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219 posts
This Was So Delicious! Another Masterpiece!
This was so delicious! Another masterpiece!
A Family Affair
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Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: NON-CON/DUB-CON, STEPCEST, age gap, plus size!reader, infidelity
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
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summary: It's no secret that Rafe doesn't care for his stepmother, so when he suddenly starts being nice to you following his father's neglect, you're relieved to think that you can finally start acting like a family.
⭑
You sighed to yourself as the sound of Ward’s light snores faded behind you, your feet carrying you down the hall as you sought something to drink. It was late, and while you should’ve been asleep alongside the rest of the house, you were wide awake. Your thoughts strayed to your husband, and a familiar pang made your chest ache. Per usual, you attempted to ignore it, but the late hour and solitude prevented you from doing so.
Ward was so busy with business as of late, and while you knew what you were getting into when you married him, you hadn’t anticipated just how often you’d find yourself alone and without him. It wasn’t so bad the first few times you found yourself scarcely seeing him for weeks on end—business eventually letting up and allowing him to spend more time with you before the cycle repeated—but it started to get old after a while. The constant back and forth and ebb and flow of your relationship…
“Don’t you like the nice house? The fancy cars? The semi-annual trips?” was what he’d asked you one day when you brought it up.
At your reluctant nod, he’d merely given you a soft smile and a kiss on the cheek.
“You know it’s never temporary,” he’d murmured against your skin, trailing his fingers down your arm. “Work just pulls me away, sometimes.”
That was almost a year ago, and you were even less used to it, now.
The lifestyle made up for it in some ways, the sex in others, but you never thought you’d find yourself thinking that it was your stepchildren who really brought you so much joy on those days where you wondered if this relationship was fulfilling enough. You smiled into your glass at the thought of them, shaking your head as you remembered something Sarah had said the day before. They were far from perfect—one more so than the other two—but it was in a way that was almost endearing. Most of the time…
You swallowed down a sigh along with your drink as you thought of a familiar dirty blond.
Rafe Cameron was Ward’s only son, and such a title brought along lots of expectations that Rafe ever failed to live up to. You still couldn’t quite tell if Ward expected so much of him or if Rafe just refused to apply himself. You settled on something in between, a little bit of both of that from both of them. It made you sad, sometimes, and over the past few years you’d done your best to help and be there for Rafe, but all of your effort seemed to be in vain.
The twenty year old just didn’t like you…and you wondered if he ever would.
He was never shy about his feelings regarding you and on some level you appreciated the transparency, but on another it did sting a bit. There were moments where you wondered if he simply thought you weren’t good enough for Ward. You quickly learned how shallow Rafe could be, and it wasn’t like you were the thinnest woman out there—far from it, in fact. It definitely wouldn’t surprise you to learn he felt his father could do better in that department, but for some reason, you just didn’t buy that excuse.
The looks he gave you and the cold manner in which he talked to you sometimes made you feel like it was something far more personal than something as mundane as weight. It was moments like these where you realized just how much Rafe’s behavior got to you, and not because it hurt particularly bad, but mostly because you didn’t understand it.
You found yourself entertaining the same kind of thoughts a few nights later when face to face with Rafe, declining his ‘suggestion’ of throwing a little ‘get together’.
The younger man wasn’t happy with the discussion, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek—a tell-tale sign of his annoyance you’d come to learn— as he eyed you like you were something he’d find on the bottom of his shoe. With a soft scoff, he folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the back of the couch. You didn’t appreciate the small curve of his lips.
“You realize I'm an adult, right…? And that I technically don’t have to ask you permission for anything…right…?”
You licked your own lips, briefly glancing away with a sigh.
“Is that why you brought it up to me instead of just telling your father what you’re going to do?”
His expression shifted, the smile dropping from his lips, and you watched the way his jaw ticked.
“Ward would flat out tell you no, and you know it. I’m simply telling you no more than ten people. The last ‘get together’ you had here is still a little fresh in all of our minds, and you’re lucky I’m compromising at all after Wheezie found a condom in her room,” you reminded him. “There’s a reason you’re having this conversation with me and not Ward.”
Rafe’s nostrils flared, but he otherwise said nothing.
His silence gave you the opportunity to let out a sigh, stepping towards him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes closely followed the movement, used to him watching your every move. It was like Rafe didn’t trust your very presence, something you were sure he’d be over by now, but time had yet to prove you right.
“I’m on your side, Rafe. You understand that, right?”
He merely looked away from you, and you continued.
“I don’t enjoy you and Ward being at odds. You and I are a whole other conversation, but you and your father? I’m trying to help you help yourself, and you just seem to fight me every step of the way-.”
“You’re not my mother,” the blond coldly interrupted, making you swallow.
It wasn’t his sentiments that surprised you, but that he was actually saying it aloud. You long knew and accepted that Rafe didn’t—and probably wouldn’t ever—see you as such, but you were taken aback by him saying it and also saying it to your face.
“You’re just some thick thirty something piece of ass my dad married because hey…it’s not socially acceptable for a fifty-year old man to marry some twenty-five year old, so a thirty-eight year old is the next best thing he can get without being called a weirdo.”
He said all of this with a casual shrug, throwing his hands up, and you blinked.
You watched him as he straightened himself, slowly approaching you as he sniffed, eyeing you in a way that—for the first time ever—actually made you want to hide away from the world.
“Don’t worry about the party. I’ll just have it somewhere else…”
Rafe didn’t give you time to respond, brushing by you and leaving you to mull over his harsh words alone.
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“Oh!”
You clutched your water bottle to you, eyes wide as they landed on Kelce of all people in your kitchen. The dark skinned young man was merely getting a snack, nothing that caused for any kind of alarm, but you simply hadn’t even known he was here. His presence surprised you, and clearly yours surprised him by the way he also looked at you with wide eyes. Although you didn’t understand why.
This was your house, after all…
“How long have you been in the house?” you wondered, moving to the sink to refill your bottle.
“Uh…only about twenty minutes,” was his answer.
You nodded at that, understanding why you hadn’t been privy to his presence. You’d been lounging by the pool for at least forty-five, and when you turned back around, Kelce’s dark eyes met yours, the look on his face unreadable. The silence between you felt awkward for some reason, and you hesitantly took a sip of water, eyeing him with a frown.
“Is Topper here too? Do I need to make extra pasta tonight?”
“Uh, yeah. I mean…yes to the Topper question, and no to the other. We’re not staying,” he said with a shrug just as you heard loud footsteps on the stairs. “I actually think Rafe is chilling at my place tonight.”
“Okay,” you slowly responded with an even slower nod, still unsure about the look on his face.
You were going to ask him if he was alright when another familiar face joined you both, Topper stopping just at the entrance of the kitchen. His brows rose a tad when his gaze landed on you, and whatever look passed over his features had come and gone too fast for you to name.
“Hey, Mrs. Cameron,” he greeted. “Going for a swim?”
You briefly glanced down at your bathing suit, fixing him with a look that had him nodding.
“Right, stupid question…”
You looked between the both of them, curiously and suspiciously, mind running wild with the possibilities of just what could be going on with them.
You settled on weed.
“If you three are smoking up there…”
They both rushed to deny that, frantically correcting you.
“No, no, we’re just…you look very pretty today,” Topper politely said.
The compliment—even if a little backhanded—took you by surprise, having not expected that, at all. You looked between them again, recognizing the appreciative look in Kelce’s gaze at last, and you let out a small snort. It was flattering in the way a compliment from a child was, and you shook your head.
“Thank you, Topper,” you finally replied, moving to leave the kitchen. “I’ll be outside if any of you need anything.”
You hoped that they wouldn’t. Aside from the three of them, the house was empty, and you’d been taking advantage of such all day. A nice glass of lemon water, an engaging book, and a beautiful sky was all the company you needed to relax poolside. You really didn’t want that to be disturbed by college sophomores burning down the kitchen.
As you made your way towards the backdoor, you briefly caught sight of Rafe standing at the top of the stairs, one hand on the railing and the other occupied with his phone. His gaze broke away from the device just as you looked up, and your gazes only connected for a second or two before you were looking away, but not before throwing him a small smile.
You knew he wouldn’t return it.
The rest of your day was spent as peacefully as you hoped, Kelce’s words ringing true when Rafe did eventually leave the house with no intention of returning it seemed. You were done cooking just as Sarah and Wheezie came home, and although Ward partook in supper, he did have to leave early and retire to his study. You got the feeling that he’d be coming to bed late again, and as much as you tried, you couldn’t ignore that annoying tickle in your chest.
A small voice in your head told you there was a fine line between work and spousal neglect, and you’d shaken your head, cursing yourself for being so dramatic. Besides, even if Ward was neglecting you a tad, a million women would kill to be in your position. A few months without proper affection and alone time with your husband was nothing when you considered the lifestyle you were living.
Especially for someone who looked like you.
Your life could be a whole lot worse, and you promptly told yourself to stop acting so spoiled. It was just another rough work patch, something you should be more than used to. Granted, this time seemed to be dragging on longer than the others, but you knew that Ward would be able to step back some time soon and take you on dates and spend time with you and make love to you like he normally did.
You just needed to be patient.
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“You really don’t have to help clean up, Rafe.”
That was what you told the younger man as he grabbed the leftover casserole, searching for a tupperware to put it in. You eyed him but not in a way that was thankful or curious but instead in a way that was…perplexed. You’d been eyeing him that way for weeks, now, and you couldn’t find it in you to care if you were being subtle or not.
Gradually—almost too gradually for you to notice in the beginning—Rafe had softened towards you. That might’ve been the wrong word to use, but he was noticeably more agreeable—not necessarily kind—and it had thrown you for a loop from the first moment you noticed it. It was something so small—putting gas back in your car after he’d borrowed it to be exact—but it was also so out of the ordinary for Rafe that you couldn’t help but to linger on it. You’d stood by the door for what felt like minutes, still holding the keys he’d dropped in your hand.
It would’ve been easy to write it off as a one time uncharacteristic display of behavior but then he was asking if you wanted anything before he headed out and was helping you clean up after dinner and was replacing that one thing you were about to run out of before you even had the chance to. You weren’t complaining in the slightest, but you had gone to Ward to ask what he’d said to the younger Cameron to get him to treat you better.
“Nothing, I swear,” Ward had said to you, pulling you into his lap at his desk. “Maybe he’s just realizing how lucky he is to have you.”
You’d resisted the urge to roll your eyes at that, positive that Ward had found a way to put the fear of God into your stepson.
“I helped make the mess, didn’t I?” Rafe drawled, responding to you. “Besides, it’s not like I’ve got plans tonight.”
You frowned at his back at that, finding that incredibly hard to believe. If Rafe wasn’t with his friends, then he was spending his free time with his girlfriend. You’d never officially met her, but you heard him mention her in passing sometimes, and you were positive she was who you’d seen him at The Wreck with once. She was blonde and thin and as stereotypically Kook as one could get. She seemed just Rafe’s type, and wondering if she was out of town or something, you asked him.
He didn’t respond right away, and you almost assumed that you’d overstepped, tried to force this relationship too far too fast, and you'd be confronted with the Rafe you were used to at any moment now. However, the younger man only shrugged, putting the casserole in the fridge.
“She just has other plans tonight…”
The response was vague, but you left it alone, simply nodding.
When Rafe needed to get by you to put the empty dish in the dishwasher, his hand briefly touched the small of your back, and you gave it no mind but you did eye him again as he put more dishes in the dishwasher. Ward may have sworn up and down that he didn’t say anything to Rafe, but you surely didn’t believe him. You supposed that it didn’t matter either way, not particularly picky about whatever forced Rafe to start respecting you.
The other man wasn’t rolling his eyes at you and insulting you and giving you looks that could chill ice. That was all that mattered, and so pleased with Rafe’s forced change of heart, there were moments that you forgot about how tied up Ward was with work. After all, you’d long noted that it was your stepchildren that were the biggest pleasant surprises in your marriage, and now that that included Rafe, you almost didn’t mind that a month turned into two and then into three and eventually four of hardly any affection from your husband.
Your mind was off of it…until Rafe was mentioning it.
“If I wasn’t so sure that he’s obsessed with you, I’d think he was soft launching a divorce or something…”
You frowned at Rafe’s words, giving him a look that he clearly felt because he looked up from his phone. The look in your eyes must have portrayed your thoughts well because Rafe rolled his eyes, reaching over and touching your shoulder.
“It’s called a joke,” he drawled. “I know how hectic work has been lately. Trust if he could be up under you all the time, he would.”
The way Rafe said that gave you pause, thrown by the slight bitterness you swore you heard there. You’d always had the brief thought that maybe Rafe was just jealous of your relationship with Ward, his desire for the other man’s approval no secret. It wouldn’t be unheard of for a child to envy the part of their parent that couldn’t be shared with them but with a lover or friend instead. Rafe was continuing before you could linger on that thought though.
“I’m just pointing out that work hasn’t ever been this bad before…”
He only just dropped his hand from your shoulder.
“I know he probably hates it as much as you do, but unlike you, he can’t distract himself with Wheezie or Sarah or shopping or days spent by the pool…”
Rafe trailed off, a glint in his eyes that came and went, and you watched as he pulled his lip between his teeth before fixing you with a haughty smile.
“It’ll pass,” he shrugged.
You had never worried that it wouldn’t, but if even Rafe had noticed, you started to wonder if maybe you should.
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“Uh…yeah, Rafe’s just upstairs.”
You moved out of the way to let the younger girl in, the ire on her face as clear as day. You watched her as she stomped up the stairs, and you worriedly wondered if you’d done the right thing. What if Rafe wasn’t expecting her? Even worse…what if they were in some kind of fight and she chose to hash it out here? Closing the front door, you quickly made your way to the bottom of the stairs, surprised to hear their voices so clearly.
It was clear to you that he hadn’t let her in his room.
“The whole nonchalant boyfriend thing is getting old, Rafe.”
You blinked at that.
“Every time I want to see you, it’s excuses. You cancel half the plans we make, and when you are with me, your mind is a million miles away,” the blonde girl practically spat. “So, you either don’t have the balls to dump me or there’s someone else.”
Her tone got particularly nasty near the end there.
“...and God knows I would love to see who you’d dare to cheat on me with.”
This conversation felt too personal—too raw—and you slowly backed away just as Rafe let out a cold chuckle. You made your way to the kitchen to finish cooking dinner, the task having been interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Your frown deepened as you chopped onions, unsure of what was going on between Rafe and his girlfriend but hoping he had the decency to treat her right.
You mulled over her words, confusion filling you as they played in your mind. Rafe had been spending so much time at home the past few months that you found it hard to believe he’d been putting an ounce of effort into anyone else. The only woman you were sure he was spending a considerable amount of time with was…well…you. The thought made you snort, but it was the truth. It was funny because you were sure that you’d seen more of Rafe than you had your own husband as of late..
So many times you were already asleep when he came to bed, and when you woke up, his side of the bed was empty. There had been quite a few days when Rafe was the only other person at the breakfast table and some days where he was wading in the same pool you were lounging by or just scrolling on his phone while you read on the couch. Ward had long told you he hadn’t said a thing to Rafe about treating you better, and at the time you hadn’t believed him, but you also felt like you knew Rafe well, and you knew he wasn’t the type to do what he didn’t want to do for long—if at all.
You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of their hushed voices traveling into the kitchen as they moved through the house, tones angry.
“Do not talk about her like that,” Rafe suddenly spat, those words as clear as day, and you paused in what you were doing.
A few more hushed words were angrily exchanged, and it wasn’t long before you heard the door slam.
“Rafe…”
Your disappointed tone was all that met him when he stepped into the kitchen, and he eyed you, a hand in his pocket.
“It’s not what you think,” was all he said. “She’s full of herself, alright? If I’m not in the mood to be around her then I must be cheating.”
You pressed your lips together as he neared the island.
“I don’t know… It sounded like she has every reason to suspect to me.”
Rafe fixed you with a look you couldn’t name, a smirk dancing along his lips.
“Eavesdropping…?”
Now, you rolled your eyes, giving him a pointed look.
“Not on purpose, no, but… Whoever this other girl is, defending her like that to your girlfriend surely won’t earn you any points.”
His laugh took you by surprise, and you looked at him as he leaned his forearms on the island top, looking up at you from beneath his lashes. His hair kissed his forehead.
“I wasn’t defending some ‘other girl’,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I was defending you.”
You faltered at that, blinking with parted lips.
“She said something about having to talk to you just to see me and…” he shrugged. “I didn’t like it.”
You didn’t know what to say to that, simply settling for ‘oh’.
“Trust me there is no other girl…just you, and it’s not your fault that my stepmom is more interesting to be around than that stuck up bimbo.”
You didn’t like the way he talked about her, but he was patting your hand and leaving the kitchen before you could reprimand him on it.
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You weren’t all that surprised to find your living room occupied by familiar faces—more than used to it—but you were taken aback when one of those familiar faces greeted you with a charming grin.
“Hey, Mrs. Cameron…”
Kelce’s tone made you roll your eyes, and you didn’t miss the way Topper lightly hit his arm.
“Afternoon,” you said, a comment about the weather on your lips when the dark skinned boy was suddenly on his feet.
“Let me help you with those,” he hurried to say, taking half of the grocery bags before you had a chance to protest. “They look kind of heavy for you.”
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” you lightly told him.
You supposed that Kelce found himself with a bit of a crush on you—you weren’t stupid—but it was harmless. After all, it manifested in ways such as him complimenting you when he saw you and helping you put groceries away. It was hardly anything to find fault in and complain about. At least, that was how you saw it, but evidently others didn’t agree.
“What the hell are you doing?”
The cold voice had you both pausing, and for a brief moment, you could’ve sworn it was Ward, but no one was more surprised than you to come face to face with Rafe. You blinked in confusion at him, but the blond only had eyes for his friend, those baby blues narrowed in a way you hadn’t seen in some time. He looked at Kelce like he wasn't a friend, and you took a few steps towards him.
“Kelce was just-.”
“I know what Kelce was doing,” was all Rafe said, his tone and few words enough to make the young man in question slink away.
You watched him disappear with a scoff, slowly looking at Rafe again.
“He’s your friend, Rafe. No need to be rude,” you lightly scolded.
The blond rolled his eyes, slowly rolling his head to look at you with a gleam in his eyes that made you freeze for half a second. He’d been so nice to you lately that you sometimes forgot how mean he could be—how mean he could look—but that glint in his gaze was gone just as fast as it came. A smirk ghosted over his lips, and there was nothing humorous about it.
“I need to be rude because he’s my friend,” he said, finally moving to help finish putting up the groceries. “He’s been sniffing around you for months, and you’re just lapping it up.”
You frowned at Rafe, prepared to say something against that when his next words forced you to swallow your words.
“I know my dad’s kind of been…” he slowly ran his gaze over you. “...dropping the ball lately…”
You reared back at that, completely aware of what he meant.
“...but don’t encourage Kelce. You might find it sweet, but he’d fuck you in a heartbeat if he could.”
“Rafe!”
He ignored your outburst, slowly brushing by you as he put some spices up in the cabinet. When you looked over your shoulder, he was nearing you again, and he chuckled when his hand rested on your back.
“He’s my friend,” he softly said, his voice sounding like it was right at your ear. “No one knows what he’s thinking more than me.”
You didn’t doubt that—and you surely didn’t deny it—but you still didn’t appreciate his callous tone and words. You wrapped your arms around yourself as he left the kitchen, taking slow steps to stand at the entrance as he rejoined his friends. You couldn’t see them, but you could hear them, and you pressed your lips together at the sound of Kelce’s apologies.
“You know he doesn’t mean anything by it,” Topper’s voice echoed.
You chose to tune them out, turning away to gather the empty bags.
Rafe’s words—and the look he gave you—took up your thoughts, and there was a bitter taste in your mouth that you swallowed down. You didn’t appreciate his commentary on your romantic relationship with his father, both because it was embarrassing and wholly inappropriate. Was it that obvious to everyone else how isolated you and Ward had become from one another? You hated the idea of Rafe and his friends sitting around and talking about it.
While your relationship with the blond had improved, there were times where he definitely talked to you like less of a stepson and more like a friend. You preferred if there were some boundaries, but you reminded yourself that this was Rafe and maybe this was the best you’d ever get. You asked yourself if you really preferred how things used to be over whatever this was?
Rafe only chuckled at you a few weeks later when you brought it up.
“Come on, you know it’s mostly just teasing,” he said with a shrug. “Besides, I see how much my dad’s work bothers you when it pulls him away.”
He shrugged again.
“Sue me for trying to make you laugh about it…”
He was helping you put up clothes that you’d washed, and your gaze traveled to the dresser, eyes landing on a picture of the man in question. Rafe had always been observant, that had never been one of the issues with him. It was always getting him to do something with what he’d observed that was the problem. If someone had told you a year ago that you would be discussing your marriage with Rafe of all people—even just casually—you probably would have laughed.
You weren’t laughing today though.
“I appreciate the gesture…sort of but…that’s not your place, Rafe,” you sighed. “You’re supposed to illegally drink and get high and do stupid things with your friends. You are not supposed to concern yourself with how my marriage to your father is going.”
You paused.
“...even if it is just a joke.”
You heard Rafe make a noise you didn't recognize, and when you looked at him, his gaze was already on you. He’d long stop folding Ward’s shirts it seemed, content to lean against the nightstand and watch you. His expression was even—unreadable—and when he tilted his head to the side, he hummed.
“Why not?”
You hadn’t expected that response.
“He’s my father, and you’re married to him, and that does affect me in some ways. It affects all of us actually…”
You frowned at him.
“You think Sarah and Wheezie haven’t noticed?”
You deflated a bit at that, eyes widening a tad.
“You don’t think they talk about how different things are between you lately and if you’re getting a divorce?”
You slowly shook your head, lips parting, but Rafe continued before you could say anything.
“Who do you think has to reassure them? Because they’re definitely not going to talk to either of you,” he scoffed. “I think I should be allowed to comment on your relationship because if it goes south…well…we lose another mom.”
You looked away at that, entirely unprepared for the turn this conversation had taken. Rafe had a point, you had to admit, and you almost felt silly for expecting Rafe to have no opinions on a relationship that he was correct in saying affected him. Attempting to lighten the mood, you let out a soft chuckle.
“Well, let’s be honest. You never thought of me as much of a mom, anyway,” you folded a shirt. “Ward and I are not getting divorced anytime soon, but if we did, I have a feeling you wouldn’t be too bent out of shape over it.”
The other man didn’t respond right away, and when you glanced at him again you realized why. He’d moved closer—you hadn’t even heard him do so—and you watched him take the shirt out of your hand. His fingers brushed yours as he did so, and Rafe pursed his lips, eyeing the shirt in his hands.
“That might’ve been true some time ago, but… I’ve come to appreciate you a lot more than I have before.”
He continued before you could even smile at that.
“The potential our relationship has and…what we can do for each other…”
He looked between your eyes as he said this, and the longer he stared at you, the more off the silence felt.
“Right,” you slowly said, and Rafe only smirked.
“My dad hasn’t really been doing his part to keep you happy in this family,” you shook your head at him, but he ignored it. “...and I get it. Work and all that, but I actually like having you around now. Especially when you walk around in those tight little one pieces…”
You stumbled back at his words, heart dropping to your stomach.
“Rafe-.”
“I mean, I doubt you’d ever leave…but you would be a lot less likely too I think if someone else was picking up his slack.”
You were acutely aware of how quiet the rest of the house was—because it was empty. Wheezie and Sarah were both with friends, and Ward was out, leaving just you and Rafe. That fact had you blinking, and while some part of you wanted to write Rafe’s words off to a sick joke, something deep down knew that he wasn’t anything less than serious.
“What…? Kelce of all people can flirt with you, and you eat it up, but here I am telling you I’m going to do what my dad can’t, and you look like you’re ready to crawl out of your skin,” he chuckled with a shake of his head.
“I’m not married to Kelce’s father,” you breathed. “...and he’s like a horny teenager. He’s of no consequence—Rafe…you’re in your father’s bedroom…telling his wife that…”
You couldn’t even get the words out, and Rafe grabbed your arm, pulling you closer.
“That what? That I don’t understand how my dad can have a wife like you and still prioritize work?”
You attempted to move away, but Rafe’s strength took you by surprise, gasping when he held you against him, one hand finding a home on the curve of your waist.
“That I get why Kelce keeps seeing if you’ll give him an ‘in’ because I feel the exact same way? Except, unlike Kelce, I don’t really care about getting permission?”
That angered you, and you were sure it was all over your face.
“Rafe-.”
He swallowed what you were about to say with a kiss, effectively shutting you up. If his strength before had surprised you, it was nothing in comparison to the feeling of Rafe lifting you and depositing you on Ward’s bed. It shook under your combined weight, and he was moving at a pace that was hard to keep up with. Rafe’s mouth was all over you, and so much was happening that it made it hard to think straight.
“Rafe…stop,” you gasped.
“Why?” he wondered against the skin of your stomach as he pushed your dress up. “How long has it been? How many months? You can’t tell me that you won’t enjoy this.”
You pushed at his head, but it was of no use. When his mouth attached to your cunt, you reached out to clutch at the bed, thighs almost crushing his head as you tensed beneath him. The feel of his tongue sliding between your folds had your eyes rolling, and deep in the back of your mind you hoped and prayed that no one would walk through that door.
You didn’t even want to imagine what this would look like should someone come up the stairs.
With his arms hooked around your thighs, he rolled you both until you were sitting on his face, and once again his strength had your head spinning. It seemed that in this position you;d surely have more of an upper hand now, but Rafe’s grip was strong on your legs. To your dismay, you couldn’t lift yourself off of him, and you had no choice but to press your hand into the mattress as he ate you out. His head moved beneath you, moving from side to side as he lapped at you, panties harshly pulled to the side.
As you felt how wetter you were becoming under his ministrations, you thought about his words—about how he said you’d enjoy this.
You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right, but the way he hummed told you that your body was doing that for him. You cried out when he slipped two fingers into you, stretching you out in time with tasting you, and the only sound in the room was that of your harsh pants and the wet sound of his tongue and mouth between your legs. He only allowed you to roll off of him when you came—hard and mind shattering and everything that you hadn’t felt in months.
You were a panting and overheated mess as you laid there, eyes wide and unblinking as you tried to process what had just happened. As you did, you could hear Rafe moving behind you, and only then did you attempt to gather your thoughts and sit up. You were embarrassingly wet, and the fact that Rafe was the cause had your head spinning and stomach turning. Before you could turn around and ask him what the hell was wrong with him, his hand was in your hair.
You’d only just gotten it done, and he twisted the braids around his fist.
He shushed you when you cried out, using that same strength to push you back down. His other hand was in between your legs—stroking you and fondling you and sinking his fingers into you again and again. With your dress around your waist, you could feel his bare skin against your thigh. You could feel the length of him and how hard he was, and while half of you feared what was to come, the other half couldn’t help but to make you clench around his fingers at the thought of Rafe sinking his cock into you.
“You’re so fucking tight, you know that?”
He pulled his fingers out before pulling at your panties, the fabric stretching painfully before they tore completely.
“My dad must only fuck you once a month,” he chuckled to himself.
“Rafe,” you scolded, attempting to push against him, but your movements faltered when the head of him pushed into you.
It made you sharply inhale, and you squeezed your eyes shut as he slowly sank into you inch by inch. His hand was still tight in your hair, pressing your head down to the mattress while he forced you to arch your back. You heard him cursing the more he filled you, and when his hips were flush with yours, he wasted no time in pulling out before swiftly sliding back inside of you.
You couldn’t swallow down your moan.
“That’s it,” you heard him breathe. “You missed this, huh?”
He wasn’t wrong, but Rafe was also…longer than his father. Thicker too, and the stretch was something you weren’t used to. The feel of his cock made your toes curl, and you clawed at the expensive bedding, hating the way you started to meet his thrusts. Your brain felt like it was taken over by a fog, only able to focus on Rafe fucking you and chasing your high by using his cock. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, and you were so grateful the house was empty.
You were embarrassingly loud.
You felt unable to control yourself, crying out as you clenched around him and words tumbling from your lips that you didn’t recognize. Had you begged him to fuck you harder? Stretch your pussy? Come inside of you? It was possible, to be honest. You hadn’t realized just how much you missed this feeling until it was your stepson of all people giving it to you.
When you eventually found yourself on your back—and face to face with Rafe once again—you were lifting your hips to make him sink into you faster every time. Your dress had long been discarded, underwear hanging off of your hips in tatters, and your nails were pressed into his back. If Rafe was bothered by the feel of that, he didn’t say anything, but you doubted that was the case. He was too occupied with connecting his hips with yours and plunging into your soaking cunt. The sound of your coupling was loud—the squelch of your core reaching your ears with every thrust—and you absentmindedly noted that you’d never been this wet in your life.
Was it the way he’d just taken what he wanted? You’d never been the kind of woman into stuff like that. Perhaps it was the obvious though—the forbidden nature of it all. Rafe was your husband’s son, and he was fucking you—on Ward’s bed no less. You’d never been into stuff like that either though. Everything about this was nothing at all like you, and when Rafe’s phone lit up on the bed—a familiar name popping up on the screen—your heart sank.
His girlfriend.
You’d forgotten all about her too although you weren’t so sure she and Rafe were even together anymore. You hadn’t seen her or heard about her in some time, not since that day she came by the house, and his words and demeanor that day suddenly made more sense to you. He had been consuming so much of his time with you, but you hadn’t thought anything of it. Now, though…
You had no choice but to acknowledge what had been right in front of you all along.
You threw your head back as Rafe thrust into you slow, your legs parted as he rested on his knees, his gaze focused on where his cock disappeared into you. You looked down too, growing wetter at the sight of your juices on him. You were literally dripping around the length of him, making a mess of your thighs and the bedding, and when Rafe spoke to you the first time, you didn’t hear him.
“What…?” you breathed, looking at him through hooded eyes.
“I want to come inside of you so bad,” he purred, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your jaw. “Want to fill you up on his sheets and let it drip out.”
You didn’t say anything to that, but the way you clenched around him made Rafe chuckle.
“Does that turn you on? Hmm? Does my dad know what a whore he married?”
His thrusts grew rougher, making you gasp.
“I should probably be grateful though. Anything less, and you would’ve fought harder to stop me,” he murmured. “...but you didn’t because you knew you’d enjoy this. You knew you’d like fucking me.”
You could feel how close you were—and you were sure Rafe could too—and you dug your nails into his arms. You did want him to come inside of you, you wanted to feel him twitch as he spilled into you—filling you up and coating your walls—and you wanted to push it out after he pulled out of you. Ward always used condoms, and you understood it. He didn’t want any more children, and you were so far from menopause, but you couldn't even care about that right now as Rafe pushed you towards both of your highs.
When he came, he came with a loud grunt, and you couldn’t stop moaning as the feel pushed you over the edge. You swore that you felt him deep in your gut, his hips roughly slapping against yours as he forced you to milk him dry. Your legs shook and your vision blurred, and you were disappointed when Rafe didn’t stay in you long enough. Your heart was going a mile a minute, and you couldn’t move.
You just laid there with your legs strewn about, Rafe’s cum between your folds and sweat clinging to your skin. When you finally looked at him, he was running his hand through his hair, but it did no good. It was so damp with sweat. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world, like he hadn’t just fucked his father’s wife, and when his gaze met yours, there was a haughty smile on his lips.
“He’ll probably be working late tonight…”
You swallowed at that, hating the way your heart jumped.
“...so you’ll have to be quiet while he’s in his study.”
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More Posts from Reblogingfics
the only thing you’d willingly let slap across your face is his cock.
after he’s done ramming his length down your throat, he gives you a second to catch your breath, watching his drenched dick glisten with your saliva. your face is so fucked out and the only thing he can do is chuckle and admire how your mouth is still wide open; tongue poking out as you pant for his cock.
“such a pretty slut for me.”
his smirk is heard through his words as he strokes himself with one hand while the other grips at your hair to force your head under his dick.
still holding his length, he swipes his balls across your mouth, tongue immediately latching around them and lips puckering up while he drops his balls further into your gob.
he can’t help clenching his thighs when he feels you suck around him, loud groans erupting from his chest.
“fuuuuck yes… juuust like that.”
his sounds and curses are like words of encouragement to you so you carry on as best as you can — even though you feel entirely brain fucked — to please him with all your might.
the loud, wet noises that are made only make his ears perk further before he feels his core tighten and dick throb. your eyes are screwed shut as he shoves himself as far as he can, the corners of your lips beginning to pain as they stretch from taking his balls in your mouth.
when he feels the rush within him grow, he’s quick to empty your gob and leave you gasping for air while he quickly jacks himself off over your face.
“want your cum !” he can only bite his lip and grin at how desperate you still are despite just being full to the brim with his dick.
his jaw drops at the sight of your droopy eyes and laid out tongue before pointing his tip at it and releasing all his cum. you’re sure not to waste a single drop, swallowing all that entered your mouth as he becomes a grunting mess.
“what a good girl.”
he thrusts himself into you one last time, lips wrapping around his length before pulling out with a pop.
the beam on your face has his cock twitch, hand moving to tap his tip against your cheek a couple times, smile only widening.
BTS MASTERLIST
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© kinktae — all rights reserved. reposting or translation onto other sites even WITH proper credit given is not permitted.
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▸ rewind series masterlist
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*questions? this post might help!
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ao3 & wattpad
WIP PAGE | SCHEDULE
Apology Boy
Description: Paul finally apologizes for the scar(s) he gave you when he saw you for the first time.
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Pairing: Paul Lahote | Human mate!You.
Warning(s): Paul's anger, possible past angst, fluff, Paul is a crazed mess for you, size kink (duh), imprinting/mates, abo!verse but you're human, possessiveness, fingering, cunnilingus (worship), breeding kink, licking, biting, smut with plot because oh God I can never stop myself, teasing, pet names, unprotected p-in-v, overstimulation, manhandling, light dom!Paul because I am still me. MDNI.
Type: Request, for the sweet @wishyouloveme, here.
MASTERLIST
Just like any other day.
. . .
It hit Paul like a freight train and caused sweat to form in ice cold drops on his otherwise warm skin. He had just returned from patrol with Embry and was spread over Emily's dining table whilst stuffing his face with the food she had cooked for them. Everything was fine and dandy. It was a pleasant day and the weather was nice and cool. Soon, he would be done with his daily obligations and then he would go home.
But then Sam came up behind Emily who was standing next to her mate's seat at the head of the table, one hand on the frame and other on her hip as she listened to Seth drone on and on about something that Paul's voice refused to register due to what unfolded next.
The pack leader's strong arms snaked around the waist of his delicate lover as he nuzzled his nose into her hair until the tip had found its way past the dark strands and against her tender cheek until it was caressing and tracing the scars he had left on her.
All blood drained from Paul's skin and something in his head clicked. His surroundings faded to a dim buzz and the next few moments went by in a blur.
And then he was standing in front of home.
“Paul!” You yelp in surprise at the sight of your nude lover. He usually dresses himself at Sam's house after patrols before coming home to you.
Since you are human and your initial experience with the pack had both been overwhelming -thanks to your lover imprinting on you the first chance he was given- and traumatizing -as said lover who was much worse at controlling his primal urges back then had lost control at the sight of you because he was so overcome with raw, foreign emotion he did not know how to process-, you prefer to keep by yourself near the outskirts of the community in a house that Paul had moved in with you upon your request.
The pack life is simply too loud and… public for you; a city girl used to her secluded places and treasured privacy.
You notice that Paul is panting -which is very unlike him due to his superhuman strength- and a redness outlines his eyes when his huge form approaches yours. “Are you— Paul!” You gasp and nearly flinch from both the shock and impulse when he lets his heavy body collapse on its knees in front of you. “What the hell happen—” you never know with your hyper emotional mate.
His long fingers push your sweater up and out of his way so he can stroke the soft skin of your stomach with the tip of his nose, his head nuzzling into your chest as his dark eyes flutter close and he inhales a deep whiff of your scent. It is the only thing that never fails to calm your hot blooded lover down.
“What's wrong?” Your voice lowers to a concerned mumble as you peer down at him, your fingers cradle the dusky skin of his handsome face -as much of it as you can reach- and your nails rake through the male's jet black mass of short hair. “Honey?” He only behaves like this if something went wrong or when he is in need of comfort, which are both rare occurrences as he is the usual caretaker in your relationship. But you aren't a complete stranger to him acting like this.
Ever the uncommunicative one, the male only sighs— no, whimpers against your skin as if he's wounded and softly feels your skin with gentle caresses of his fingers. Words require thought, patience and wisdom. Unfortunately, Paul's instinctual mind runs too fast for those things to catch up with it in time and rash actions get carried out before better sense can supply him from its store.
“Paul…” A shiver runs down your spine when his lips that had begun to softly peck your navel find their way up your stomach before they halt to ghost over the healed, plum coloured lesions that stretch across your tender skin in menacing shapes akin to claw marks. “What are you doing?” Though he never mentions or discusses it verbally due to the guilt he feels, sometimes Paul becomes hyper aware of the scars of his unmediated passion that mar your skin and tries to make up for them in his own wordless ways.
Except, this only ever happens when you're underdressed or the two of you are indulging in activities typical to couples and the sight of them reminds him of their cause. He has never stormed into the house stark naked and marched up to you like an unreadable oversized pup on the brink of tears like this.
“I am sorry.” You nearly jump due to how unexpected the sound of his words are. Usually he just sulks in silence. “Baby, I am so sorry” Paul never speaks when he is in one of these moods. Especially when he is experiencing bouts of guilt for his actions during his first encounter with you. “Oh, God” his body grows heavy against yours as he practically pushes his face into the crevices like he wants to become one with them and fill them back up to their original state with parts of himself.
“Paul— oof!” Your smaller body yields to his weight and the ground slips from underneath your feet. “D- Did the guys say something?” You fear the worst as Paul's protective hands catch you before your back can hit the wooden ground and you cannot help but whimper from how his lips lock with the scars in thick, desperate and hurried apologetic kisses.
Paul and his pack mates play rough and sometimes they go too far with the teasing. So though he clings to the tough guy act in front of them, he dismantles into you once he is home if their words ever get too far. Yes, the tussling and fighting is not enough if it's serious. And just sometimes, when it gets too much for him to bottle it up, he shares some of it with you. But most often not, since he knows how you feel about the pack and he does not like to worry you.
“I am sorry it has taken me this long to say it out loud, baby… but I am so sorr—”
“Paul, hey, look at me” but he refuses to detach himself from your skin in his shame, his big hands safely holding your whole body up against his. “You don't have to—” you cannot help it, you hate to see him like this when you know how badly he regrets it. You hate for him to hurt.
“But I do” he nearly growls against your skin, his fingers tightening on your hips to brace himself against the war in his head. “There’s not a day that goes by where I don't regret it.”
“But you didn't do it on purpose, baby” you sigh when he refuses to let you see him. Your fingers try to pry his stubborn face upwards. “And you worked and improved for us, didn't you, hm?” Your eyes earnestly search for his. “Don't sell yourself so short.” One of your hands rubs his tense shoulders to try and ease their guilt-stricken stiffness.
“All the same” ever the stubborn knucklehead. “I should have done this a long time ago. But I was selfish and I was afraid that if I verbally mentioned it…” He hesitates and the love you behold for him renders you helpless against a burning urge to reassure him.
“My love—”
“I was scared you'd get reminded of it and…” He takes a deep breath and then gulps down the bile in his throat, blinking back tears. “L- Leave me…” Paul's voice is barely a whisper and your heart breaks at how vulnerable he sounds. “And I am such an asshole for it because it had more to do with my fear of you leaving me than you reliving your trauma…”
“Paul…” You blink and try to focus, but his warm gropes and caresses falter your steam of thought.
“I love you, I really do, so much” he peeks up at you just a little, dark eyes frightened for the first time since the day he scarred you. “Please forgive me. I don't ever want to lose you. I know what I did was irreversible but I swear I'll spend the rest of my life fixing it… if you'll let me.” You shake your head.
Does he really think there's an off chance that you will leave?
“Paul” when you cup the side of his face, he hides into your stomach again. “Hey,” you try to duck your face closer to his. make him look at you. “Look at me” your intended request comes out an order due to all the emotions you feel. “I forgave you a long time ago. That's the reason why I am still here” you finally manage to place your forehead against his, making your breaths mingle with his. “I love you more, so much more.” He opens his mouth to drone so you beat him to it.
“Now shut up and kiss me.”
Paul is taken aback at your demand, his widening eyes prove it. But as surprising as it may be for him, this isn't something that was unresolved for you until today -unlike him- so you aren't as overwhelmed with angst. Because your mate has proven his love, devotion and worthiness of you through his actions over the course of your relationship. He has shown you that he loves you and that he is sorry for what he did.
If anything, his innocently intimate and lovestruck worship of your body has fired it up instead of making it sentimental.
And so you want him.
Bad.
“But—”
“No buts. Kiss me.” You are breathless as you urge him to do so, your hands try to pull his face closer into yours although in vain because his bigger and stronger form remains unbudging.
Paul's eyes search yours for assurance. “... Yes, ma'am” he whispers once finds it and the next thing you know, you're being pounced down onto the floor with his arms cased around you to protect you from the impact.
And though you always feared that him getting physical in this manner would trigger you, you giggle against his mouth that he drags across your chest and up your throat to clamp onto yours. Your arms circle around his broad shoulders and instead of trying to repel him -like you suspected you would despite having grown to trust him now- you pull him closer as you whimper into the tender yet hungry kiss, feeling your legs climb the lower half of his body instinctively.
“Paul~” you needily blabber against his tongue that he uses to enjoy the sweetness of your mouth, his balmy lips enveloping everything your mouth has to offer in tight, big kisses. “Mm~” your chest aches from the strain the lack of oxygen puts on your lungs but your sparking nether regions only scoot closer to his that you feel riling up against yours, your hips grinding against his and limbs tightening around his rock hard body.
“Mine” he growls against your mouth when he has no choice but to pull apart at last, his coarse fingers groping you in greedy handfuls while peeling away any fabric that hurdles their path to your skin. “All mine” you moan at the feeling of his teeth grazing against the tender skin of your boobs that he sprays with kisses and licks. “God, mouse, I love you so much” the strength he puts into pushing everything you wear on your upper body away from it leaves you breathless. You love the thrill you feel when his touch feels like he is on the horizons of the dangers he is capable of. When he is so worked up and desperate that he cannot help but get rough because your sweet sweat and arousing body heat fires him up the way it does. You are addicted to the sight of him not giving in to his beastly impulses despite all that because he loves you so much. It is scary, yes. But it turns you on too.
“I love you too, Paul” though he likes to act cocky and all-knowing most of the time, you know he needs to hear it too. Underneath all that knucklehead play fighting and manhandling of his, he needs reassurance just as much as the next person and though he tries not to burden you as his different lifestyle is hard enough for you as it is, you don't have to be part wolf to feel him and hear his heart.
“You're so perfect…” The way he peppers wet kisses along your cheekbone whilst relieving you of the rest of your clothing causes for your eyes to flutter close to cherish the tingling feeling that sparks your body alight. “Just—” when you try to reach for him to also make it enjoyable for him, he plants your hands above your head and softens your confused pout with a kiss. “Just let me take care of you today, yeah? Don't worry about anything.”
“But— oh!” He reaches for the mating mark that sits on the right side junction of your neck where a she-wolf's mating glad would be. And though you lack the physical features to feel him through it, the meaning that it holds for Paul serves as a bridge for the biological gap. “Oh…” You turn your head sideways to rub your cheek against his shaved one, your hips roll into his hand that dips between your legs and you shudder against Paul's hot tongue that drags across the impressions of his teeth that crevice your skin.
“Taste so fuckin' sweet, baby” there is a strain in Paul's voice because of how much strength it is taking him to hold himself back from impaling you full of his cock right there. “So perfect” the lower half of his body leaps down so he can rub his bare erection against the softness of your leg.
You moan at the feeling. “Paul,” you whisper into his hair, the feeling of his sharp teeth causing for slick to sizzle up to your entrance from the inside. He growls out a quiet yes, baby against the mark, one hand constantly caressing the dents running along the width of your stomach. “Don't hold back” you go to touch his rock hard cock and he grunts in denial, seizing your wrist in his fingers faster than you can blink.
His face comes up to dominate your vision. “No, mouse, tonight is all about you” another kiss squishes out any protest you can form and when his invasive tongue has your nostrils flared from the breathlessness, Paul drags it down your writhing body in the company of heavy pecks until his mouth is between your thighs and he is propping one up with a broad shoulder and the other with his hand that isn't occupied with caressing the evidence of his temper.
“Paul—!” He knows how shy you get when he is between your legs like this.
But it's not his fault you taste so fulfilling.
“Sh, little mouse, you're perfect” he kisses any and all insecurities away with gentle kisses, the hand that cases one of your thighs stroking the tender inside with its thumb. “And you taste so good too” he takes his time worshiping your pelvis, deliberately leaving out your pussy to save the best for last. And though you pretend to disapprove and whine for him to come back up and just fuck you instead, his soft kisses that vibrate into your skin every time he moans at the feeling of your nether skin touching his slightly chapped lips, you find yourself helplessly crying out for more at the end.
“Paul, please!” You feel his mouth twist into a smirk and your hands dart to finger his thick hair to withstand the sensation of his mouth hovering over your petals.
“Please what, mouse?” You roll your eyes at the taunt in his voice.
“Please touch me!” Your fingers impatiently tug at his short strands and he grins.
“Oh, mouse, but I am touching you” you whine and his shoulders vibrate under your knees from his devilish mirth.
“Y- You know what I mean!” Though your cheeks are already aflush, you feel new heat seep underneath the layers of the reddened skin.
“Mmm, but I thought you wanted me to—”
“Paul!” You desperately whine and he lets out a deep cackle.
“Fine, geez” he is so mean when he gets smug. You go to scowl down at him but he takes the mound between your legs in a deep handful and feels the slit between your petals in a vertical caress of his thumb before you do and you end up letting out a loud moan instead. “Needy much?” You bite your lip and wantonly roll your hips closer to his mouth. “Tsk, tsk. Impatient little mouse…” The tip of his digit presses between your nether lips that are dusted with pearly discharges of your arousal and a cherry red flush and your hips buck in anticipation. “You're lucky that you're so pretty and I like you so much…” Your spine trembles in your skin when you feel the coarse skin of his thumb against your ultrasensitive folds. “Because I typically don't appreciate things so small ordering me around…” Your back arches when he finally sticks the hot tip of his tongue between your nether lips.
“Oh…” You feel your toes curl. “More, please, Paul, more.”
He is so enchanted by your sweet scent and addictive taste that he is ignorant to anything that isn't your body. “But you, my dear mouse, you're something else…” His strong hands take your ass in them and he firmly kneads the plump skin, talking pretty much over you with a lust-drunken madness. You mewl out a moan at the feeling and Paul growls at the sound you make, pulling you closer to his mouth as he presses an open kiss to your pussy. “Fuck,” he groans and licks his lips that glisten from your slick, his own tip leaking at the taste of you. “I've never tasted anything like you before and I sure as hell am never gonna get tired of it.”
“Paul!” you cry out when his tongue twirls against your entrance, his nose rubbing against your clit to caress it with the tip as he begins to eat you out.
His growl that vibrates your soaked folds to a buzzing life causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head. “Paul” you moan breathlessly, his name turning to a prayer as you tremble on the verge of releasing more slick.
“Gimme that sweet cum, baby, let me taste it” your lips part and you can't help but arch into his mouth with need. His hands are merciless, the one on your ass kneads it with rough gropes as the other massages the underside of your thighs in broad, determined strokes. You moan and writhe against him, your vision blurring at the hot waves that take over your body.
“I am gonna— oh, Paul!” He moans against you as you tremble and then release more even slick into his mouth. His tongue is in heaven as he greedily licks up all he can get.
“Fucking hell, baby” the grainy tip of his tongue pokes and prods at your entrance, working the little hole open. “I can't wait to stuff this pretty little pussy full of my pups.”
“Mmm, oh fuck, Paul, oh fuuuck” when he finally penetrates the tight barrier and his hot tongue invades your sensitive cavern, the burning knot between your hips gets tighter. Paul moans at the feeling of your delicate walls and though the vibrations of his doing so shakes you to your core, you cannot help but greedily wrap your legs around his head to both stay in place and withstand the pleasure.
“Oh, God, Paul, ’m so close!” Your voice is a breathless mewl and he growls at the vulnerable sound, his cock hurting from need. “Oh, fuck” you tremble so badly that you'd collapse into the ground if your knees weren't propped up by your mate's shoulders. “Oh fuck, oh fuck” Paul’s jaw flexes against your thighs when he begins to fuck you with his tongue, one hand fumbling for your cunt before he tickles the hood with his thumb. Your back arches and you clench your eyes shut, your chest heaving as you gasp out his name.
“Tsk, tsk, mouse” his hot breath fans your sensitive folds and you can't help but whimper at the feeling of his middle finger replacing his tongue. “You need to relax.” His hand that holds your ass pats your cheek in an endearing yet condescending way and your whole body tenses up at the touch even more. “I'm gonna take care of you, baby” you cannot help but rock your hips to his finger stretching your insides out against it. “You're mine and I'll never let you get hurt again, I promise” he croons before pressing a tender kiss to your clitorial nub. “You know that, right?” He kisses the slick covered inside of your thigh next to soothe your shaking body. “Tell me you know you're mine” his possessive words make the heat between your legs to go haywire.
“I am yours, Paul” you breathlessly promise him before letting out a moan when he tickles your folds with his tongue in a praising manner, satisfaction breaking out on his handsome face at your obedience.
“Good mouse” he begins to lap at your nub and your walls tense around his finger as a result, causing for your slick to slosh from the opening and down Paul's hand. “Shh, mouse, easy now” he cooes to get you to relax because of how tightly you are clenching yourself and it only gets worse when he adds a second finger. Your hips are so tight. You are on the edge. “You're gonna let me take care of this cute little pussy, aren't you?” You whimper at the feeling of being stuffed full and being licked at the same time.
“Y- Yes, Paul!” The air is heavy with the smell of slick and the sound of him slurping your juices up.
He adds a third finger and you nearly burst into tears from the pleasure. “Oh God, Paul, I am gonna cum!” Your entrance burns from the stretch and you moan from the bittersweet discomfort. “Please, lemme cum! Wanna cum so bad! Please, please!” Your submissive side comes out because of how overwhelmed you are and Paul can cum from the fragility of your voice right here.
“Hold it for me, mouse, good girl, c'mon” you sob at his cruel denial and he closes his lips around a mouthful of your folds, soundfully sucking at the clammy skin as he speeds his hand up to practically hammer your trembling pussy into an orgasm. Your toes curl and you throw your head back, fingers tugging at his hair as you tremble violently against him. Your back arches from how his free hand pinches and twists your nipples, softly landing occasional smacks to your boobs. “Good girl. I know you can take it” his hand then comes down to massage your ass cheek to make for a better stretch. “Relax, baby” you sob out his name and he smiles against your quivering core, his cheek gently caressing the inside of your thigh to get you to loosen up a little because you are clenching so hard.
“You're doing good, mouse. So good” his lips buzz against your clit. “Take it, baby, take it” your walls twitch against his coarse digits. “That's a good girl” he praises you while continuing to stuff your pussy with his fingers, the feeling of being filled up to the brim causing for you to shake and tremble violently. “That's my good girl” his tongue licks your clit as his fingers curve inside of you to search for your sensitive bundle of nerves that always makes you let out the sweetest of melodies.
“I'm gonna— I can't anymore, Paul!” Neon shapes cloud your vision when his fingers graze your sensitive spot and he growls at the feeling of your walls convulsing around his fingers.
“Yeah, baby. You can cum now” he finally relents and you cry out from the joy. “My little mouse, give me that sweet cum” his mouth never stops moving against you and you are so overcome with emotion that you are not sure if the tears that are streaming down your cheeks are due to pleasure or pain. “Gimme it, mouse. Gimme it” his tongue is like a beast that eats you up to satiate its starvation. You cry out his name from the pleasure.
“Paul! Paul, Paul— oh god!” The tongue is too much, though it gives you everything you could ask for at the moment, you need to escape. But when you try to pull away Paul catches your hips and holds you in place.
“Now, where do you think you're going, little mouse?” There is a beastliness to his voice.
“N- No, Paul! No more—” you don't get to finish your plea because his mouth clamps down on your sensitive flesh to suckle on it in big, eager kisses again and your heart threatens to burst through your chest.
“Oh fuck” the knot between your legs tightens so hard you cannot maintain it anymore. Vertigo breaks through your hearing. “Oh— Paul!” The orgasm takes over your whole body, your mind blurs from the burst of sensation that courses through your blood and everything turns into a euphoric mess. “O- Oh God…” You tremble from the aftershock and Paul groans when he feels you squirt. He releases your hips and you fall back onto the floor, your body too weak to withstand its own weight. “O- Oh fuck…” You're breathless and your body feels like jelly. “Paul, oh Paul…” Your fingers desperately try to reach for him like you're no older than a baby and you notice that he is stroking his hurting cock because of the need to bury his knot in you, a pained expression etched across his face. “P- Paul, I am ready” though you can barely speak, your body shakes from the need to be filled up by him.
“Mouse… are you sure?” Though his voice strains from the painful need, he prioritizes your comfort over his and your heart wells up.
“Y- Yes” you try to sit up. “Fill me up, please” he needs no more encouragement after that. With a low growl, he jumps onto you and you feel the tip of his cock press against your entrance in a heated caress that makes you whine, your body even forgetting to yelp from how he pounces on you.
“I'll never hurt you again, mouse” he whispers into your ear as he buries his nose into your hair, cock throbbing between your legs. You gasp when he enters you in a quick thrust that makes for all the air to bolt out of your lungs. “I promise.” You tremble in his hold and Paul groans at the feeling.
“I know” his mouth clamps down on the mating mark upon hearing your whisper and he slowly stretches your pussy to fit around his erection that even after all that fingering is still too big for your tiny cunt. The overstimulation causes for stars to form in your vision. His cock twitches inside you and he growls, the tip of his tongue tickling your nape in need.
“That's a good girl, baby” the hand that cups the side of your face tenderly strokes your cheek. “Relax for me” when your walls finally adjust to his log-like girth, Paul grins against the mating mark. “You're doing so good for me” the thrust of his hips causes for his cock to rub against your sensitive spot and your eyes roll to the back of your head with the feeling. “There's my good girl. You take my cock so well.” He releases his bite, hips pistoning up and down between your legs as he baby talks to you and strokes your hair to comfort you against the overstimulation that makes you whine.
“Paul!” You tremble as he fucks you in slow, long strokes and you cannot help but cry out his name in need.
“I'm here, baby. I got you” he murmurs into your hair and you moan at the baritone of his voice. “Take this cock, baby, you got it” he pants as his fat cock slides in and out of you. Then he suddenly grunts and readjusts you in his hold because the position is not comfortable enough for you and he can feel it. “God, you're so perfect.”
“I love you, Paul” you murmur into his ear, your hips lazily rolling against his as you hold him tight.
“I love you more” the latter part of his sentence turns into a growl due to his struggle with the positioning and he collects your limp form in his. “And I can do this better” though he roughly pushes your bodies off the floor to head for the bedroom, his fingers subconsciously caress your back in gentle strokes to make up for how your bare skin rubbed into the floor during the ordeal. You whine from how his heavy sack puts a strain on your entrance where your bodies connect as he does so. He cooes praise and reassurance in your ear as comfort, peppering your mouth with gentle kisses.
.
The next morning when he leaves for patrol in a black tank top and some shorts, there is a shy grin on his face as he looks back at the door one last time to wave you goodbye. You blush and return the gesture, biting your lip like it's the morning after your first time with each other.
“Geez, man, not the dreamy eyes!” A groan sounds from somewhere in the woods and you gasp before ducking behind the door. Chuckles and howls follow.
The jerk brigade has arrived.
“Someone get these two a room!” You recognize Jake's voice and shake your head as you peek outside from behind your shield. “Oh, wait, they did that already!” You cannot help but snort when you see that Paul has begun to jog in the direction of the voices. “In light of how the whole town learnt all the ways in which Paul's name can be moaned last night” uh, oh. That's not going to be good. Your lover is very private and sensitive about you as it is and when someone tries to pry or joke about matters of this sort he does not appreciate it. Especially if it's his hormonal friends that he knows too well. “Paul, Paul, oh, Paul!” Your cheeks burn in embarrassment and Paul snarls before he flings his shirt off and jumps into the air, transforming into his beastly form midway and disappearing into the woods to attack the offendor.
You see the great trees shake from the tussle that you can practically visualize behind them and the encouraging howls of Paul's pack mates further confirms it. They love to get a rise out of your easily excitable boyfriend and he loves to put them in their place, being the strongest after Sam. Their crossing of each other's boundaries for the sake of fun used to concern you in the beginning but Paul himself assured you that that was just how they played and it was not coming from a bad place.
So you wait for the ferocious crowd to move further away into the jungle that surrounds your house before you walk down to the dirt road to collect his clothing with a lighthearted shake of your head. A smile graces your lips as you do so and you cannot help but graze the now covered scars that your superhuman lover gave all his love to last night.
Though it will be a while before he does, you cannot wait for him to come back home to you.
. . .
I am sorry if it sucks omg I really hope you like it <3
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all of my writing explores dark themes such as non-consent, dubious-consent, and a/b/o subjects. if any of this offends you, this has been your warning!
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CW: FORCED IMPREGNATION. MDNI 18+ 🔞
Pervert!König with a breeding kink means that you'll lay around naked all day, prepared to be bred with without your knowledge. He'll hide your underwear, forcing you to remain nude 24/7, ready to be used and toyed with. The thought of having his own children with the love of his life is almost overwhelming. He can't get the thought out of his depraved mind. He's determined to make himself a loving, large family that he can call his own, to see you swollen and large with his offspring, depending on him. He'll become toxic, poking holes into condoms before having sex with you, hoping that he'll impregnate you. He'll make it look like an accident, and you won't suspect anything. After all, what reason has König given you for you to become suspicious of him?
And when you're resting beside him in bed, allowing him to use your holes for his own sexual gratification, you won't think twice, ignoring the perverted and gross words leaving his lips. You lay there, blissfully oblivious to his perverted and selfish actions, how greedy he's become. He's more than aware that what he's doing is sick and twisted, that he's betraying his beloved. But, the sight of your stomach growing with your pregnancy is a mouth-watering sight that König wouldn't dream of erasing from his mind. 🍼