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Draco 🤤🤤🤤

PLEASEEEE MORE POSSESSIVE JELOUS DRACO🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️YOUR BAD SANTA FIC WAS LITERALLY EVEYTHING. POSSESSIVE MEN GOT ME WEAK

thank you for the request!! hope this is satisfactory 🫶🏻

Flutterby Baby | D.M.

feat. Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Draco finds out another student sabotaged your Herbology project.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, draco’s pov, established relationship, possessive!draco, bullying, hurt/comfort, men suck, sort of rough fingering & piv, affectionate degradation if you squint (he refers to her as a plant), blood/fighting

masterlist

Draco watched as you pushed your pasta around your plate, staring absently at the whirls of sauce on the porcelain. You’d been quiet the entire meal, only speaking when directly spoken to by your group of friends, and even then, it was half-hearted, brief answers.

Both were unusual for his talkative, carb-loving girl.

He placed a light hand on your thigh, leaning closer to you. The warmth of your skin, the sweetness of your perfume, beckoned him even closer, but he ignored his impulses. “Everything alright, darling?” He asked, low enough that your friends couldn’t hear.

“Yes, just not very hungry,” you said in your pretty little voice, placing your hand over his and pecking his cheek.

He didn’t buy it. “I can track down some takeaway and we can eat in my dorm, if you’d like,” he offered, wondering if the commotion in the Great Hall was a bit too much for you.

You shook your head, another stunning development. You never turned down takeaway. “I’m fine, baby. Thank you, though.”

“Well, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll make one of these sod’s fetch it for you,” he teased, hoping to get a smile out of you. He didn’t.

Draco sighed, pressing a kiss to your temple before turning back to the conversation he was in the middle of with Theo and Pansy. He continued to watch you in his periphery as you started to play with his fingers, twirling his signet ring around and around. As much as he enjoyed the mindless contact, the delicate brush of your skin, he knew this was a nervous habit of yours.

He had half-a-thought to excuse you both, but he knew that would only draw more attention to your melancholy state, which would likely make you feel even worse. He could pick your brain later. Right now, he needed to make sure you were fed.

Casually, he picked up his fork, twirling a bit of his own pasta around the tines. Without breaking away from his conversation, he held the fork up to you, hoping you’d take a bite without really thinking about it. It was a small ritual the two of you developed during lengthy family dinners, something you often did automatically if he offered food to you. He felt you shift forward, your mouth wrap around the small bite, and you ate it.

He squeezed your thigh, a flare of affection making his heart pound. Good girl, he thought, but refrained from saying aloud.

The rest of dinner continued like that, Draco keeping your friends talking and distracted while he fed you small bites of his own dinner, your fingers twined with his in your lap. When he held up a bite and you gave small shake of your head, he knew it was because you were actually full, and he set his fork down, satisfied. For now.

That night in the common room, you were curled up in your chair by the fire, a book open in your lap while everyone pretended to study around you. He watched your eyes, your hands curled around the cover, and you were motionless. No pages turned, no lines devoured.

His worry deepened. Blaise seemed to notice as well, and gave him a curious look, dark brow raised. And of course, Theo caught the exchange, but turned back to his work, pretending he didn’t.

A prickle of suspicion climbed Draco’s neck. Typically, Theo was the first one to make a fuss over someone being in a sour mood due to his inability to tolerate negative emotions, but this time, he stayed silent.

Very odd, indeed.

But he could worry about Theo later. Draco lifted himself from the couch and walked over to you, dropping onto the floor in front of your chair. He tilted his head back, resting it against your shins. You reached down, dragging your fingers through his hair while you continued “reading” your book. He let his eyes flutter closed at the sensation, and tried to think of a way to draw you out of your head.

Lips pressed against his forehead, your perfume wafting over him, and he hummed in appreciation, reaching up to cradle your face. You leaned your cheek into his palm, and he titled his head back a little further to connect your lips in a soft kiss.

Your lips moved against his, brief and tender, and some of his tension unwound. It didn’t seem that you were upset with him, which was a relief. But, he wasn’t any closer to figuring out what exactly was troubling you.

“I’m going to go to bed,” you murmured in his ear, and he blinked in surprise, checking his watch.

It wasn’t even nine o’clock.

“So early, love? Are you feeling alright?” He turned to face you, rising to his knees. The group noticed, but he was too concerned to care. He placed the back of his hand on your forehead, your cheek, your neck, but you waved him away.

“I’m fine, D. Just tired,” you said, averting your eyes from his and rising from your chair.

“Baby—”

You leaned down and kissed him again, cutting off his protest. “I love you, I’ll see you in the morning,” you said, pecking his cheek one more time before walking towards the girls dormitory and ascending the stairs.

Draco slumped back to the ground, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“What did you do to her?” Pansy accused after a moment of tense silence.

“Nothing,” he snapped, though it was mostly toothless.

“She was acting strangely at dinner too,” Blaise noted. “She didn’t even have dessert.”

“Yeah, and she loves those chocolate things—what are they called?” Theo chimed in.

“Cauldron cakes,” Draco answered, glaring at them, irked that they were paying that close of attention to you. That was his job.

“Are you going to follow her?” Blaise asked, glancing at the stairs.

“No, he should give her some space,” Pansy said, giving him a pointed look.

“I’m perfectly capable of managing my girlfriend’s needs. Thank you,” he bit, and they fell quiet. He would leave you be, for now, but if you were still in a funk tomorrow evening, he’d be forced to intervene.

You were decidedly still unlike yourself come the following morning, and when he saw you during your shared Potion’s class. He continued to monitor the situation, trying to be patient like you often asked him to be, but that went out the window when you returned from your Herbology class with Theo in tears.

As soon as Draco saw your red and puffy eyes, he was on his feet. You ran straight into his chest, burying your wet face in his robes and digging your chilled hands into his back, trembling as your tears returned in earnest.

“Darling, what’s happened? What’s going on?” He cooed, wrapping his arms around your shaking torso, petting your hair in an attempt to soothe you. You didn’t respond, just held him tighter as you cried.

Theo tried to slip around the two of you, but Draco pinned him with a glare.

“What happened?” Draco hissed at him.

“Her Flutterby bush is dying,” Theo whispered, and you started to cry harder.

Shit. You’d slaved half the semester over this Flutterby bush in Herbology, it was your pride and joy, and you often stayed after hours with Professor Sprout to tend to it and the rest of the greenhouse. You had the greenest thumb Draco had ever encountered, and that plant was your baby. There was no way it would just suddenly die.

Draco raised a brow, and Theo made a ‘tell you later’ face. He nodded his head to dismiss his friend and turned his attention back to you, his poor, sensitive girl.

“Baby, it’s going to be alright. I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s going on—”

You shook you head. “It doesn’t make sense,” you sniffled, your voice muffled by his shirt. “It was perfectly fine. There’s no bugs or blights, I don’t understand.” You lifted your face, cheeks streaked with tears and lashes spikey, your eyes rimmed with red. The state of you made his heart ache.

“It’ll be alright,” he whispered, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs and pressing a kiss to your nose. “If anyone can save it, you can. You’re brilliant, love.” He used his sleeve to wipe your eyes and your nose before bundling you into his side. “Come on, relax for a bit with Pansy. That’ll help you think a little more clearly, yeah?”

You nodded, letting him deposit you on the couch beside your friend, who immediately abandoned what she was doing to fuss over you.

He kissed the top of your head, satisfied that you were well looked after for the time being. “I love you, I’ll be right back, okay?” He murmured, and you nodded again.

Theo was waiting for him in the hall. “Okay, so don’t get mad,” he said, holding his hands up.

Draco’s anger instantly flared. “Don’t give me a reason to get mad then.”

“She told me not to tell you because she knew you’d get all—” Theo gestured vaguely at Draco. “All…this.”

“Out with it, Nott,” he growled, fully prepared to punch his best friends nose through the back of his skull. What could you possibly want to keep from him?

“We think someone poisoned her plant,” Theo said, grimacing.

Draco froze, rage flaring so suddenly it darkened his vision. “What?” he snarled.

“We can’t say for sure yet,” Theo said hurriedly, trying to get ahead of the oncoming storm. “But there’s this one guy—”

“Who?”

“Reinhardt? Renfield? Something like that, I don’t know, he’s a Gryffindor. But he—Draco, where are you going?”

Draco was already halfway down the hall, formulating a plan in his mind about how to find this guy, and how to make him wish he’d never been born.

Theo grabbed his shoulder. “Listen, I have a better idea than storming the Gryffindor common room,” he said, and Draco paused.

“Go on.”

Draco loitered outside the Greenhouse, hidden by some trees, a stupid plastic ear in his hand. Theo had the other tucked into his robes, and Draco could hear Sprout beginning her lecture through their connection.

Draco sighed. This was ridiculous, he should just waltz in there and figure out exactly who this—

“Hey, y/n,” he heard someone mutter, an unfamiliar male voice, and he immediately held up the ear to listen. “Flutterby’s not lookin’ so good. Maybe I could help clear away some of the dead stuff?”

Draco's ears started ringing so loudly, he almost missed your response.

“I'm killing it just fine on my own, Renley, I don't need any assistance from you.”

He heard Theo snicker in the background, and Draco smiled. Atta girl.

“My mandrakes are thriving, thank you,” Renley replied, his voice tight with indignation. “It's a real shame about yours, though. Probably would have gotten you top marks.”

You didn't respond, and Draco gripped a tree branch to stop himself from charging through the glass to get this audacious fucker.

“Fuck off, Renford,” Theo warned, the feed clouded by his robes rustling.

“It's Renley,” the prick corrected, his voice a little louder, and Draco could practically hear Theo roll his eyes. “So, what do you say, sweetheart?” Sweetheart? Oh, this fucker was a dead man walking. “I'm willing to stay after and help you out. I'm good with poisons—”

“Poison’s?” You asked, a snarky lilt to your voice, and Draco loosed a relieved exhale despite the implication. For the first time in days, you sounded like yourself. “Who said anything about poison?”

“Oh, I—uh—”

“Reindeer, how did you know her plant was poisoned?” Theo prodded, his smirk audible.

“I don't! It's obv—it’s probably not p-poison!” Renley stammered.

“What's this about poison?” Sprout interrupted at the same moment Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle emerged from the treeline.

“Check fucking mate,” Draco mouthed, grinning.

“Professor Sprout, I do believe Renley here just confessed to poisoning y/n’s beloved Flutterby bush,” Theo said.

“Is this true, dearie?” Sprout asked you.

“Yes ma’am, it explains the strange phenomena we noted, as well as the sudden nature of the ailment. Renley’s been taunting me for days, and finally his mouth got ahead of his brain,” you said, poised as a Queen, and Draco was so proud of you it hurt.

Sprout gasped. “Mr. Renley! To Dumbledore's office this instant!”

“Crabbe, Goyle, grab him,” Draco ordered, stuffing the ear into his robes.

The two of them lumbered over the door, staying out of sight until the culprit stepped out into the sunlight, and Goyle grabbed Renley by the shoulders and started to drag him back around the Greenhouse.

“Hey! What the fuck—” his words pinched to a strangled whine when he saw Draco and Blaise waiting a few feet away, arms folded over their chests, completely hidden from the rest of campus.

Goyle shoved him to the ground at Draco's feet, and the coward was already sniveling.

Draco crouched down, nose to nose with the fucker that made his girl miserable, and smiled. “Was it worth it, Renley?” Draco asked, his voice low.

“Look, Malfoy. I didn't mean to—”

Draco didn't give him a chance to finish his paltry excuse and cocked his fist back, slamming his knuckles square in the side of his jaw. The bone crunched under his fist, sending Renley flying sideways in a spray of spit and blood, and Draco rose, clenching and unclenching his aching hand.

Normally, he'd step back and let the others get their hands dirty, but you were his girl. And if anyone was going to defend your honor, it would be him.

“No, no please!” Renley begged when Goyle hauled him back up. Draco punched him again, dead on the nose, then the temple, then the sternum. Goyle let Renley fall, groveling and weeping as blood ran down his face, his eyes already half-swollen shut.

Draco grabbed him by the hair, lifting his head up so he could whisper in his ear. “You're lucky it wasn't poison,” he snarled, and dropped Renley’s head into the dirt. “Leave him on the front steps of the castle,” he said to Crabbe and Goyle, who immediately pulled the boy up and started dragging him back towards the castle.

Blaise chuckled. “That was fucking brutal, mate.”

Draco looked down at his bruised and bloody knuckles, the pain bright and deliciously satisfying, his signet ring splattered with red. “Like I said, he's lucky I didn't decide to poison him.”

The chatter of students filled the air, and he looked up to see the Greenhouse emptying. Theo headed straight for them, glancing at Draco's knuckles and the blood in the grass before breaking out in a wild grin.

“Sorry I missed it,” Theo laughed.

“Where is she?” Draco asked.

“Staying behind to administer the antidote. Sprout is leaving her to ensure Renley is dealt with accordingly.”

“Well, she certainly won't be disappointed,” Blaise snickered.

“So she’s alone?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. He was hoping to clean himself up before seeing you, but wasn't sure he could resist the temptation. Not with his blood still running hot and your smart little voice echoing in his mind.

“Yep.” Theo smirked. “See ya’ back in the common room.” He and Blaise turned and started heading back to the castle, leaving Draco alone.

He rounded the greenhouse, knocking with his sore knuckles so he didn't startle you.

“Draco? What are you—saints, your hands!” You cried, rushing over to open the door for him. You grabbed for his hands, face pinched with worry.

“I'm fine, love,” he cooed, letting you fuss. The air in the greenhouse was thick and warm, coaxing him in like a embrace. It smelled fresh and lush, sweet soil and green leaves, like you.

Merlin, he couldn't think straight with you looking at him like that.

“Who did—” you paused, eyes narrowing. “Renley?”

He smirked. “Maybe.”

“Draco!” You huffed, dropping his hands. “I had it under control!”

“I know you did! You were amazing! I just...accelerated the consequences.”

You glared at him, but he could see you softening by the second.

“Baby, I'm fine. And he'll be fine in like, four to five business days.”

“Draco!” You shouted, but you were smiling. He fucking loved what you called his name in that exasperated but undeniably affectionate voice. “You don't have to get involved all the time. I'm perfectly capable of fighting my own battles, and Professor Sprout was working with me to solve it and—”

Draco reached out, pinching your cheeks with one hand, pursing your pouting lips and dragging you closer to him. “I'd do it again in a heartbeat. No one fucks with you so long as I'm breathing, is that clear?”

You nodded, eyes round and sweet like honey.

He released your face, sliding his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck and craning your head upwards. “Can I kiss you now? Or would you like to keep telling me off?”

You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his in a playful, smiley kiss. “Anything for my hero.”

“Anything?” Draco purred, walking you back into the long work table. You gasped, arching against his chest, and he caught the sound with another kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips to taste you.

Your tongue tangled with his, so eager as you pulled his tie to bring him closer. He guided your tongue into his mouth, sucking lightly before releasing you to bite your lip, toying with your mouth like he owned it.

And he could feel how much you loved it, your hips pressing against his as your hands wandered his chest, unable to pick a resting place.

He smiles, moving his hands to grip your hips. In a quick movement, he spun you around. Your hands slapped onto the table to catch yourself, your perfect ass pressing back against his rapidly hardening cock.

“Draco,” you whined, trying to look over your shoulder at him.

He tsked, sliding up your skirt, admiring the way his ruined knuckles looked against the soft flesh. “Do you want me to be gentle with you, darling?” He already knew what your answer would be, especially after a few stressful days, but he felt inclined to double check.

You shook your head side to side, pressing your ass back into his hands. “No.”

He smiled, squeezing the ample flesh, then delivered a swift slap that made you gasp. “That's my girl. You want me to scare away all those bad thoughts? Turn your brain off for a bit?” He slid his right hand between your legs, gliding two fingers over the damp spot on your panties.

You nodded, nails scratching along the wood when he applied a little pressure, moving his hand in a slow circle.

“Words, love,” he said, pausing his movement.

“Yes, baby. Please,” you whined, and his cock gave a painful lurch against his thigh.

“Colloportus,” he murmured, flicking his wand to lock the Greenhouse door. “Don't move,” he ordered, then walked over to the sink, washing the blood from his hands and muttering a quiet episkey to fix most of the damage on his skin. Some cuts remained, and his hands were still sore and slightly bruised, but it wasn't nearly as bad.

Satisfied, he turned his attention back to you, where you remained perfectly still, nibbling at your lower lip. In quick movement, he pulled down your panties, letting the fall around your ankles, and kicked your feet further apart, forcing you to lay your chest against the table.

“There we go,” he purred, bringing his hand back between your legs.

You were already soaked, hot and slick as his middle finger swiped through your sex. He started massaging your clit, quick, light circles that had you moaning breathlessly.

“Better, darling? Nothing to worry about besides being my good girl.” He moved away from your clit and eased his middle finger inside of you, his signet ring kissing your entrance before he curled his finger up. Your walls fluttered around him, sucking back against his finger when he pulled it out, only to graciously stretch for him when he added a second.

“Fuck, D,” you moaned, rocking your hips against his hand. “You said you wouldn't be gentle “

He smirked, enraptured with the way your pretty little cunt yielded for his battered hand. “Just so pretty,” he hummed, leaning down to whisper in your ear, pressing you harder against the table. “Can't help but worship you a little.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but he slammed his fingers inside of you, drilling into your channel with sloppy, punishing strokes. You cried out, feet sliding around on the floor, but he had you pinned and at his mercy.

“This better, brat?” He growled, nipping at your ear when you keened for him, unable to formulate a response. “Oh, how that fucker wishes he could see you now,” he drawled, straightening while his fingers fucked into you. “What'd he call you? Sweetheart?” He chuckled. “Sweet doesn't begin to cover it.”

“How did you—”

He slipped his fingers out to work your clit, the bud swelling under his touch as your orgasm built, and your words twisted into a moan. He tried to stay focused, keep you on the edge until he was sheathed inside of you, but couldn't bring himself to stop just yet.

“Are you sweet, baby?” He asked, swatting your ass cheek, enjoying the way your flesh rippled.

“Only for you,” you gasped, starting to tremble as that knot wound tighter and tighter.

“That's right,” he praised, undoing his trousers and taking his cock in his hand. He was insanely hard, the head a deep pink, pearly precum beading from the slit. He pumped himself twice to relieve some of the ache, then notched himself at your entrance, not pausing his assault on your clit for a moment. “All fucking mine,” he growled at the same moment he thrust inside of you, burying himself to the hilt.

You cried out, muscles contracting hard around him, and he groaned low in his throat. You were so fucking tight, gooey and supple when you weren't squeezing the life out of him. He drew back a few inches before snapping his hips forward, gripping your ass cheek in his free hand to keep you spread for him as he pounded into you.

He felt your orgasm hit the second before you did, your cunt clamping down on him a heartbeat before you screamed, your whole body locking up before going completely limp. He didn't let up, no matter how much you shook, how much you begged. Your tears left damp spots on the wood, your knees trying to buckle inwards, but he planted his feet on the inside of yours, forcing you to stay upright.

“Good fucking girl,” he rasped, snaking a hand up your spine to grip your hair and pull your head back. “Doing so well for me, sweet thing.” He was panting, the heat of the greenhouse coupled with the exterior making sweat collect around his hairline and drip down his spine. His knuckles burned from the salt, hands ached from being used long past when they should have been bandaged, but he didn't give a single fuck.

“Draco, shit—fuck me so good.” You reached back for him, nails dragging along his forearm, and he felt himself teeter on the edge of release, his balls drawing up tight as liquid heat spread through his pelvis.

“Give me one more, baby. I know you can. Then I'll water my favorite plant.”

Your pussy clenched at his words, a wanton moan falling from your lips, and he smiled. You were such a little freak, his little freak, and he loved you all the more it.

“You like being my pretty little houseplant? All mine to take care of?” Fuck, he was close, rambling in an attempt to distract himself and spend just a little longer in the delicious heat of your body.

“Yes, yes—fuck!” You were coming again, your whole body convusling as it ripped through you, and he was done for. He came with a yell, hips stuttering against your ass as he pumped rope after rope of release into your spasming cunt.

“Bloody hell, baby,” he moaned, bracing his hands on the table as he came down, his hips involuntarily rocking into your greedy warmth. You, poor thing, were left drooling and trembling, completely boneless, held up entirely by the table and his hips. He leaned forward, pressing kisses into your hair. “Did so good, love. So fucking perfect,” he murmured, throat tight with affection.

“Squishin’ me,” you giggled, squirming beneath him, and he straightened, nearly toppling over himself at the weak feeling in his knees.

“Sorry, darling,” he chuckled, and you groaned, pushing yourself up on trembling arms. He moved his feet, letting you close your legs, and he hissed through his teeth at the new tightness around his softening cock, stealing a final thrust before slipping out of you.

“Mm, how did you know he called me sweetheart?” You asked, peeking over your shoulder at him while he grabbed his wand to clean you both up.

“I have my methods,” he replied, righting your clothes and helping you stand up, relishing in the lingering tremble in your limbs.

“Were you spying on me, Draco Malfoy?” You teased, tugging him down by the tie so you were face to face.

He smirked. “Perhaps.”

“What a horrible invasion of privacy,” you snickered, giving him a playful peck.

“You want to punish me for it?” He nipped at your lower lip and you grinned, pushing lightly on his chest.

“Enough you, I have to administer the antidote before my plant gets any sicker.”

“Good thing I already cured mine,” he teased, and you swatted him before slipping out of his arms.

“You're insufferable.”

“And you're adorable.”

You grabbed some items from the shelves and a watering can, then paused, turning to look at him, a deadly serious look on your face. “Can we get takeaway after this?”

He snorted, his heart doing a giddy little flip. “Of course we can.”

This. I . Need.

( SLEEPY I LOVE YOU'S )

you were laying next to rafe, snuggled under the covers in the bed you both shared since he started sleeping at your apartment.

it was three o'clock in the morning. you should've been in a deep slumber by now, but it was rare for him to have fallen asleep before you.

he was snoring softly, mouth slightly open as you took this time to admire him.

the seemingly permanent worry lines on rafe's tanned face. how his soft skin was marked with barely noticeable scars. the way frowned in his sleep like his dreams were anything but sweet.

moonlight was pouring in from a small gap in the curtains hanging up at your bedroom window, illuminating his face in a way that made him look angelic.

reaching forward, you grazed your fingers as delicately as you could against his cheek so you didn't wake him.

your mind drifted off, enjoying the sweet moment that you you were caught in.

suddenly, rafe opened his eyes and you wasted no time in snatching your hand away from his face.

"eye fucking me while i'm asleep, angel? sexy" he croaked, voice heavy with sleep.

he never missed a single thing. you couldn't get away with doing anything cute, even when he was unconscious.

"thought you were asleep" you mumbled, face warming in something close to embarrassment.

rafe smirked smugly, knowing he had you caught. his eyes quickly started to flutter closed once again as sleep pulled him back under.

"love you" he mumbled incoherently, wrapping his big arm around your waist as he pulled you closer to him, his face buried in your neck.

rafe just told you that he loved you. he had never said that before.

you stayed quiet as his breathing evened out, not knowing what to say because you didn't expect that in the slightest.

his hot breath was against your neck, cuddling into you as he was lulled back to sleep.

"i love you too" you whispered in rafe's ear, not caring at all if it woke him up.

your eyes started fall closed, your body feeling heavy with sleep. you caught the smile that flashed on his face as you both faded away.

i think i wanna ride it until you cum inside me

Spit on meeee

rafe when he finds out sugar isn’t wearing any panties…

https://x.com/kinulta/status/1884711766644711586

p!link

when rafe realized you weren’t wearing panties, he didn’t hesitate tossing you onto his bed. “rafe!” you squealed, your skirt bunching higher around your plush thighs. “don’t act surprised, sweetness. you knew what you were doing when you came over here with no panties,” he snickered. your cheeks heated, knowing he was right.

“you just wanted daddy’s cock, huh?” he teased, not missing the way you pressed your thighs together. you bat your lashes, nodding up at him as he approached you. he leaned down to plant a soft kiss to your lips, “turn over, sugar.”

you rolled over, your heart racing in anticipation as rafe shoved his pants down, kicking them aside. he climbed on top of you, mounting your legs and flipping your skirt up. you jolted when you felt his spit dripping down your puffy lips.

rafe guided the head of his cock to your entrance, spreading his spit along your slick folds. you gasp, your eyes rolling back as his thick cock slowly sinks into your cunt, his pelvis flush against your ass. he squeezes the globes of your ass, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrusts. you moan, your body moving up the mattress from his harsh thrusts. “fuck…look at this fat little ass,” rafe groans, watching your ass bounce.

“no…don’t stop,” you whined when he pulled out, teasingly slapping his heavy cock against the fat of your ass. you reached behind you, guiding his length back inside you. “so needy…is this what you wanted, sugar? wanted daddy’s cock to fill this tight little cunt?”

Casual displays of dominance in public🤤🤤 like yes please grab my thigh while i’m sitting next to you and keep rubbing in circles so there’s no way i can forget it’s there, YES grab me by the hips or waist at any point bc you just want to feel me or because im just too cute and you have to keep a hold on me😣😣 pls ask me what i want at restaurants and order for me without me asking..idc im yours all yours to do whatever you want with just PLEASE touch me and give me ur attention 24/7

🤤

Someone Who Needs Me | Older!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Eddie’s been working really hard and you want to show him how much you appreciate everything he does.

WC: ~1.6k

Warnings: fluff, smut, age gap (Eddie’s in 40s and R’s in 20s), mixed POV, possessive!Eddie, sexist co-workers, swearing, mention of piv sex, one teasing use of “daddy”, brief oral m!receiving. Not much plot these guys are just in love and horny for each other idk 18+ ONLY MDNI

This is a second part to Sweet Like Sugar

When you walked into the kitchen and saw Eddie’s lunch box still sitting on the counter, you sighed and gave a fond shake of your head.

Poor, Eddie.

Between picking up extra hours at the garage and working to repair your water-damaged trailer, he’d been trying to burn the candle at both ends and as a result was starting to get a little forgetful.

A few days earlier you’d found his wallet tucked behind the celery in the fridge, and he kept misplacing his rings and the keys to his car.

He laughed it off by saying it was just his “old age” finally catching up to him, but you knew the truth was that he was pushing himself too hard.

You were staying with Eddie until he could get your trailer back into livable condition, but he was in no rush to finish — he liked having you around. The man who, for years, had relished in his solitude now found himself hooked on domestic bliss and the truth was, he never wanted to be alone again.

He loved seeing your pretty face every evening when he got home from his shift at the garage — even though the days were long, your sweet kisses kept him going.

He loved the sound of your voice, the light in your eyes and the soft perfume that you wore; how your scent filled his home and lingered in his sheets. Every morning when he pulled your warm body close in the early hours before dawn, he wondered to himself how he’d ended up with an angel like you.

And now that you were his, he never wanted to let you go.

As soon as your trailer was repaired, he planned to suggest that you put it up for sale and move into his place with him for good. He knew it was fast, but at his age he didn’t see the point in playing games — he just hoped his intentions wouldn’t scare you away.

He needn’t have been worried. You were all in.

Living with Eddie was the first time in your life you had ever felt truly safe and appreciated, and you couldn’t imagine going back to dating the immature guys your age. None of them could ever hold a candle to Eddie — they couldn’t even hold a match. He was the man of your dreams and took such good care of you.

You had an appointment that afternoon across town so you decided to leave a little early and drop Eddie’s lunch off at the garage on your way. It wasn’t much, but it was the least you could do to show him that you cared.

In your eyes, he deserved to be treated like a king.

When you pulled up outside the garage, you felt a little thrill of excitement. You loved visiting Eddie at work.

He always looked so good with his silver-flecked curls tied back and his big hands darkened with grease — for some reason the scent of motor oil on his skin really got you going.

As you walked into the garage you were greeted by a chorus of hoots and whistles courtesy of the mechanics eyeing you in your daisy dukes. You just rolled your eyes and ignored their stares as you looked around for Eddie, but you didn’t spot your boyfriend right away.

“Hey Ed, yer girl’s here,” someone hollered and Eddie rolled out from under a car, then sat up on the creeper and grabbed a rag to wipe his hands.

He’d tied a bandana around his head to keep loose strands of hair out of his face, and he looked so good that it made your stomach flutter.

“You forgot your lunch, so I thought I’d bring it by,” you said as he took the tin from your hands, then gave you a shy dimpled grin before his eyes dipped to the floor.

He still wasn’t used to having someone worry over him, and at times it left him feeling a little flustered.

“I swear I’d forget my fuckin’ head. Thanks sweetheart, you’re so good to me.”

He leaned in to kiss you on the cheek and your face started to get warm. Even after being together for months he always had the same effect on you, and you had to suppress the overwhelming urge to jump him in his greasy coveralls.

“It’s the least I can do. You work so hard.” You grabbed the material at his waist and pulled him close so you could press your glossy lips to his. You parted your mouth as you tilted your head, forgetting where you were for just a second and letting the kiss linger a bit too long for in public.

But Eddie didn’t care who was watching.

He grabbed ahold of your hips and squeezed them tight as he leaned into the embrace, letting his tongue caress yours and groaning against your lips. He wasn’t oblivious. He’d heard the obnoxious whistles and catcalls from before and had no qualms about showing those guys that you were his.

He could feel himself getting hard and wondered if maybe you’d be up for a quickie outside in his car that was parked in its usual secluded spot behind the garage. You’d visited a few times before on his lunch breaks, bouncing on his dick in the crowded backseat while he buried his face in your cleavage and sucked on your perfect tits.

But you pulled away a few seconds later and busied yourself with straightening his collar, derailing his horny train of thought.

“I’d better get going or I’ll be late for my appointment,” you said, giving him a little wink. “I’m heading over to the spa this afternoon for the usual.”

“Yeah?” He gave you a playful raise of his eyebrows and his cheeks flushed a little pink as he leaned in close so no one else could hear. “You need some money? Maybe get them to do that thing I like?”

Eddie loved it when you got your bush waxed in the shape of a landing strip just like the girls in the porno mags he used to read as a younger man. He also loved any opportunity he could find to spoil you.

You held out an upturned palm and he immediately dropped his gaze to the long, painted nails that gripped his shoulders every night in bed; those sharp pink tips that dug so deliciously into the soft flesh of his ass when he was buried inside you, urging him even deeper.

He walked over to where his jacket was hung on its hook and took a couple twenties out of the pocket, then handed them to you along with a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you, daddy,” you whispered quiet enough that only he could hear, and his cock twitched at the sound of the name that was meant for just for the two of you.

“Shit—baby, you can’t just say that here,” he stumbled as your glossy lips curled into a sly smile.

“Oops, sorry.” You shrugged, feigning innocence as you turned to walk away. “I’ll see you at home later, okay?”

One of the guys let out another low whistle as you swayed your hips on the walk back to your car and you smiled to yourself when you overheard Eddie’s gruff final warning.

“You’d better watch yourself, Derek.”

It was Friday evening, so when quitting time rolled around the guys asked Eddie if he wanted to join them at the bar, but he said no. He knew you were waiting for him at home.

The men all jeered and got their digs in about how Eddie was pussy whipped, but he didn’t give a shit. He knew they’d give anything for a chance to go home to you.

When he walked up the creaky steps to the trailer, he could hear the faint sound of you singing in the kitchen and when he opened the door he was met with the pleasant aroma of the food you had prepared.

He sat down at the kitchen table to untie his boots and you walked over to greet him, wearing his favorite frilly apron and a smile.

“Smells good in here, whatcha cooking?” He stood up and gave you a teasing wink. “You know if you keep this up, you’re going to spoil me.”

“I’m making your favorite,” you purred, stepping close and running your newly manicured nails down his coverall covered chest. “Why don’t you go get showered while I finish up?”

“Good idea. I’m so fuckin’ stiff, I can barely move.” He grimaced as he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

You furrowed your brow at the way he groaned with each bend of his aching muscles. He’d been working much too hard.

“Do you need me to help?” you offered sweetly, your wide eyes brimming with concern. “Dinner’s pretty much finished. I can just keep it warm.”

He nodded and a lazy smile stretched across his face as he watched you reach behind your back to pull loose the bow in your cute little apron.

“Yeah, baby. I’m gonna need some help.”

And you helped him, down on your knees under the warm running water, your fresh nails gripping his muscular thighs as he rested his back against the tile shower wall.

His breath came out ragged as he carded a hand through wet curls to push them out of his face, while using his other hand to guide your head up and down his slick cock.

“So fuckin’ good for me,” he mumbled, the soft praise spilling from his lips as he gazed down at you with naked adoration.

And you were. Such a good fucking girl.

Thank you for reading! 💕

A/N: I have another little part to this where reader sells her trailer and Eddie doesn’t like their new neighbor 👀

Taglist Lovelies 🏷️ : @mrsjellymunson @hippiegoth97 @princesssunderworld @madelynraemunson

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Dominant Wally fucks me up.

SKINNY DIPPING pt. 2 ✩ Wally Clark

Pairings: Wally Clark x Fem!reader

Warnings: +18 SMUT MINORS DNI. very slow burn. semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, teasing, heavy sexual tension, explicit dirty talk, praising, degradation, skinny dipping in a public pool, possesiveness/jealousy, light choking, rough gripping & mandhandling, overstimulation, wally being a cocky little shit and very possessive, kinda dom!wally, risk of getting caught, begging, breeding kink. wally whimpering???? (god have mercy)

Summary: For what feels like an eternity, Y/n and Wally have been nothing more than just friends. but that changes one reckless night when they decide to cross skinny dipping off their "100 things to do before crossing over" bucket list. Teasing and meaningless flirting turn heated, and the tension that has been simmering between them finally snaps. Under the moonlit water, boundaries blur, and their friendship is completely wrecked, in the best possible way.

Author's note: this is part 2!! Part 1 is linked below <3 And part 3 soon! I had to take a moment to breath and relax while writing this cause hello????? god jesus have mercy I'm literally gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. Also, thank you so much for the love on part 1!! it made me soooo happy to see you guys liked it <3333 it means the world to me!

Word count: 4043

Song choices: lose control - teddy swims, tear you apart - she wants revenge, closer - nine inch nails, flawless - the neighbourhood, do i wanna know? - arctic monkeys, TiO - zayn, again - noah cyrus.

masterlist. part 1. part 2. part 3

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"So...Skinny dipping?" his lips brushed against your ear, his voice now a low whisper.

"Skinny dipping," you repeated, lips curving into a playful grin. "Just don't get all excited to see me naked, Clark," you teased, pushing him lightly. "And hands to yourself," you added.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes darkening a little. He couldn't help but smirk as well. He was excited at the thought of seeing you like that.

"I make no promises," he replied with a teasing grin, his raspy voice sending shivers down your spine.

"I mean it, Clark," you huffed, rolling your eyes, though the warmth you felt bubbling up inside you betrayed the annoyance you were trying to fake.

He leaned in again, his face mere inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Can you blame me, though?" his voice dipped lower, rougher, almost a whisper. "You look so damn pretty, I can't help but flirt a little."

Your pulse quickened, but you refused to let him notice it. You pushed him back again, keeping the smirk on your lips. "Yeah, yeah," you drawled, tilting your head. "Am I the first girl you've ever said this to? Or the fourth? Or ninetieth?"

He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. The truth was, Wally had a certain reputation, and everyone knew it. His charming smiles, teasing grins, and how he made girls feel like they were the center of his world… He never meant any of it. None of the girls he flirted with ever came close to you, to how you made him feel.

He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. His gaze held yours, unwavering.

"None of those girls were you," he said quietly. "And none of them meant anything to me."

With a dramatic sigh, you place your hand over your forehead, pretending to swoon. "Oh, Wally! How you make my heart race!"

His laugh was loud, unrestrained, the kind of laugh that made your stomach flip every single time you heard it. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he nudged you in the stomach. "Oh, shut up," he said, grinning. "You're such a dork, you know that?"

"And you love it," you shot back, tilting your chin up in defiance.

Wally didn't answer immediately. Instead, his smirk faded slightly, and it made your chest feel too tight. He took a step closer again.

"Yeah," he admitted, voice just above a whisper. "I do."

The teasing had completely vanished now. Your throat suddenly felt dry, your pulse hammering in your ears. Something in his eyes told you that he wasn't playing anymore.

Your mouth opened, but before you could say anything, he lifted a hand, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered just a second too long, his touch light, but it managed to burn right through you.

He knew exactly what he was doing. The way he spoke, the way his gaze bore into you, the slight grin on his lips—it was all too deliberate, too calculated, and it made your pulse quicken. His eyes didn't lie, it was pure desire that clouded them and his judgment too. Wally had always been a flirt with everyone, and you were no exception. There had always been playful and flirty banter between you, but it was nothing more than a game. Nothing more than playful teasing. This? This felt different, it felt real. Lines were getting blurry, and your body was reacting in a way you never thought possible.

"You're trouble, you know that?" he murmured, his thumb grazing your jaw.

Your breath hitched. "Takes one to know one," you whispered back.

His eyes darkened, and for a second, you thought he was going to close the distance between you completely. Your heart slammed against your ribs, anticipation running through every nerve in your body.

With a smooth, effortless motion, Wally pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside like it was nothing. He knew you were watching him, and you did. You watched him, you couldn't tear your eyes away, hypnotized by his every movement, by the way the moonlight caressed his skin, his body gleaming under the soft light. You had seen him shirtless plenty of times before–he loved to work out and flaunt what he'd earned. But tonight? Tonight felt so much different. 

Your heart skipped a beat as you let your gaze travel down his chest, the way his abs tightened as he took off his shorts, kicking them aside, leaving only his boxers on. "You coming?" his voice was casual. But the way his eyes roamed over you, the way his smirk depended as he noticed the way you couldn’t keep your eyes off him, it was anything but innocent. "Go ahead," he added, nodding toward the water. "Get in first. I'll be right behind you."

You folded your arms over your chest, tilting your head as you arched a brow. "Oh, I see what you're doing," you mused, propping yourself on your hip. "You want me to strip first so you can get a show, huh?"

Wally's grin became bigger, shameless, and cocky. "And if I do?" he murmured.

"Then that makes you predictable," you shot back, tilting your head trying to feign disinterest.

His smirk didn't waver. If anything, it grew bolder. "Or just a man with very good taste," he countered smoothly, stepping closer. "But, hey, if you're too shy—"

Before he could finish, you grabbed the hem of your white shirt and pulled it over your head, letting it drop carelessly onto the ground. His smirk vanished. It was only for a second, but you saw it, the way his throat bobbed, the way his gaze dropped, drinking every inch of you. Satisfaction curled in your stomach.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. That cocky smirk? Gone. Replaced by something you couldn't quite place, something darker, deeper. Something raw.

You stepped toward the pool, your back to him, deliberately ignoring his presence, pretending you didn't feel the heat of his gaze burning into you. "You were saying?" you teased, sliding your skirt down inch by inch, slowly, letting it slip past your thighs and pool at your feet before stepping out of it. "What was that about me being too shy?"

A smirk tugged at your lips as you tilted your head just enough to catch a glimpse of him over your shoulder. Victory. He wasn't smirking anymore—his mouth slightly parted, eyes darker, stance tense like he was barely holding himself together. You had him right where you wanted him.

But you weren't done. If he wanted a show, he was gonna get one.

Keeping your gaze locked on his, you let your hands drift behind your back, fingers working the clasp of your lace bra with infuriating slowness. You could see the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling faster.

The straps slid down your shoulders, the cool night air hitting your skin, making your nipples harden instantly. And still, you watched him, letting his gaze devour you. Letting the bra drop, you let yourself bask in the way his pupils dilated, the way his hands clenched, every single vein and muscle in his arms tensing like he was fighting every instinct to move towards you and touch you.

And he was. God, he was fighting it, hard. Every demon inside him was telling him to grab you, to pull you close to him, to feel your skin against his, to claim you.

With a wicked grin, you toyed with the waistband of your lace black underwear, sliding it down, teasing him slowly. "Cat got your tongue, Clark?" you chuckled. Before he could answer, you turned your head and slipped into the pool.

When you submerged in the water, disappearing from his view, he let out a sharp exhale, the sound more like a whimper. As you resurfaced, he could've sworn he stopped breathing. You were everything he had ever wanted, and to see you there, bare, wet, and exposed? It was almost too much for him to handle.

His hands clenched into fists, his entire body trembling with the effort to restrain himself. His gaze didn't waver—it never left your body, exploring every inch of you.

You looked mesmerizing, the way the moonlight made your wet skin glow underneath it. He was desperate to touch you, to run his hands over your perfectly soft skin.

You ran your hands over your wet, slicked-back hair, your gaze on him. Wally stood there, frozen, eyes dark and fixed on you.

It was intoxicating, the power you had over him.

"What happened to all that smooth talk, Clark?" you teased, tilting your head, a playful smirk on your lips. "You suddenly forgot how to speak?"

That did it.

Wally's jaw locked, his hands clenched at his sides like he was physically restraining himself. For a second, you thought he might actually fight it—might crack a joke, roll his eyes, brush it off like he always did, return to his usual cocky self.

But then, without hesitation, he shoved his boxers down and kicked them aside. His eyes never leaving yours.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He stood before you, the hard lines of his body tense with restraint, every muscle in his stomach flexing as he fought for control. And then there was the unmistakable evidence of his arousal, thick and hard, a blatant display of everything he wanted—everything he wanted from you.

A shiver went down your spine, heat pooling in your stomach as your eyes slowly flickered up to his.

He didn't say a word. He just stepped forward, smoothly, deliberately, like a predator hunting its prey, before dipping into the pool. The water rippled as he disappeared beneath the surface. And then, he surged back up, breaking through the water right in front of you, so close that droplets splashed on your face, so close that his lips nearly brushed yours as he exhaled a deep, slow breath.

You inhaled sharply, instinctively swimming back, but his hands were already on your waist, locking you in place. Holding you right there, right where he wanted.

“What happened to all that smooth talk, sweetheart?" he repeated your exact words, the term of endearment making your stomach flip. His voice low, almost teasing. "You suddenly forgot how to speak?"

Your pulse hammered against your ribs. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to smirk even as every nerve in your body buzzed with anticipation. This was dangerous, you knew it, and he did too.

But neither of you seemed to care.

"You think you're real cute, don't you?" his voice was low and rough, every word seemed to vibrate through your chest as his lips hovered just above yours, his breath warm against your skin. His voice made your knees weak.

You grinned, hands sliding up his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. "I don't think," you whispered. "I know."

A low growl rumbled in his throat. And suddenly, you weren't smirking anymore. There wasn't a single hint of playfulness in his eyes. They were filled with pure and raw heat. Dangerous, Hungry. His grip tightened, pulling you flush against him. Beneath the water, skin met skin, heat against heat. It was undeniable now, impossible to ignore, impossible to run away from. Everything you tried to ignore, every line you'd both tried so hard not to cross.

Everything was collapsing in on itself.

This was happening.

This was real.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me." His voice was thick with frustration, like he was holding back every ounce of self-control. Every inch of him trembled beneath your hands, his chest rising and falling too fast, his fingers digging into your waist. The struggle was written all over his face. He wanted you. You could see it. Feel it. He was trying so hard to hold back.

And God, he wanted to. You could feel it in the way his body tensed against yours, in the way his jaw clenched, in the way his lips hovered right there, barely an inch away, like he was dying to close the distance. Dying to taste you.

You inhaled sharply, your heart slamming against your ribs. What the hell were you doing?

Stripping in front of him? Letting him see you like this, bare and exposed? Teasing him? Knowing exactly what it would do to him?

It wasn't like you at all.

It wasn't like either of you.

This wasn't the playful banter you'd always shared. It never got further than simple jokes and meaningless teasing. This? This was territory neither of you had ever ventured into. There was a thin, fragile line. You wanted to cross it. You needed to. But the fear... the fear of losing everything you had—the fear of losing him—kept you hanging on, just barely.

Wally swallowed hard, his fingers tracing slow, agonizing patterns against your skin. "You're dangerous," he whispered again, lower this time, rougher, as if the words were ripped straight from his chest. His hands tightened against your hips beneath the water, his eyes locked onto yours, searching for hesitation—begging for it, for a reason to stop.

But there was none.

The words slipped out of your mouth before you could even think. "Am I?"

His breath caught a subtle tremor in his jaw. "Don't tease me," he growled. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

But you did.

And so did he.

His forehead dipped to yours, his breathing uneven. Your hands slid up, curling around the back of his neck, fingers threading through his wet hair. His eyes squeezed shut like he was trying—really trying—to fight it.

But there was nothing left to fight.

You’d both lost this battle a long time ago.

"You know this changes everything," he whispered, his voice raw, breaking over the words. His thumb brushed your skin, so painfully slow, like he was memorizing you, like he was savoring this moment.

Your chest tightened. You knew he was right. You knew this was it—the point of no return.

But it was too late for second thoughts.

Your lips parted, breath shaking. His eyes darkened at the sight of your open mouth, the sounds of your shaky breath making his pulse quicken. He was undone. Completely undone. All his hesitation, his willpower, his good intentions. Gone. He was drowning in you.

"Maybe it should," you whispered.

A sharp inhale. His hands gripped you tighter, and his forehead dropped fully against yours. "You have no idea what you're saying."

You let out a soft, breathless laugh. "Oh, I think I do."

His head lifted just enough for your eyes to lock, his pupils blown wide, lips slightly parted. His mouth was right there. Just a little more...

"You don't fucking get it," he rasped, his hands sliding up, thumbs brushing the underside of your ribs. "If we do this—if I kiss you—I won’t be able to stop. I won’t be able to just pretend it didn’t happen. You know that, don’t you?”

Your pulse slammed in your throat, and you nodded, barely breathing.

His fingers traced slow, lazy circles against your skin, like he was trying to soothe himself, trying to keep his composure. But you could feel it—the tension radiating off him, the heat rolling off his body even beneath the water.

"What if I don't want you to stop?" you whispered.

His eyes darkened, the grip on your waist tightening, pressing into your skin, making you groan. You were sure he was going to leave bruises, but you didn’t care. 

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking as he sucked in a sharp breath through his nose. "You think this is a fucking game?"

“A little," you replied, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.

Wally let out a strained, bitter chuckle, but there was no humor in his eyes. No playfulness was left in the smile that painted his face. “You wanna keep playing?” he murmured, his voice rough, teasing, but there was an edge to it now, something deeper, dangerous. “Because I can play, sweetheart. But you better be ready for what happens when I stop holding back. When I stop pretending, we can go back to how things were. When I stop fucking pretending we're just friends.”

With a growl, he pushed you through the water until your back hit the edge of the pool. The impact and the feeling of the cold tiles sent a sharp shiver down your spine, making you gasp. The way he mandhandled you with such ease, his grip so possessive, the way his body caged you in completely, it made your head spin. 

His lips brushed yours—just barely. But it was enough to make your fingers clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, like he was the only thing keeping you standing.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered against your lips, pleading. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

You should say it. You should push him away, laugh it off, pretend like this was just another game, another moment of playful teasing between best friends who had spent years toeing the line.

But you didn’t.

Because you couldn’t.

Instead, your fingers crept up his neck, nails tracing the hard line of his jaw, tightening in his wet hair, pulling him closer, your body pressing against his beneath the water. You felt the way his breath stuttered, the way his fingers dug into your ribs, his thumb caressing your breasts, like he was barely hanging on.

Your lips brushed against his as you whispered, “I dare you.”

A sharp inhale. His hands tightened. "Don't," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "I swear, if you keep looking at me like that—"

"Like what?" you interrupted, faking innocence as your fingers trailed down his chest, nails scraping over his hard muscles.

His breath left him in a shaky exhale. "Like you want this."

Your lips curled. "Who says I don't?"

A low groan rumbled from his chest, his restraint hanging by a thread. His hands slid down slowly, gripping, teasing, like he was testing himself—testing you. “You don’t get it.”

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I do," you whispered, your mouth just barely on his, so close he could feel your words on his skin. "You're the one who doesn't."

His jaw ticked. "Don't push me," he warned, his voice a painful growl. 

You tilted your head, dragging your nose against his. "Why? Afraid you'll give in?"

"Afraid I won't be able to stop."

A wicked smile danced on your lips as you leaned in, your mouth grazing the corner of his. Not a kiss—just a taste. "You know what I think?” you murmured, your teeth just barely scraping against his lips, leaving the most devastating kiss there. “I think you’ve thought about this. A lot.”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” you taunted him, your voice nothing but a breath, a challenge, a plea. "Just tell me I'm wrong, and we'll stop, we'll forget any of this happened, we'll just—"

His patience snapped.

His hands slid down your waist, gripping your thighs before he hoisted you up, forcing your legs to wrap around him. A choked gasp escaped your lips as you felt all of him, thick and hard, pressing right against your soaked core. A groan tore from his throat, guttural and desperate, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, bruising you. 

“Fuck,” he whimpered. “You keep grinding on me like that and I fucking swear–” His words cut off into a sharp inhale as you grinded against him again. 

You rolled your hips against him, dragging your slick heat over the hard ridge of his cock, and his entire body tensed.  

A sharp, wrecked groan tore from his throat, his grip turning bruising as he slammed your body harder against the cool tile. His mouth was on you in an instant—biting, licking, claiming—his teeth scraping your jaw, his tongue lapping at the spot he just marked, soothing it just to do it all over again. 

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped. 

You swallowed hard. The words were right there, on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say them.

Stop.

No, you wouldn’t. You didn’t want him to stop. You wanted him to keep going, to touch you right where you needed him the most, to make you his, to claim you, to possess you. You wanted to feel his lips on yours, on your entire body. You needed this, the release–you needed him. 

“Say. It.” His groan was raw, wrecked. His hands ghosted up your thighs, slow, teasing, so agonizingly close to where you needed them. “Tell me to fucking stop.”

You stayed silent. 

His lips curled into a dark smirk. “That’s what I fucking thought.”

His hands flexed, gripping your thighs tighter, dragging your hips flush against him, grinding against your core so hard and deep it made your breath catch.

“Fuck, you feel that?" he groaned, his voice rough dripping with need. "Feel how hard you make me? You did that, sweetheart. You."

His lips brushed your jaw, teasing, before his teeth sank into your skin—not enough to hurt, but enough to make you whimper. His tongue soothed the spot, only to bite again, harder this time.

"You don't think I've noticed? The way your eyes are on me when you think I'm not watching? The way your whole body reacts to me?"

His fingers dug into your hips, hard, making you gasp, dragging your body against him once more, letting you feel every single inch of how much he wanted you.

Fuck.

"You've been playing a dangerous game, baby," he growled. "Playing dumb, acting like all those little teases, all those flirty smiles, all those times you touched me without meaning to—like they didn't mean anything."

A dark chuckle rumbled from his chest.

"But we both know that's not true, don't we?" His grip became stronger by the minute, his fingers slithering lower, teasing the edge of your stomach, dancing along your skin with agonizing precision. He knew what he was fucking doing, he wanted to drive you insane, the same way you drove him to the brink of insanty.

"You know it's not true. Deep down, you always knew exactly what you've been doing to me."

And he was right.

Every glance, every touch, every smile, every almost—you’d been testing him, taunting him. Watching, waiting, wondering how far you could push before he snapped.

And now? He was breaking apart.

His fingers inched lower, making your entire body arch against him, desperate, aching, starving for more.

Please, please, please.

A gasp tore from your throat as his fingers finally found your aching clit, pressing down in slow, agonizing cirles.

Oh, fuck.

Your head fell back against the cool tile, your breath coming out in ragged pants. This was different. He was different. This wasn't the Wally you were used to—your best friend, the sweet, flirty, cocky, Wally who loved teasing you just as much as you teased him.

This was someone else, a completely different version of him you'd never seen before. Dangerous.

"I think you know how much I fucking want you," he groaned, his forehead pressed against yours, his eyes dark, desperate, completely feral with need. "And you've been pretending you don't feel it, too."

You swallowed hard, but no words would come out. What could you say? That he was wrong? That this was just another game?

It wasn't. Not anymore.

You'd crossed every line, and there was no going back.

Your entire body trembled as his fingers moved harder, faster, making your entire world narrow to the feeling of his fingers against your aching core.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, your breath coming in gasps, but you didn’t answer.

You couldn’t. Not when you were falling apart in his hands.

Not when you felt so good pressed against him.

So fucking good.

"And now, baby?" His tongue brushed over your lips, slowly. "Now you're gonna find out exactly what happens when you push me too fucking far."

Eyes On Me, Sweets.

NSFW!!

Disclaimer--- I did not proof read this. Sorry... If you like it let me know and I will consider posting more! If you have prompts I would love to hear them! Much love! x -L

Summary: Maddie Nears shows up in the after life taking Wally's attention, the attention that is yours to have.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙

The second Maddie Nears showed up in the afterlife you were annoyed. It had nothing to do with her. You actually felt like the two of you could be really good friends. It was the fact that Wally’s attention was no longer attached to you. You saw how he looked at her when she entered the circle for Mr. Martin’s session of the day.

You were used to his chocolate eyes being stuck to your frame constantly. He might as well have been a shadow to you. You had liked Wally the moment he found you crying next to your dead body. He had became your ghost guide never leaving your side. Always throwing flirty comments your way. He was ecstatic when the adorable blush graced your freckled cheeks. The sarcastic roll of your eyes as you looked away from him trying to hide the smirk on your face.

You sat in the circle listening to Maddie talking about how she died and Rhonda’s snippy comments towards her. You were seething by the time group was finished. Not even letting Mr. Martin dismiss you before you were running out of the gym. You heard Wally calling after you telling you to wait up but you kept moving. You had never felt anything like this before. The gnawing feeling in your chest, the anger practically radiating off of you.

You needed air. You couldn’t be within these dingy walls another second. The only noise coming from you was the squeak of your boots against the tile and the faint hum of the song blasting through your headphones. You dug your nails into the palm of your hand as you willed your legs to carry you faster. You burst through the door out onto the lawn of the school finally feeling as though you could take a full breath. Your feet carried you to the side of the bleachers at Wally’s stadium tucking yourself into a small corner that hid you from view.

You sat there pick at the grass under you. Tearing the blades into tiny strands. Your mind whirling, a constant loop of self doubt and something you were pretty sure was jealousy. But why were you jealous? You didn’t think for a second the hunky jock could have ever actually liked you. You were total opposites. When you were alive you constantly had your headphones on so no one would talk to you. You had your septum pierced and only went to school sanctioned events to get pictures for yearbook. He could talk to anyone. He hadn’t met a person he couldn’t spark a conversation with. He didn’t miss a single event alive or dead.

Wally had tried to chase after you when you ran off but Charlie had grabbed him needing help putting all the chairs away. He as quickly as he could collapsed all the chairs hanging them back on the stand and excused himself. He went to all your typical hiding spots. Not that they were really hidden from him. He knew about all of them. He checked the theater where you would sit in the back corner tucked away between the chair and wall, the roof of the school where you’d sit when you needed silence, and the pool where he’d find you swimming around to clear your head. You weren’t in any of the usual spots but he had to know that you were okay. He searched every room in the school and once he finished that he started on the school grounds. He checked the bus bench and the football field. He was about to call in reinforcements when he heard the faint humming that soothed the anxiety in his chest.

You were always humming along to whatever song was playing. Wally was pretty sure it was something you did unknowingly. He found your crumpled frame tucked underneath the bleachers. You were making a pile of the grass blades that were resetting every few minutes. He crouched down gently nudging your boot with his sneaker. You didn’t look up at him keeping your eyes on your shoes. He wraps his large hand around your calf tugging you gently towards him until your bent legs are pushed against his abdomen. The warmth of him soaking through your ripped leggings comforting you, caging you in between his long legs.

He gently takes your headphones off your head and uses the tip of his pointer finger to lift your chin making you look at him. “What’s going on? Why’d you run off without me, Sweets?” He asks looking into your eyes.

“Don’t call me that.” You huff out at him trying to pull your chin from his grip. He tightens his hold looking at you with an eyebrow raised. “What’s got your brain running a hundred miles an hour, Baby?” His lips quirk up at the nickname turning his smirk into a full smile as the pink tinge covers your cheeks.

You anxiously pick at the skin on your lips with your teeth, his eyes tracing the soft curve of your lips. He gently pulls your lip from your teeth. “I asked a question. I want an answer, now.” His eyes darken.

“I just figured you’d be busy hanging out with the new girl. Didn’t wanna be a bother.” You shrug as you avert your gaze looking anywhere but at him. He leans in close enough to feel his breath on your lips. “Are you jealous, Baby?” His fingers twitching on the hand around your calf itching to somehow pull you closer. You scoff your cheeks bright red rolling your eyes at him.

“You just want all my attention don’t you?” You being to argue but he shushes you. “It’s yours, Sweets. I am yours.” He licks his lips rushing to kiss you with so much passion it make your head spin. “What do I need to do to make you realize that you are what I want in this life and the next?” He rasps against your mouth. He grabs your wrist pulling it to his hardened cock. “This is what you do to me. I have been touching myself to the thought of you since before you even crossed over. Cumming with your name on my lips."

You don't even know what to say as you look up at him through your lashes. The growl that crawls up his throat dampens your panties immediately. "Don't fucking look at me like that. I am barely holding on as it is." he pants out. His hand leaving yours to wrap back around your calf. You gently palm him, a pout gracing your lips. A raspy whisper leaves your lips as you look up at him. "What if I want you to show me just how much of your attention I have?" You grip his cock through his sweats giving it a squeeze.

He immediately pulls back standing to his feet and grabbing your hand pulling you into him. He tugs you with him toward the football field. He walks to the fifty yard line and shrugs off his letterman laying it out for you. He pushes you to lay down, your head resting on the smooth leather of his jacket. His smell engulfs you as he sinks to his knees between your open legs. He gently unties your boots tugging them off your feet and tossing them behind you. He places a delicate kiss to your ankles his hands slowly sliding up your calf to your thighs avoiding the area you need him. His hands rest on your covered hips as he leans over you kissing your lips roughly nipping at your bottom lip and soothing the pain with his tongue.

He trails his lips slowly down your neck bite and sucking at your skin as he goes. He looks up at you as his fingers go to pull your t-shirt over your head. You give him a nod. His fingers trailing up your soft stomach as he lifts it over your head. He sits back on his haunches to take in the exposed skin. His hands wandering, mouth watering at the lacy bra cupping your perfect tits.

He reaches around unclipping it with one hand and tugging the straps down your shoulders. His lips following the straps leaving goosebumps on your skin. Your nipples hardening as the cool air brushes against them. One hand settles back on to your hip while the other thumbs across your nipple pulling a whimper from your lips. His mouth latching on to other one sucking until he approves of the purple patch on the side of your breast. He swirls his tongue around your nipple sucking and nipping at it drawing whines from you. He drags his lips down your stomach kissing the skin above the waistband of your pants leaving you gasping for air.

He dips his long fingers into the waistband of your pants tugging them off your legs. He lowers himself to be even with your soaked pussy. He draws in a big breath a grown vibrating through him. He leans forward dragging his tongue over the wet patch. He leans back tugging your cute panties down and tucks them into the pocket of the letterman you are laying on. He puts your legs over his broad shoulders using his hands to spread you open. He stares at your soaked cunt mesmerized until your wiggle your hips with a whine. He smirks up at you. "Patience, Sweets. I have waited so long to taste this pretty pussy. I am gonna savor it." He leans in dragging his tongue over your clit swirling and flicking it until you tangle your hands in his hair. He holds your hips down as he trails his tongue from your pretty clit down to circle around where you need him the most.

"Pleeease." You whimper out not even knowing what you are begging for. You feel him smirk against you as he plunges his tongue inside you moaning at the sweet taste of you sending shockwaves through you. He continues fucking you with his tongue until he feels you tighten around him. He withdraws his tongue from your center causing you to tug at his hair trying to bring him back to you. You wiggle your hips pushing them up trying your all to get his mouth back on you until he delivers a sharp smack to your center causing a mix of a whine and a moan to fall from your lips, eyes shooting open.

You whine out "Why did you stop?" between breaths. He tugs his shirt over his head and starts shrugging off the rest of his clothes. He leans forward the tip of his cock resting against your cunt as he hovers over you. He wraps his hand around your throat squeezing, his pupils blown as he growls out "The only place you are allowed to cum is on my cock pretty girl."

You clench around nothing at his possessiveness. He uses the hand not holding your throat to smack the tip of his aching cock against your clit loving the pretty sounds leaving your mouth. He drags it down to your center "Eyes on me, Sweets." you look up at him. He smacks the inside of your thigh "I expect a response."

You stutter out a "Yes, Sir." He sinks into you inch by inch barely giving you time to adjust as he draws all the way out slamming back into you. A scream leaves your lips at the mix of pain and pleasure. Already so close to the edge you are writhing under him crying out.

"That's it sweets. You are gripping me so tight. Fuckkkk." his hips stutter, his grip around your throat tightening as he grabs your hand pushing you to play with your clit. "Show me how you make yourself cum, pretty girl." He continues his brutal place abusing the spongey spot inside you as you rub circles into your clit crying out at every thrust.

"Wallyyy i'm gonna cum." You whimper out as you spasm around his cock. "Go ahead baby show me how much you want me to fill this sweet cunt. Just let go." He grunts out. You scream his name as you tighten around him cumming. His hand leaves your throat as he pushes your limp hand away from your clit rubbing hard circles overstimulating you. He thrusts into you again moaning out "Y/N. Fuck taking me so well. Gonna fill you up." You feel his cum pumping into you as you desperately try and push his hand away from your clit. He grabs your face out of breath to kiss your swollen lips and gently pulls out of you loving the whimper that leaves you.

He leans back watching some cum dripping out of you. He gently pushes it back inside of you grabbing his shirt to clean you both off. He finds your panties and gently slides them back on and helps you put your arms through his letterman. And fuck when he leans back and takes in the view in nothing but his letterman jacket and his cum soaking through your panties he almost cums again right there.

He lets you rest while he gets redressed and then helps you get dressed putting his letterman back on you loving you in it. He picks you up not trusting your shaking legs to carry you. "Let's go get you some food and water, Sweets. I am not done with you quite yet." He smirks pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. You smile lazily up at him bleary eyes running over his face and your hand playing with his necklace.

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.

cop!rafe gives dumb!reader a warning (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

summary: officer cameron has had quite the uneventful night. he’s told to park on a quiet backroad to speed trap, but ends up making a stupid girl give him head instead of making her pay her ticket!

cw : smut, 18+, flirting, teasing, breast play, blowjob, reader is stupid and flirty, she’s a bad driver, lots of ‘like’

a/n : cop!rafe has a 70’s porn stache and that’s final! also i didn’t proof this very well sooooo sorry. also send me hc’s for cop!rafe and dumb!reader if you like them paired together!

officer cameron’s mouth opened wide as he yawned, rubbing his face with his hand. earlier that night he was called to bust a group of teenage delinquents that were t-p’ing their teachers’ home. ‘just go home, guys’ he told them, hands positioned at the top of his vest—and anticlimactically enough, they did, without much fuss.

his second dispatch of the night was at a run-down gas station just outside of town. the cashier, an older, frail-looking man had called 911 in hopes for the cops to detain the homeless man that was loitering out front. rafe explained to the clerk that he wasn’t able to arrest the homeless man because he wasn’t technically doing anything illegal.

“sir, in the state of north carolina its not illegal for him to sit outside a public building. unless you have a no loitering sign posted out front, which,” he glanced toward the two double, glass doors for a moment, “…it looks like you don’t have.” the older man gave him a glare and muttered, “ain’t no wonder why crime rates is goin’ up—they got pretty boys who don’ know nothin’ ‘bout anythin’…”

that was 2 hours ago.

rafe had been told to ‘speed trap’ on a dark, secluded backroad just north of town. he’s been sitting in his black suv for two hours doing absolutely nothing because no one comes down this road anymore. he was most-likely going to bust a couple of horny high-schoolers who parked on the side of the road to have sex—that’s probably about as entertaining as his night will get.

‘there’s jack shit goin’ on…’ he thought to himself before his tired eyes fluttered shut and the back of his head hit the seat. the soft singing voice on the radio was like a lullaby to his exhausted mind, as his breathing slowed and head began to droop to the side.

CLUNK!

the car jolted foward.

“what the fuck!—“ he shouted, his hand already gripping the handle of his door as he twisted around to look behind him. the red glow of his taillights illuminated the sleek, white bmw that had just plowed into the back of his suv. shoving the door open, he stepped out into the warm september air, his boots crunching against the gravel shoulder as he stomped toward the offending vehicle. he barely had time to process his frustration before he was knocking on the driver’s side window, his patience already worn thin.

“roll down your window.” his tone was sharp, authoritative—ready to chew out whatever dumbass had just rear-ended a cop car in the middle of an empty road. the window lowered with an soft-sounding hum, and rafe’s planned berate died on his tongue as he saw the woman behind the wheel.

big, glossy eyes blinked up at him, framed by your thick lashes. plush, overlined lips wobbled into a pout. long, perfectly curled hair cascaded over your bare shoulders, the strands catching the faint glow of his headlights like spun gold.

you were stunning.

you also looked like you were about to cry.

and the first words out of your mouth?

“omg, i think my car is broken?!” you squealed in a high, valley-girl like voice. rafe exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. it was clear to him that it was going to be a long night.

rafe stared at you, blinking slow like he needed a second to process what the hell he just heard. her car was broken? he resisted the urge to laugh. not because it was funny—because it was so damn stupid that it almost knocked the anger right out of him. almost.

his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as he tipped his head toward the crumpled front of your clearly expensive bmw. the left headlight was completely busted, shards of glass littering the pavement, and the front bumper had a nice little dent where it had kissed his suv.

“yeah,” rafe deadpanned, arms crossing over his broad chest. “that tends to happen when you slam into a parked car.” your plump lips parted in an exaggerated gasp, manicured fingers flying to your chest like he’d just accused you of murder.

“i did not slam into you mister,” you insisted, shaking your head, curls bouncing with the motion. “like—ugh! i barely tapped you. my car is literally so sensitive.” you flailed her hands toward the bmw, like it was some fragile piece of art instead of a luxury car you clearly couldn’t drive. “i barely even touched the gas, i swear.”

rafe’s patience was hanging on by a thread.

“you were going fast enough to knock my car forward,” he muttered, glancing back at his own vehicle, which had very much been affected by your little “tap.”

you didn’t acknowledge that. instead, you let out a dramatic sigh, you gaze flickering to him like you’d just now noticed he was wearing a police uniform.

“wait—are you, like, a cop-cop?” you voice was drenched in the kind of obliviousness that only came from never having to deal with consequences. you batted your thick lashes, glossy pink lips curving into something dangerously close to a smile. “oh my god, that’s so funny, i thought you were just, like… a guy in a police car.”

rafe shut his eyes for a second. breathed. counted to three.

it didn’t help.

“license and registration,” he gritted out, reaching for the notepad in his belt.

your face fell.

“wait, no.” you reached out, lightly slapping his forearm with both hands like you were scolding him. “you don’t have to do all that. i mean, look at me!” you gestured to yourself, blinking up at him with glassy, bambi-like eyes. “do i look like a criminal?”

rafe arched a brow. “you look like someone who just crashed into a cop car.” you huffed, crossing your arms in a pout, your cleavage very much on display in the low-cut, hot pink crop top you were barely wearing.

“this is actually, like, so sexist of you,” you announced, twisting a loose strand of your hair around your finger. “you’re totally, like… abusing your power or whatever. just because i’m, like, a girl, and i might’ve, like, barely hit you, you wanna give me a ticket?”

rafe had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

“license. and. registration,” he repeated, his voice low, firm.

you groaned, throwing your head back dramatically before shifting in your seat, digging through the mess of designer handbags, receipts, and random makeup products littering your passenger seat.

“ughhh, fiiiine. but, like, can i just say—this is actually so embarrassing for me right now?” you tossed a loose curl over your shoulder, sending him a look. “you’re, like, totally ruining my night.”

rafe exhaled a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “same to you, honey.”

officer cameron waited, watching as you dug through the mess in your passenger seat, tossing aside random receipts, lip gloss tubes, and what looked like a small, sparkly dog sweater.

he was this close to losing it.

finally, with a triumphant little gasp, you pulled out a thick booklet and shoved it toward him, flashing a proud, dead serious look.

“is this it?” you asked, nearly pouting.

rafe stared at the object in your hands.

the car manual.

he dragged a slow hand down his face. fuckin’ hell.

“no.” his voice was flat. so, so flat.

your perfect brows furrowed, lips pushing into a pout as you flipped the manual open, like you were actually about to prove him wrong.

“are you sure?” you flipped another page, scanning it with intense focus. “because, like, it totally has stuff about the car in it. like, see?” you turned the booklet toward him, pointing at a diagram of an engine. “that’s my engine.”

rafe let out a slow, controlled exhale through his nose.

“that’s the manual. i need the registration.”

you blinked up at him. “okay, well, what does that look like?”

his patience snapped. “you don’t know what a registration looks like, but you had this ready to go?” he tapped the thick booklet still clutched in your manicured hands.

you huffed, rolling her eyes. “well, yeah. it was, like, in the glove thingy. and it’s literally about my car, so—why wouldn’t that be it?”

rafe tipped his head back, staring at the sky like it might grant him the strength to deal with this girl.

you were still flipping through the damn manual, nodding like you’d just cracked a code. “oh! maybe it’s this part. it says ‘registration’ right here—”

he glanced down.

you were pointing at a section about registering the fucking bluetooth.

rafe actually laughed this time—a sharp, disbelieving sound as he braced both hands on the edge of your window, leaning in a little too close, his eyes burning into yours.

“you’re kidding,” he muttered. “you have to be kidding.”

you looked up at him, wide-eyed, genuinely confused. “why would I be kidding? i literally don’t joke about stuff like this.”

of course you didn’t.

rafe’s jaw ticked as he straightened up, rolling his shoulders back. this was a waste of time. he should’ve just written you up and sent you on your way—but something about you? it was entertaining. infuriating. and maybe, just maybe… kind of fun.

“move over,” he ordered.

you blinked. “huh?”

rafe gestured toward the passenger seat. “move. i’ll find it myself.”

your lips parted in outrage. “you can’t just, like, get in my car!”

he smirked, slow and lazy, hands braced on his belt. “i can when the driver is too incompetent to find her own registration.”

you gasped, offended. “did you just call me incompetent?”

“yeah, sweetheart.” he opened the door. “now, move.”

rafe barely had the door open before you huffed dramatically and shimmied over to the passenger seat, arms crossed tight over your chest. the movement made your light gray sweatpants ride low on your hips, the little rhinestone “JUICY” across the back catching the glow of his headlights. your hot pink crop top clung to you like a second skin, dipping low enough to keep rafe’s eyes very distracted—not that he’d ever admit it.

you popped your gum, blowing a big, obnoxious bubble before snapping it back between your teeth with a loud crack.

rafe clenched his jaw.

this girl was going to kill him.

sliding into the driver’s seat, he scanned the absolute disaster zone that was your car. the smell of vanilla body spray and expensive leather filled his nose as he shifted through the chaotic mess of designer bags, old coffee cups, and random beauty products littering the center console.

“fuck,” he muttered, pushing aside a half-empty bottle of baccarat rouge 540 like it was a crime scene. “you live in here?”

you gasped like he’d just insulted your entire bloodline.

“excuse me?” you whipped around in your seat, long hair spilling over your shoulder. “this is, like, so rude. my car is literally clean.”

rafe held up a crumpled chick-fil-a bag he’d just unearthed from under a louis vuitton tote.

you waved a dismissive hand, chewing your gum even louder. “okay, well, i got that, like, yesterday.”

he arched a brow. “so?”

“so, that means it doesn’t count.”

rafe exhaled through his nose, deciding not to engage in that particular brand of insanity.

instead, he yanked open the glovebox and—finally—there it was. the damn registration. crinkled, barely legible, but it was there.

he snatched it up, flashing it in your face like a trophy. “this. this is your registration.”

you blinked, blowing another big, dramatic bubble before snapping it again.

“okay, well, like, how was i supposed to know that? it literally looks like all the other papers.”

rafe let out a slow, painfully controlled breath, gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles went white.

with a sharp exhale, he exited your vehicle and stalked back toward his suv, pulling the driver’s side door open with more force than necessary. sliding into his seat, he braced his elbows on the center console, rubbing a hand down his face before flipping open his ticket book. the dim glow from his dashboard illuminated the small slip of paper in his hand as he scribbled down your information. his pen scratched against the ticket book, each stroke slow and deliberate—not because he needed extra time, but because he knew you were waiting.

and you were impatient.

he could see you through the rearview mirror, still sitting pretty in your tiny pink crop top, tapping your long, manicured nails against the steering wheel. every few seconds, you’d huff, shifting in your seat, chewing your gum obnoxiously loud.

rafe smirked.

you were so fucking bratty.

finally, he tore the ticket from the book with a slow rip, taking his time as he slid out of his car and made his way back to your open car door.

you immediately perked up, your big doe eyes locking onto him as he leaned down, leaving his right hand on the top of your car.

“ugh, finally,” you groaned, flipping your hair over your shoulder. “i thought i was gonna like, die of boredom.”

rafe chuckled, shaking his head. “tragic,” he murmured, then held out the ticket. “here. make sure your daddy’s card doesn’t decline.”

you snatched it from his hand, rolling your eyes—but when you looked down at the amount, your jaw dropped.

“wait—WHAT?!” you screeched, shaking the paper in his face. “you’re, like, literally joking. there is no way you’re charging me this much!”

rafe just smirked, leaning in closer.

“speeding, reckless driving, and hitting a cop car?” his voice was low, smug. “sounds about right.”

you huffed, your nails scraping against the paper as you dramatically threw your head back. “ugh! this is sooo unfair!”

then, suddenly, you paused. your lips pursed, eyebrows furrowing—and rafe could see it happening. that little spark of mischief, the way you scanned his face, glossy pink lips slowly curling into a smug little smirk. you had an idea.

“you wouldn’t want my daddy to be mad at me, right?” you said sweetly, biting your lip, lashes fluttering up at him. “‘cause like, that’d be really bad of you.”

your fingers toyed with the hem of your crop top, pulling it down ever so slightly—just enough to make his gaze flicker, just enough to remind him how tight it was stretched across your perfect, perky tits.

rafe exhaled slowly through his nose, his jaw tightening. “you really think that’s gonna work?” he muttered, though his voice was noticeably rougher now. your smirk only widened. you leaned in, so close he could smell your sweet perfume and the bubblegum on your breath.

“can’t i, like…pay for this in a different way?” you murmured, your voice dripping with fake innocence, fingers trailing up the front of his uniform, playing with one of the buttons.

rafe’s gaze dropped to your lips—your glossy, plump, parted lips—and for a split second, he let himself imagine it. you, on your knees. looking up at him all needy and desperate, your bratty little attitude gone as you sucked his hard cock, choking as he forced you to deepthroat him.

“you’re out of your damn mind,” he muttered, eyes still maintained on your lips.

despite every reason to shut this down—your spoiled attitude, your blatant bribery, the fact that you’d just crashed into his damn car—he found himself rooted in place, his pulse thudding a little too hard, a little too fast.

your fingers were still playing with his uniform buttons, long nails scraping just lightly enough to send a chill down his spine. you knew exactly what you were doing.

your lips parted as if you were going to say something else—maybe another whiny complaint, maybe another suggestion for how you could make this ticket disappear—but before you could get the words out, he reached up, gripping your chin between his fingers.

the playful smirk vanished from your face. your lashes fluttered, lips parting slightly as you stared up at him, your usual bratty confidence flickering under the weight of his stare.

“sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth, just barely grazing your bottom lip. “you crash into a cop car, you pay the fine,” rafe continued, voice low, gravelly, his blue eyes darkening as he tipped your chin up further. “that’s how it works.”

you swallowed, your throat bobbing under his grip. then, suddenly, you let out a soft giggle. you tilted your head, nipping at the tip of his thumb before flashing him a sly, knowing smile

“or,” you whispered, your voice breathy, tempting, “you could just let it slide…” your giggle was soft, sweet—too sweet.

rafe went still. for a split second, he just stared at you, his grip tightening around your chin as the words sank in. you were bratty. you were spoiled. just so damn obvious.

and yet, he could feel the heat creeping up his neck, the urge to call your bluff pressing down on him like a weight.

his jaw ticked, his eyes flickering to the empty road, the pitch-black stretch of kildare that nobody ever drove down this late. the only sound was the soft whistle of the crickets in the distance, the occasional whisper of wind through the trees.

nobody was around.

nobody would see.

his eyes snapped back to you.

before you could react, rafe’s hand dropped from your chin, and instead, he began undoing belt. “better get to fuckin’ work then, hun.” he muttered, voice heavy with lust.

you gasped, eyes widening at the sight. his thick, hard cock sprung out of his trousers, now eye-level with you.

rafe just stared down at you, his chest rising and falling. he gripped your jaw and brought it towards his red-tipped dick, pressing it onto your glossy lips.

rafe swore he’d seen the smallest smirk on your lips before your mouth parted, inviting him in. his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as your hand came up to hold him steady at his base, cock going deeper into your throat with every lick.

gaining confidence, your movements became more fluid, bobbing your head onto his length with ease—like you were a pro at this, giving cops head to avoid paying tickets.

“fuck.” rafe groaned, throwing his head back in bliss, guiding the back of your head with his left hand. his right hand came down to your tube top, forcing it down to reveal your tits. you giggled on his cock, using your free hand to make a show of squeezing and playing with your boobs for him to watch.

“you’re such a fuckin’ slut…. givin’ a cop head so you don’t have to pay for ticket…” he humorlessly chuckled, gripping your hair tighter as he thrusted into your mouth faster.

spit bubbles were falling from the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the white leather of the drivers seat. he leaned down, grabbing a handful of your tit, massaging it as he groaned.

you stared up at him with doe-like eyes, silently begging for his cum. he recieved the message, grabbing your face with both of his hands, fucking your mouth at a fast pace.

gulg gulg gulg

your mouth made the explicit noise as you impulsively moaned around his member, scratching at his wrists, almost at your limit.

“shit—gonna cum all over that pretty face—“ rafe moaned, pulling out of your throat, jerking himself off, other hand forcing your mouth open wide.

his hot cum spurted out in white ropes, landing on various places of your flushed face. his movements on his cock slowed, as he gained his sense of reality back.

he looked down at your cum-cover face—laughing when he saw the bimbo-like look in your eyes.

“well,” he started, putting himself back into his trousers, grabbing a couple of napkins from the inside of your door. he wiped his white semen off of your face, making you giggle. “i guess i could let you off with a warning, instead.” he smirked, giving your red face a light slap.

<3