepping away when you’re so far from finished—feels impossible. your pen moves almost mindlessly across the page as you scribble out another note, your lips parting to respond. but before you can, your notebook is snatched from your lap in one smooth, effortless motion.

“rafe,” you snap, reaching for it immediately. he holds it just out of reach, his grin soft but teasing.

“rafe, i’m not joking,” you warn, leaning forward. before you can try again, his lips meet yours, cutting off your protests with a kiss.

“you’re gonna burn out,” he murmurs against your mouth, his tone gentle but firm.

you pull back slightly, just enough to glare at him, though the frown on your face is more instinct than true frustration. “you haven’t even seen me during exams,” you mutter, the memory of those sleepless, frantic weeks flashing briefly in your mind.

“not looking forward to that,” he says with a quiet chuckle, still pressing faint, featherlight kisses to your lips.

you don’t stop him this time. instead, you find yourself watching him—watching the way his face softens as he leans into you, the way his eyes flicker between yours and your lips, the way his touch feels so deliberate, so careful.

“want me to help you destress?” he asks softly, his voice low and warm.

you blink at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “help me… destress? how?”

his hands trail down your legs, his touch light and teasing. “you had tights on this morning,” he notes, almost absentmindedly.

you nod slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. “they weren’t staying up… i took them off.”

his gaze lowers, and before you fully register what’s happening, his hands are gently parting your legs. your breath hitches as the air shifts between you.

he starts slowly, pressing soft, lingering kisses to your thigh, his lips warm against your skin. you let out a deep, shaky sigh—a sound that seems to rise from an exhaustion you hadn’t even realized you were carrying. each kiss feels deliberate, a quiet offering of care and something deeper, something unspoken.

he works his way lower, inch by inch, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your thighs until he pauses. his eyes lift to meet yours, and his voice comes soft, almost reverent. “can i?”

you nod, breathless, unable to form words. the need simmering in his gaze feels like it could burn right through you, and the anticipation makes your skin hum, every nerve alive and aching for his touch.

his eyes drift down to your cunt that you know is drenched right now, before he’s even done something and the thought of him having you this undone before he’s even touched you is really sad.

when he tugs on the sides of your panties, you freeze for a moment—quiet realization of what’s about to happen and for a second, you’re afraid, afraid of something this new. his gentle eyes are immediately finding yours. “you trust me?” he asks and you know the answer is yes because you say yes without even thinking about it.

“good cause i won’t hurt you, sweetheart..” he’s lightly tugging on your panties, pulling them over your legs until they’re at your ankles and then he’s tossing them to the side. they’re simple white cotton ones and you find yourself wishing you atleast had those sexy, lacy ones.

“you promise?”

“cross my heart,”

he’s properly buried between your thighs now and the first lick along your folds has you gasping and fisting your freshly washed sheets. “you’ve got the prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen, baby..” when his tongue flicks against your drenched cunt, you let out a moan that is downright embarrassingly loud. before the noise can travel, rafe’s hand is flying to cover your mouth and you’re left muffling against his palm.

“as much as i’m dying to hear you moan my name, that’s a risk we can’t take right now, hm?” he murmurs and you assume that’s a sign that he’d go easy on you, you assume that since your parents are currently two floors below you and rafe cares about what they think, he wouldn’t go overboard.

you assume wrong.

“rafe!” you cry out against his palm, head tilting back as he shoves his tongue between your lips. your back is arching off the bed as your one hand holds onto his wrist that’s covering your mouth while the other is gripping rafe’s hair for dear life.

you were completely under the impression that the way his tongue was kissing and flicking your hole and folds was the pinnacle of all of this and you could imagine yourself cumming from just that in the next five minutes.

but then he’s licking from your hole to your clit and the moment his tongue makes first contact with your clit, your eyes fly open and your brain goes completely fuzzy.

“that’s it, baby, lemme make you feel good..” he’s muttering, mouth still right on your clit and you can hardly focus on his words, can hardly focus on much else but the pleasure that seems to be intensifying with every second that passes, “p-please..! i’m..i—“ you’re stuttering, eyes glossy in this almost fucked out state and you’re not even sure what you’re trying to say, what you want. you want something, need something.

“i’ll take care of you. i got you, babygirl.” you want to move, want to push against his mouth or push your hand against the back of his head to pull him in but your body feels too weak. all you can do is let out these muffled, shaky cries against rafe’s palms as he ate you out like it was his very last meal.

your whole body is trembling, a thin sheen of glistening sweat covers your forehead and you swear you can see stars right on the ceiling of your bedroom. rafe’s tongue is relentless, tirelessly lapping and licking at your clit, sucking it into his mouth and you’re losing focus, can’t think straight anymore. your eyes are rolling back as you attempt to push your mound against his lips.

you shudder when the pleasure only intensifies, “gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” rafe’s murmuring against your clit and you’re nodding frantically, “mhm! m’ gonna cum…gonna c-cum..!” you know it’s coming, can feel something pushing against you, pushing you over the edge and you’re about to spill.

rafe doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow, just devours you no matter how hard you’re pulling on his hair because you’re about to cum and it’s gonna be all over him and the humiliation of that would kill you.

“rafe! s’ too much!” you gasp and somehow, rafe knows just what to do, just which way to flick his tongue because not a moment later, your toes are curling, fingers tightening in his hair, back arching off your sheets and you’re coming all over his face, slick gushing out as you cry so loud he has to stuff your mouth with his fingers to keep you quiet.

he only removes his fingers after a second and then he’s rising up from between your legs while you lay there, head on your pillow, in this almost dream-like state, trying to catch your breath.

“all good?” his voice is soft, slightly out of breath but steady compared to your shallow pants. you nod, still catching your breath, as he leans over and grabs a tissue from the box on your nightstand. his movements are slow, careful as he cleans you both up, the gentle press of the tissue against your skin making you hyperaware of the moment.

it’s only when you shift slightly that your eyes flicker downward, catching the unmistakable bulge in his sweats. a rush of heat floods your cheeks, and you sit up slowly, your movements hesitant. “you—”

he follows your gaze and shakes his head immediately, cutting off your words before you can finish. “nah, don’t worry about me,” he says, his tone easy but resolute. he leans forward, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, the warmth of his lips grounding you even as your thoughts spin.

still, your eyes drift back to him, lingering a second too long. the idea settles in your chest, insistent and new, and before you can second-guess yourself, your hand starts to reach for him.

he catches your wrist gently but firmly, halting you in place. “no.” his voice is low, the single word laced with finality. his thumb brushes against the delicate skin of your wrist as he holds it, his gaze steady on yours. “go eat.”

you blink up at him, torn between frustration and a quiet determination. “i want to help you,” you murmur, your voice soft but unwavering, the words carrying more weight than you intended. your eyes meet his, defiant, even as your pulse races.

he exhales a small laugh, tilting his head until his forehead rests against yours. his lips brush yours, featherlight, a whisper of contact that leaves you yearning for more. “not today,” he says softly, his voice dropping to a near murmur. “go eat.”

his words leave no room for argument, but the tenderness in his tone eases the sting of his refusal. reluctantly, you shift off the bed, your legs unsteady as you make your way toward the door.

snippet from 'teach please me' series.

Wally all greasy and in those blue jumpsuits 🤤🤤🤤

Alphabet Soup

summary: prompt fill. the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it.

pairing: grey!Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. romanticized toxic behavior. cheating. cybersex. spit as lube. egregious use of the word 'baby'.

bon reading, frens

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Alphabet Soup - V

V is for Wally's very inappropriate use of company time. Bud Binns, grandson and owner of Reggie's Auto Repair, is in the garage, under the belly of another vintage car, hard at work and none the wiser.

The expo's in town, part of Split River's annual autumn fair that celebrates community spirit and agriculture. Wally couldn't give less of a shit, but car enthusiasts from orbiting towns have descended in droves and Wally likes the money. He's been up to his elbows in grease and oil since Monday; no time for himself. For homework. For football. For you.

He deserves every break he takes and Bud, so grateful for Wally volunteering his valuable time, shoos him to the break room with a gruff, "ya got fifteen minutes, kid." And, taking full advantage of the windowless room with the lock, Wally hunkers down on the couch and video calls you. He's pent up and frustrated and misses the way his name sounds when you moan it.

You answer after two rings, either having anticipated him or missing him, too, as you're wearing the wine-colored lace set that makes his mouth water. Barely-there bra, crotchless panties, stockings that bulge the flesh of your thighs above the band and make Wally's cock twitch. Your phone already set in the tripod Wally sent you from Amazon for exactly this reason.

"Hey, baby," He purrs, undoes his jeans onehanded, and cups himself. Legs spread wide. Massages his balls as he watches your body arch and curve while you ride the mount he slipped into your room when Janet wasn't looking. The dildo isn't as girthy as he is, but he doesn't want it to be—calling the shots for what toys you buy because he's got a thing about being the biggest cock to stuff your cunt. "You miss me that bad, huh, sweet girl?"

You moan, cheeks cherry red, plush lips parted around his name, a vision of hot desperation for him.

"What are you thinking about, baby?" He wants to know, cock hardening in his hand as he watches you sink and lift on the dildo. "You thinking about how good I make you feel?"

"I always think of you, Wally," And, fuck, yeah, that's it, pretty girl, show Wally how you like to be fucked. "Only you."

Wally leans into the back of the couch, holding himself, not ready to give in to his need just yet. "What're you thinking about, baby? Tell me what you're picturing. Tell me what you want me to do to you."

He swallows hard when you start describing the fantasy, your tits bouncing as you begin to ride the toy harder, faster, then slow and sensual, leaning back to show off where the dildo disappears inside you. His mouth goes dry as you move, his voice tense when he murmurs, dark and rough, "You like thinking about the way I feel inside you, baby girl? You think of it a lot, don't you?"

Grits his teeth, groans quietly, closing his eyes for a few seconds to rein his control. His cock throbs in his hand, flushed and dribbling; fuck, you're slutty little noises, the way your body moves like liquid metal, "Say my name again, baby. Just like that." And, finally, he spits in his hand and teases over the tip, uses pre to slick himself up so he can fuck his fist how he wants to fuck you. He hisses, a hot shiver running through him; that intense, euphoric flush through his entire body. The way you say his name drives him insane.

It's—fuck, God—it's so good. His eyes are glued to the screen, to you, to your hips, your tits, your face. Every sound you release makes his jaw tick as he loses himself.

"Need you so bad, Wally," You whine in pleasure, reaching for something offscreen. A buzz. A gasp. Holding the vibe against your clit as you bounce on the dildo. He can hear the juicy squelch of your pussy around the toy and he groans, eyes rolling back, skin tingling.

"Fuck, baby, your pussy's so wet for me." Wally licks his lips, eyes heavy and eclipsed with desire, "Show me how pretty you are when you come for me, baby."

You keen, "Wish it was you, Wally." His mind goes fucking blue screen when you choke, "You'd make me come so hard..."

"Yeah?" He pants, his hand moving faster, "You want me to make you come, sweet girl?"

He watches you watch him, sees how needy you are for his cock, and a smile flickers across his face. His head is swimming, chest heaving, so ready to come just from watching you, but he tries to hold it together, tries not to succumb to the urge. Not yet. Not until you do.

"Yeah...fuck, that's it. Ride it, baby..." Wally's flushed, head starting to spin. From the need, from wanting you, from how fucking good you are for him, his perfect little porn star. Oh, God, he hears a whimper, a moan, your body trembling as you cry out. A hushed groan, "Yeah? Are you coming for me, baby?"

And you shake, head tossed back, body rigid except your hips which grind the dildo inside you as you come apart. He strips his cock faster as he watches you, has to close his eyes, shit, he's so close, he just needs—

"Say it again, baby... I'm so close... Say it again. Say my name..."

You do, a sweet, breathy sob forming the syllables that send him crashing over the edge. Comes all over his fist, groan ripped from his chest, head falling back against the couch, holy fuck, baby girl, he already can't wait to do that again.

"My perfect girl," He praises between breaths and slopes you a lazy, satisfied smile.

But there's no time to bask in the afterglow, his fifteen minutes done, and he needs to get back to work before Bud comes looking. He ends the call with a promise to Snap later, it'll be worth it, baby. Stay up, okay?

Wally washes his hands, fixes his jeans, and saunters into the garage in the best mood he's been in all week.

🧿___________________________

MASTERLIST

also available on AO3!

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Blurb:

Just my brain being turned on by hands. 🤷‍♀️

Eddie Munson loves teasing. It comes second nature to him.

He’d slip his hand around your throat anytime he was standing behind you. Giving it a tight squeeze then dragging his palm down your breast before settling on your hips.

He’d pretend his rings got caught in your hair to hear the little whine escape you when he pulled it.

He’d touch you in the gentlest ways yet so heated. Running his fingers in circles up your calf or down your spine.

He wanted you begging for his attention, his hands, his mouth, his cock.

Yes. Yep. Mhm. *chefs kiss*

Your fuck buddy rafe finds out you have breeding kink

Pairing: fwb!rafe cameron x soft!reader

Warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex, dirty talk rafe being cocky

---

The phone rang at an ungodly hour, cutting through the silence of your bedroom. You glanced at the screen. It was Rafe.

You didn’t even hesitate. The agreement was simple—no strings, no expectations, just a call when one of you needed the other. You weren’t expecting anything deep or emotional. You just knew what you were walking into.

Pulling on your hoodie and slipping into the nearest pair of jeans, you left your apartment in a rush, your heart already racing for reasons you weren’t entirely sure of.

Rafe’s house was only a few minutes away, but by the time you stepped inside, you felt like you’d been standing on the edge of something you couldn’t pull back from. The door was unlocked, as usual. You pushed it open without knocking.

“Door’s open,” his voice drifted from somewhere deeper in the house, a tone you recognized as his usual cocky, casual self. You didn’t need to look at him yet to know the posture—the one that said he owned everything around him.

You stepped into the living room, your eyes locking on him as he stood by the couch, a drink in hand. He looked like he always did—laid-back, confident, too damn handsome for your own good. The only difference tonight was the dark glint in his eyes that made your heart skip.

“You’re here,” Rafe said, a smirk playing on his lips as his gaze traveled over you, lingering for just a second too long. “Always so eager. You really can’t stay away, can you?”

The words stung, but you didn’t respond. You never did when he teased you. Instead, you swallowed, trying to calm the rush of warmth that was spreading through your body. He wasn’t even touching you yet, but you could feel the pull of him like a magnet.

“I didn’t call you here for small talk,” Rafe continued, taking a step forward, his eyes never leaving you. “You know what this is.”

You nodded, your throat tight as you looked up at him, trying to maintain your usual calm. But Rafe always had a way of making you feel small—no matter how hard you tried. His presence had a way of swallowing you whole.

With a subtle shift, Rafe reached out, pulling you close. His hands slid under the hem of your hoodie, the warmth of his fingers against your skin causing a shiver to ripple down your spine. Your breath hitched as he leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You look so sweet tonight. You know I can’t resist when you act all innocent like this.”

You blinked, heart pounding. Innocent? You weren’t sure if that was how he saw you. But in this moment, you felt anything but innocent. Your mind was clouded with the desire to be close to him, to be used by him, the way you always did.

But tonight, things felt different. It was almost as if he was waiting for something.

“You still like this, don’t you?” Rafe asked, his voice low and dangerous, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers moved lower, brushing the waistband of your jeans. “Tell me you do. Tell me how much you want me.”

You swallowed, your pulse racing, but when you finally spoke, it was barely a whisper, “I want you…”

“Yeah, I know you do,” he muttered, his hands sliding beneath your jeans, pushing them down just enough for him to feel the softness of your skin. “But I think there’s more you’re hiding, doll.”

Your eyes widened, a flicker of panic rushing through you. But before you could speak, his fingers dipped lower, brushing against a place you hadn’t expected him to go. The shock of his touch sent a jolt through you, your body instantly reacting, but you held back your gasp.

Rafe’s smirk widened, as if he could read you like a book. “I know exactly what this is. You like being bred, don’t you?”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the heat of shame flooding your chest. You were embarrassed, humiliated even, but at the same time… the thought of him using you like that made your body ache in ways you couldn’t deny. You tried to look away, to hide the flush on your face, but his grip on your chin forced you to meet his eyes.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he demanded. “Tell me you want it. Tell me how much you need me to fuck you like that.”

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but the truth hung on the tip of your tongue, and when he pressed against you, you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“I need it,” you whispered, the words escaping your lips in a breathless rush.

Rafe chuckled darkly, his hands tightening on you. “That’s what I thought.”

He pushed you back onto the couch with a gentle yet commanding motion, his hands quickly stripping you of your clothes. The speed of it had you gasping, but you didn’t fight it. You never did when he took control.

Rafe loomed over you, his eyes drinking you in like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. “You don’t get to be shy now,” he growled, his fingers sliding into you with a practiced ease that made you gasp. “You’re mine when I want you, doll. And right now? I want you.”

You closed your eyes, your heart racing. It wasn’t just the physical connection anymore. It was the way Rafe made you feel—like you were his, even when he wasn’t here. And right now, you couldn’t help but want everything he was about to give you.

Rafe’s breath was heavy above you, his fingers working with a sure, experienced touch as he stretched you, preparing you for what he had in mind. Every movement of his made your body react, whether you wanted it to or not. It was like an invisible thread tethering you to him, and you were powerless to fight it.

“You feel that?” he asked, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s me getting you ready, doll. You’ve wanted this, haven’t you? Don’t be shy. You can’t hide from me.”

You could barely form words, your body so consumed with need that all you could do was nod, desperately trying to catch your breath. His thumb brushed your clit, sending a shock of pleasure through you. Your whole body stiffened at the sensation, and you couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

“You like that,” Rafe observed, his grin widening as he leaned down to kiss you, his lips tasting like whiskey and something darker. “You like being touched like this. But you also like being filled, don’t you? You like when I make you mine.”

You could feel the heat rising in your chest, your pulse pounding in your ears. The words were more than you could handle, but they also sparked something deeper in you. Something you couldn’t suppress. Your body craved him in a way that left you trembling.

“I—” You started to speak but couldn’t finish the sentence. You were too embarrassed to say it aloud. But Rafe wasn’t going to let you off that easily. He wanted to hear you say it.

“Say it, sweetheart,” he demanded, his voice a dark, teasing whisper. “Tell me what you need.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, the warmth of his breath on your skin almost too much to handle. Finally, you managed, “I need you to—please… I want you to—fuck me like that.”

A satisfied chuckle rumbled in his chest as he positioned himself between your legs, his body brushing against yours. “I knew it,” he muttered, his hands gripping your hips as he slid inside of you. You gasped, your body arching instinctively to meet him. The stretch was almost overwhelming, but the heat of his skin against yours made the discomfort fade quickly, replaced by an overwhelming need for more.

Rafe’s pace was slow at first, savoring each movement as he drove deeper, but it didn’t take long before his rhythm became harder, faster, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

“God, you’re so tight, doll,” he groaned, his forehead pressed against yours. “You feel so fucking good. Do you like this? Tell me you like it.”

“Yes,” you whispered, barely able to breathe. “I like it, Rafe. Please, don’t stop.”

The grip on your hips tightened, and you gasped as Rafe picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic, harder. You could feel him everywhere, your entire focus consumed by the feel of him inside you. The way his name fell from your lips—shaky, breathless—only seemed to drive him further into madness.

“Good girl,” he muttered, his lips grazing your ear. “You’re mine now. All of you. And I’ll make you beg for more.”

His words were dark and possessive, and they sent a thrill straight to your core. You couldn’t stop the moan that left your throat, the shame of your desire quickly giving way to pure need. You didn’t care anymore. Not when he was like this. Not when he was all you could think about, all you could feel.

Rafe’s movements became more frantic, more desperate. His grip on you was almost bruising, but you didn’t care. You wanted him—needed him—just as badly as he needed you.

“Don’t hold back,” he growled, his voice rough. “I know you want it. Come on, let go.”

The tension in your body coiled tighter, your stomach tightening as you felt your climax building. You were so close, so close to unraveling. And Rafe knew it. He could feel the way your body responded to him, the way your walls tightened around him, and it drove him wild.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin as he pressed harder into you. “I’ll give you everything you need.”

And then, with a final thrust, you came undone, your body shaking as the pleasure took over. Rafe’s name slipped from your lips in a breathless cry, and as you clenched around him, he followed you, the warmth of his release flooding you, his grip on you never loosening.

He stayed there for a moment, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath, his body still pressed against yours. The room was thick with the aftermath, and you both just lay there for a few moments, your heartbeats slowing as the haze of pleasure faded.

Rafe pulled away, but he didn’t let go of you. His eyes locked onto yours, dark with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Good girl,” he muttered again, his fingers brushing your cheek. “You did so well for me tonight. Don’t think I didn’t notice how you responded. You’re mine when I want you, doll. And I always want you.”

You were breathless, your body still recovering from what had just happened. But there was something inside you—something about the way Rafe looked at you that made you want to stay, made you want more, even if you knew it was dangerous. You weren't sure what this was, but in this moment, you didn't care.

Rafe had you. And you were more than willing to let him take everything he wanted.