Latest Posts by f3ytal - Page 6

Why does he always cover his cute ass laughhh??

There's no way he can be insecure about it bc his smile is

✨️ PERFECTION ✨️

Also shout out to my boy lil TimTam, I would genuinely love to meet him and viiibe. He's giving stoner energy, best conversations at the party, doing the stupidest shit that gets everyone cackling 💞

Only this man can fill my hole...

I'm fine, I just have a gaping black hole in my chest that cannot be filled. But other than that,

Ofcourse I'm looking up mine and Austin's sexual compatibility after finding out he's a Leo 🤭🤭

Damn, we kinda thriving....

And after seeing those photos of him and Lily-Rose Depp... yeah can totally see why Leo's are labelled as impulsive and impatient 🤭🫣 He desires IMMEDIATE gratification and has my ass going against all logic just to make it happen bc I can't HELP IT

An Austin classic...

I'm new, so I've just found these photos.. and NEED to talk about them 🥴🥴

The way he grabs everything with his HUGE fucking hands.. face, neck, waist, hip, ass..

The first photo has me FUCKING DYING - his hand tryna inch south- !! Probably teasing her neck with his teeth- I- !!

I'm fucking devastated quite frankly ;_;

I mean...

What's more comforting than sitting on Daddy's lap 🥰

The way I would wiggle on it.. just to be a brat 🥴 Get that punishment later 🥵

Austin being a pleasure dom-- I didn't know I could be anymore infatuated.. but here we are.

"...my love, you know what to say, and I'm gonna suck, finger, fuck and shake that pussy until you do"

"You're gonna take my cock, darling, like a good girl"

ARE YOU KIDDING ME ?! Oh it PULSED when I read good girl - I'm a suCKER for praise plz Austin I just wanna be your good girl, I'll do anything... including enduring like 10 orgasms - if I HAVE to 🙄

Austin is a man that just gives, and gives, AND GIVES sumore... TENFOLD.. and I'm here for it.

No because my pelvic floor is TENSED. I'm ready, I'm waiting, I need this man on me, in me, all over me.

Thanks again @faegoddessog for the wonderful read, I could cry I need this man so much 😭

  Fantasy Come True  Ch 7/8

  Chapter 7: Confessions 

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, angst, Unprotected PiV (play safe ya'll), cunnilingus, fellatio, overstimulation, light restraint, fingering, light ass teasing (F. receiving), wee bit of delicious mind fuckery

Series Summary: Breaking into the acting world has been a life long dream. It's been tough, plus your relationship with you partner has some struggles, but who doesn't have struggles. A new guy shows up to your improv classes who seems strangely familiar. He seems rather interested in you and you feel unusually comfortable around him, like he projects calm and reassurance. Once you realize who he really is, and what he really likes... it's game on. 

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only,  here there be lemons.

A/N: This little gem is per request for the lovely and talented @purejasmine . It's been a collaborative project designed to meet her every Austin need as best I can. Here's to you darling! <clink> I hope ya'll enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed the creative process with parameters not wholly my own!!

Here is the Masterlist of this series.

  Chapter 7: Confessions 

You did, in fact, make it to his bed before morning was over, however you didn't make it out until much, much later.  Lying in the aftermath of being fucked mercilessly into the mattress, he asks about the scenes you are going to tape. You two spend a little time working on your scenes naked in bed. You have one dramatic  and one comedic. You run through lines and talk about character motivations. His insights and process are invaluable to you. Some analogies he makes are a little out there or just not familiar to you, but you take it all in. 

“What if,” he says, talking about your character's motivations, “she just wants to do whatever she is told because it’s THAT important to her. It’s not that she is powerless, but that she will do whatever she has to, even if it means giving over her power. But in doing that, she is freed to get what she wants. Y’know?” 

“No, I don’t get that, giving up the thing that she wants is how she gets it?” you say. 

“It's like dominant/submissive play, but without the sex, do you see?” he asks.

“Not really, I don’t think there is an undertone of sex in the scene,” you counter.

“No it’s not really about sex per se, but… it’s just an idea of how to look at the scene. How do you see it?” he asks, letting the Dom/Sub thing go. 

After, you entice him into the shower, kissing and washing each other. You are mostly just enjoying the closeness,  the touch of his hands on your skin and the feeling of being  pampered. 

“I’m in the mood for a movie, should we have some snacks and watch something?” Austin says as you are toweling off. 

“Sure, I’m down!” you say excited. You love to watch movies. 

Austin tells you to go pick something out as he puts together a plate of apples, cheeses and prosciutto.  You decide to watch Kingsman: The Secret Service, it’ll be silly and fun. He brings over two sparkling waters, the plate, and a paring knife.

You snuggle up on the couch with his back between your bare legs. You had never bothered putting your clothes back on, just a bra and panty set that you were super excited about finding, as they fit you perfectly, even if they were pricey. You are leaning up against the back of the couch. Austin, in solidarity with your penchant to wander the house in your underclothes, is also clad only in boxers. His long legs stretch onto the oversized ottoman. The plate is on his lap and Austin cuts pieces of apple and cheese, holding them and prosciutto up for you to nibble on. His warm body against your chest is heaven, the clean smell of him all encompassing. 

You have never felt so content, and yet a deep longing bubbles up from within.  THIS should be your everyday life. Comfortable sized home, man that adores you and loves to pleasure you, delicious food, the craft of acting and storytelling intertwined in everyday life. You let out a big sigh pushing away melancholy  thoughts of your supposed ‘ real life’.  Your fingers tangle gently with his hair, massaging his scalp, anchoring you to the here and now and the magic of having Austin’s skin on yours. 

“Mmm, I think I’m hungry,” he growls sexily out of the blue. 

“Hungry?” you glance at the now empty plate as he sets it aside,”What can I get from the kitchen for you babe, I’ll feed you  this time,” you offer. 

“That’s not what I’m hungry for, my amazing Princess,” he twists his head around to look up at you with a naughty smile, “but I'll take you up on feeding me.” 

He flips over onto his stomach. 

“Oh, should I pause?” you ask, picking up the remote.

“Oh no,” he pushes the ottoman away with his feet, “ you keep watching Angel.” He sinks down to his knees on the plush carpet. “I just need this irresistible pussy in my mouth,” he threads his arms under your thighs and yanks your ass to the edge of the couch,” right now.” His face is a picture of nearly animistic lust. 

Your eyes get big as he grabs the paring knife and swiftly inserts the blade on the fabric at  your hip. 

“Like, right now,” he pulls up, slicing through the fabric.

He answers the look of scandalous shock on your face with a gruff,  “I’ll replace them ten times over Princess,  I just can’t wait any longer to taste you.”  He does the same to the other side, his chest expanding with his needy breath, the fabric laying open to reveal your groomed vulva.

His urgency stokes a fire in your belly, your potential outrage at his destroying your underclothes sizzling into inflamed desire. You hadn’t been super wet before, when you were just cuddling, no more than your usual when you are with Austin. But when he grabbed and pulled you toward him, the buzzing down below commenced. When he cut your favorite panties from your body, you practically gushed. 

He nuzzles right into your mons, inhaling your scent, smiling. His tongue takes a big, long lingering taste of your lips. 

“Mmmggghhh, yes” he moans against you, eyes closed, “your juices are like heaven.” 

His head moves up and down as he laps at your labia, dipping in for growling tastes as his hands grip at your thighs, almost like a cat digging in its claws.  His tongue tantalizes as it draws teasing circles around your clit. His fingers pull you apart, revealing your sweet inner lips to his hungry tongue. 

Just the pressure of his fingers on your lips pulls a soft whining moan of anticipation from your throat.  You have one hand curled, fingers between your teeth. The other hand mutes the movie  letting it play on unheeded, before twirling his locks around your fingers. 

He lifts his eyes to yours.

“I want to make you cum in my mouth, Angel, but I’m going to take my time,” he says. A one sided, open-mouthed smile blooms on his wet lips and he winks. 

Something about his wink makes your breath melt away from you in a soft-voiced ‘unghgh’.  Your brows furrow together and all you can do is nod in agreement as his ocean eyes glimmer at you from under his long lashes. Your fingers tighten inadvertently in his hair. You feel as much as hear the little chuckle of amusement he gives against your pussy as his lips meet yours. 

Long and lightly he drags his tongue up then sucks at your clit just as lightly. It’s so soft as to be almost a tickle, but one that leaves you desperate for more. Luckily, he is here for the eating of your pussy, and willing to give you as much as you want.  

He continues his long, slow licks ending in suction on your clit until the sounds you are making and your hand fisting in his hair are clear indications that you need more.

He pushes his long finger inside you. He moans at how wet you are, how hot, how tight. 

He slides his coiling finger out and in, licking your clit lightly. 

You are sure there will be teeth marks left on your bottom lip when he closes around your clit, sucking you into the vacuum of his mouth. 

He falls into a slow rhythmic pace of licking and sucking and shifting his finger in and out with a delicious little curve of his fingertip. All the while, his soft vocalizations of pleasure drift up to your ears.  The wet smacking sounds of his suction off your clit drives you wild. He is unhurried, like he could do this for the rest of time. 

You try to inhale a big breath, but it catches up in short,  little pants. Tingling tightness loops inside you with every drag of his tongue, every immersion of his digit, every wet and sloppy sound as he sucks at your nub. 

Slowly you climb that ramp like a click-clack of a roller coaster, every moment bringing you closer to that plummet into ecstasy. Then you are there, on the cusp. Falling, falling, falling, and  he keeps his measured pace of feasting at your cunt. Your body goes tight, eyelids fluttering, vagina clamping onto his finger. Little grunts shake your body. 

Spurred on by your climax,  he pulls his finger out and buries his face in you, fingertips wrapping under and digging into your thighs. His mouth sucks greedily at your entrance, not wanting to waste a drop. 

His hips are pumping against nothing, his deep moans vibrating against you, heightening your orgasm. He looks up with dark eyes, face messy. You watch as his wet finger disappears into his mouth and he sucks all your juices off it. 

“Do you want my cum, Princess,” he says low, looking for all the world like a feral predator. 

“Yes, ple-,” is all you get out before he stands up, pulling you with him. His mouth closes over yours in a hard, salty kiss, you don’t even notice that he has turned you around in the process. 

“Far be it from me to deny my Princess what she wants.” He says against your lips. His rock hardness is pressed against your belly, you don’t remember him taking his blue boxers off. Still a little dazzled from your orgasm, you reach out to stroke him, but he grabs your wrist. 

“Now, now,  if you want it, you’ll do as I say,” his demeanor suddenly changes entirely. He seems taller and more commanding.  Your eyes narrow for a second, wondering what he’s playing at, then you recognize the line from the scene you had been working on. 

“And if I don’t?” you ask in quiet defiance, pulling out your character and the next line.

“Oh”, his look has a tinge of evil in it, ”I assure you, you’d prefer to follow my directions, Pet,” he adds the nickname to the line. 

“Now,” he lets go of you and leans back away from you, “turn around.” 

His voice and the serious look in his eye, make you lose your breath just a bit. You turn your back towards him, pressing your thighs together, still sensitive from his oral ministrations.

“Bend over,” his words are neatly whispered in your ear, “all fours.” He isn’t pulling lines from the scene now, just commanding you. Clearly he is thinking about his earlier point. 

You hear him sit down on the couch, or would if you hadn’t been gulping so hard. Why did just his tone make you clench?

“Open up further, I want to see,” you hear from behind you.

You step your knees apart.

“Wider,” you feel a finger tip brush your inner thigh, it’s like electricity zig-zagging  to your core. 

“Push those gorgeous hips back.”

You do, in sort of a puppy pose with your back arched. You feel so deliciously exposed to him. 

“Oh, that IS a pretty pussy,” he says almost to himself, then louder, “open it up for me.”

Balancing on your left arm, you reach between your legs and use your fore and middle fingers to spread apart your labia. His spit is beginning to dry on your outer lips. However, the glistening of your inner lips betrays to him how much you are turned on by being told what to do. 

‘Now, “ a little rasp of desire sneaks into his voice, “finger yourself.”

Suddenly, you feel unexpectedly hesitant, like this is pushing you out of your comfort zone for some unfathomable reason. You are fine touching yourself, even fine doing it in front of him, but there is something about being so vulnerable bent over and exposed. You are stopped in your tracks, trying to figure out why you feel this way out of the blue.

“Do you still want my cum?” you can almost hear his eyes narrowing in his voice. 

“Oh lord yes, Austin,” your tone boarding on begging. Just his name out of your mouth is scintillating. His words snap you out of your hesitation. 

You feel his thumbs hold you open, his finger splayed out over your ass and hips bones. 

“Then finger yourself,” he insists. 

You move your middle finger to slide slowly through your wetness. 

“Yes,” he breathes, “just like that. God that is beautiful.”

After a couple minutes, he leans his body over your back, his breath hot on your neck.

“Do you trust me, Pet? “ his hips tuck forward. His hard dick nudges almost lazily against your crotch.

“Yes,” your voice wavers slightly. You stop your finger movement.

“Are you sure?” you can hear his sexy smirk. You twist to look over your right shoulder at him, and are met with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The little dimple that appears over the left corner of his mouth evaporates any equivocation. 

“One hundred percent, Austin,” you give in totally. 

“That’s my good girl, my sweet Pet,” he croons sweetly in your ear. “Keep fingering yourself,” his tone back to demanding as he moves back to watch you. 

As you slide inside yourself again, rubbing over your clit.   You smile at his words, at being his good girl. 

He is petting the back of your opening, pulling at your wet, pink inner lips. You feel his finger sink in next to yours. He moves in opposition to you, when you go in he pulls out, and vice versa. Fuck, the extra friction is so good. 

Then he pulls out and up and  you feel his wet finger drag unexpectedly over your asshole. It makes you jump forward.

“Tch, I thought you trusted me,” he admonishes, grabbing your hand.

“I do, Yes, I do” you pant, “ I just…oh!” you feel his tip nudge again against your wet pussy. He gives you no time to finish your sentence. 

“Good,” is all he says as he slowly pushes in. “Ohhhh,” he lets out his breath in a long low groan. Your hand lingers, playing with his balls as he sheathes himself fully. 

His wet thumb returns to your asshole, just placed there no rubbing, no teasing.  You are still a little nervous about what he might do, you aren’t really into things in your butt. But you DO trust him, you remind yourself.  

At this angle his cock feels long, prodding your cervix, making you groan. 

“Do you want it, beautiful Angel?” his deep reverberations are almost hypnotic, “do you want my cum inside you?”

All you want is for him to fuck you into next week, but he just stays still, dick in you deep, thumb on your ass. 

‘I do, yes, give it to me baby, please,” affirming in all the ways you can think of in your Austin-addled state. 

“Give?” he questions with an incredulous smile, “ Oh no, you have to come get it, my sexy little cum slut.” The fingertips on his free hand push you slightly forward, then wrap around the front of your hip bone guiding you back. Once you get the gist he takes his hand away. 

 You can’t help but move on him. 

“That’s it, pretty Princess,” his voice is hot caramel pouring over you,”fuck it out of me.” 

Your breath leaves you with an ‘oh fuck’ as his words incite a sexual riot in you. 

On all fours, you rock back and forth in front of him, along his length. As you rock on his cock, you rub your asshole against his thumb. It’s unexpectedly good. So good, you let go being jumpy about your ass. Your body wants what it wants.

“Oh look at you,” his sexy voice rolling over you, “so greedy for my cock, so starved for my cum, and it's only been a couple hours.” His breath huffs from him in rising passion, ”grinding your ass against my thumb, all hot and wanting. Fuck you are mesmerizing, Princess.” 

He starts to lose his own control, unable to stop thrusting into you. “You make me so… fucking… hard. I just want you all the damn time.”

You are moving in synchronicity, his cock in you and you back on his cock.  His thumb is giving you that glorious friction, your fingers on your clit; it’s a whirlwind. A veritable tornado of friction, desire, perfect mind-fuckery and magic; Austin Butler magic. 

Your pussy clenches hard around him. 

“Oh fuck, that’s good,” he groans.

You hear yourself moaning loud Uhhghh’s and Ohhhh’s as you undulate in front of him. You jerk forward involuntarily as your orgasm hits you hard. 

 Austin’s hands clamp down on your hips, riding you down. There is no way he isn’t filling you with his cum now, no matter how long it takes.

 Groaning into the upholstery of the ottoman, you continue to be pounded from behind. He simultaneously holds you down and spreads your cheeks with his hands. Fucking hell, at this angle he is triggering all your buttons and you keep cumming. It’s so good. 

He sounds feral behind you.  The moans hissing out through his teeth become deep chested growls that become open voweled groans as he fucks you harder and harder. Sweat drips onto your back. 

You are losing your mind. Your fingers, trapped under you,  are twitching against your clit, you want to stop them, but just can’t quite get them to still. 

Finally he pushes in deep, muscles straining. All sound frozen in his lungs, until his deep growls and groans of satisfaction make their exodus from him to wash over you. His hips jerk pushing him just that much deeper as he empties into you. 

“I guess,” he pants just behind your ear, “I gave it to you after all.” 

“I love it,” you just barely stop yourself from saying ‘I love you’. 

Still in you, Austin rolls onto his side, clinging to you like you are the only refuge in his personal storm. You curl up in the cradle of his arms. Taron Egerton is cleverly, yet silently, kicking ass on the TV, although you are both too blissed out to give it any mind.  

When you wake up from dozing some time later. When had you fallen asleep? You find that you have rolled over in Austin’s arms to face him. He is petting your hair and holding you to him. He has a weird look on his face, like conflicting thoughts are running through his mind. Once he sees your eyes on him, he smiles big.

“Good nap?”

“Oh lord yes,” you stretch and sit up. “I’ll be right back,” you stand up, but Austin grabs your arm. 

“I mean it,” he blurts out. The words clearly by passing his conflicting thoughts and going straight to his mouth. 

“What do you mean, Austin,” your brow furrows slightly. Your hand automatically cradles his face. 

 “I meant what I said, when we were…” his eyebrows lift, conveying his meaning for him, “I want you all the time, I want you here, to stay here,  to be with me always.” 

“What?” you are dumbstruck by this sudden confession.

“Move in with me, be mine,” his hand covering yours on his face.

Your heart jumps in your chest. It’s like every dream you’ve ever had is being plopped into your lap. You blink once, twice, unsure what to say or do next. Then your bladder reminds you why you got up in the first place. 

“I need,” you gesture towards the bathroom,”be right back.” 

Sitting in his beautiful little powder room, you attempt to absorb this new information. You had literally been thinking about wanting this life. The fires of hope that spring in your heart are quickly doused by your practical mind.

 ‘Is this stable? Is it smart to leave all else behind and move in here?’ it asks. Fucking fuckity fuck. You look at yourself in the mirror.

“God dammit,” you whisper to yourself, knowing you can’t ignore her, as much as you want to.  As much as you hate it, you rely on your partner financially right now and that is, if not a satisfying life, a safe one.  Your sense of self preservation insists that you make sure this isn’t some two month infatuation that will leave you in the cold. 

As you walk back into the living room in nothing but your bra, Austin is sitting naked on the couch with his head in his hands.  The TV is off. 

You sit down in front of him on the ottoman. 

“Did I just ruin everything?” he asks, still looking at the floor. 

“Huh?” you ask, not expecting him to sound so emotional.

“I asked you to move in and you walked away,” he says looking up at you, the shadows of abandonment flitting across his face, fearful tears shining in his eyes. 

“Oh Austin, darling,” you take his face in your hands, “I just needed to pee and clean up and think for a second. You didn’t ruin anything.” You kiss him tenderly on the forehead. 

He blows out a big breath, trying to regain his composure. 

“Before you say anything, no matter your answer,  I need to tell you something, ok?” he states.  You nod.

“Remember when I told you before I was falling for you? Well, that was sort of a lie,” he admits.

Your heart falls into your stomach without warning. What the hell is going on? He wants you to stay, but as what? Just his convenient tight pussy? Someone whom he can control by ‘taking care’ of them. Would this just be out of the frying pan and into the fire? Heat rises up your tightening chest. ‘I will NOT cry when he tells me it’s a fling,’ you tell yourself resolutely. You are usually so positive, but the idea of Austin lying to you about falling for you is like a punch in the gut. You brace yourself with a big breath.

“It’s a lie because I’m already so far gone for you. I am so in love with you, my Princess,” his eyes are pleading that you’ll hear his  truth, “I know it’s not been that long, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life, like I’ve just been waiting for you this whole time.” 

His words stop your internal destructive narrative in its tracks. That was NOT what you expected him to say. The look in his eyes is like a release valve for your breath. In a flash you realize you almost fell into your own trap, the one you’ve been cycling in for over a decade. 

“Oh” is all you can get out. Your mouth is trying to say words, but you are caught, in his eyes, in his hands, in his heart. You finally recover a little from your shock. 

“I love you, Austin,” the words simply slipping past anything else you thought of saying, “I’ve wanted to tell you so many times.  I love you, Austin, oh god how much,” your words tumbling out before you can stop them. 

Relief floods his face, he pulls you in. His kiss is intense. You had no idea what he had been holding back, until suddenly, he is holding nothing back. It’s like a wave of adoration and affection washes over you as he kisses you and holds you in his arms. It’s so hard to describe, like light flooding into your cells. 

He breaks the kiss and crushes you to him. 

“So you’ll stay?” he says eagerly. 

“Babe, I don’t know.” you are on the verge of tears from the yo-yo of emotions.

“What?” he responds almost incredulously before he takes a second to gather himself back in again, terrified his tender heart will get trudged upon. “Ok, what don’t you know,” he says much more calmly. 

“Do you know why I have stayed with him?” you say matter-of-factly,” Security. No, he isn’t a great lover or even a good partner, and sometimes he is an outright asshole. But I know he won’t leave me in the cold as I try my hand at this acting thing.” You ignore the counterpoint of you leaving him, but at least he won’t be in the cold, he’ll just be getting the partner he deserves. Which isn’t you. Austin is the one who deserves all your love and devotion, your thoughtfulness and caring. FUCK, how can you you say no to him, but how can you simply say yes?  How can you make this right in your head! 

“I would never leave you in the cold Princess, I am offering you security as well as everything he isn’t giving you and more.  Please,” he pleads. Even begging with unshed tears in his eyes, he is so utterly beautiful. 

“Oh god, this is hard,” you mutter to yourself, looking up at the ceiling, trying to control how topsy-turvy your emotional world just got. 

“I know, I know Austin. Please hear me when I say that there is literally no one else on this planet that I would leave for, only you. It’s always and ever only been you. It’s… “ you grab his hands, ‘no… you are everything that I want and so much more.” 

Tears spring to your eyes, knowing what you have to say next. 

“I’m sorry I can’t give you the answer you want, the one I want, not yet anyway. And I do want to, my darling, I do. I want to scream yes and go back there, gather my stuff and just walk out. The idea of this being my home, of YOU being my home? It’s intoxicating and almost scary in how perfect a dream it is.  But my practical side just won’t let me. Austin, you have to understand, I have to be sure.  I have to know that this is forever, that this,” you gesture back and forth between you, ”can provide me some stability before I drop that safety net. Once I leave him, I can’t go back and I have nowhere else I can go.” 

Miraculously, Austin is nodding, “Ok, I - I hear what you are saying. I can understand that point of view. It’s a big thing to ask of you.” He ponders in silence for a moment, gears turning in his head. “If I can prove to you, beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am committed to this, that your security and stability matters as much to me as it does to you, will you?”

“I would do it in a heartbeat, I want nothing more in the world, than to be yours mind, body and soul, Austin” you say, sniffling. Geeze, usually you aren’t this emotional.

“Okay, ’he nods again, “okay love, that gives me some hope to go on, something I can work towards.”

 “Something we can work towards,” you correct him. “I love giving you control over me during sex, this,” you push his hand between your legs, ”truly is your pussy, my mouth,” you kiss him, “is only for you now. But, if we are really going to go down the relationship road, I don’t want it to be based on ‘ownership’ like that. I want a partnership, where we can be of equal, if different, support for one another. I want to take care of you as much as you take care of me, y’know what I mean?”

Austin is nodding at you, his hand still pressed to your crotch. 

“I love that and I love you, my Princess,” he pulls you into his lap, wiping an escaped tear from your cheek. “It feels so good to actually tell you. I was holding it in, not wanting to scare you away.” His arm closes around you, cradling your head against his naked shoulder. 

“Austin,  how could your love ever scare me away,” you snuggle in close. 

You press his hand back between your legs, suddenly craving him, craving the comfort of sexual contact, of what you DO know, what you ARE sure of:  that his body was made for you, and yours for his. 

“Please,” you whisper in his ear, “I just want you inside me.” 

He turns towards you, brushing his cheek against your lips. “Are you sure baby?” 

“Austin Butler just told me that he loved me, yes I am sure,” you smile at him, biting your lip. 

He brings his fingers to his mouth, capturing your eyes with his. His wet fingers stroke your labia.

“I DO love you,” he presses in lightly, finding your own wetness already gathering there. 

His fingers stroke you, playing around your clit. 

“And I want you,” he pushes his finger inside of you, ”to be mine...” You moan low as his thumb lazily arcs, tracing the archway of your clit. 

…forever,” he whispers in your ear. 

You melt, you pool, you ooze. You are, in this moment, almost willing to say ‘fuck security’ and never leave. Almost. 

When you cum in his lap and on his fingers, it’s to his whispered voice in your ear repeating over and over, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

You straddle his leg to face him on the couch, gathering his face in your hands. 

“I love you Austin Butler, I love you, I’ve always loved you,” now that you have no qualms saying it outloud, you can’t seem to say it enough. 

Arms around his neck you press your lips to his, and your pussy to his leg. He flexes his muscular thigh, which pushes right up into your wet folds. You groan slightly into his mouth. His hands are on your hips pulling you towards him, then pushing you away. Your wet pussy laying down strings of slick on his skin.

It’s like some door inside you unlatched and you are suddenly horny as hell.  His sexy gaze on you and his tongue unconsciously wetting his gorgeous full bottom lip before capturing it in his teeth. His hands guiding you on him. You get so close to cumming as you ride him. You finally climb off him, panting, heart racing, unsure of what you need next to get you there.  The look you give him is so sexy and utterly debauched.

“Oh hunny,” he rumbles, “C’mon.”

He stands and pulls you into a deep kiss, takes you by the hand, walks backward to the stairs. He guides you up the first step. Now, even with his height, he kisses you again. He begins forcing you, with intense kisses, to take steps backwards up the stairs. His hands are on your breasts and your ass;  grasping, rolling, kneading. Your hands are all over him, outlining muscles, fingertips in the light hairs on his chest, rubbing his nipples with the pads of your thumbs. 

Suddenly you sit hard on the bed, you hadn’t even realized you were in the bedroom. 

“Back up and spread those legs, my Princess,” his breath is shaky trying to control his desire for you. “You are fucking incredible and enchanting,” he crawls up your body,  until he is croutching above you like a predator over its kill. “I just can't ever get enough of you, my Angel. You drive me crazy in the best ways possible.”

If you were wearing panties, they’d be ruined. After this, the bedspread may need to be replaced. 

“And in case you are wondering,” his eyes and voice so full of desire, “I’m going to bring that pussy, my pussy, to so many orgasms tonight you won’t be able to walk right tomorrow,” he kisses you hard, pushing himself inside you.

He spends the entire evening and into the night making good on this promise as though it were the first step in proving just how serious he is about keeping you. You cum on his cock as he steadily thrusts into you. He cuddles you sweetly, kissing your forehead, letting your heart rate calm down. Until his hand finds its way to your crotch. You cum on his fingers as he stares deep into your eyes. He holds you tight, nibbling at your neck, kissing your sternum as it rises and falls.  He pulls your nipples into his mouth, sucking them one, then the other. He showers your belly with kisses, growling just a little as he does. Now he is settling between your knees, his tongue dipping greedily into your wet snatch. You cum on his tongue as he laps you into oblivion. 

You beg for his cock in your mouth. You suck his tip as he strokes his own shaft. You hold his base in your left hand while your right, seemingly of its own accord, plays with yourself.  It’s like you just can’t stop. As his hot milky seed spurts onto your tongue, you twitch and swallow, jerk and swallow, cum and swallow. Moaning deep as you lick up every fucking drop of his cum like it’s the nectar of the gods. 

After every orgasm, your body searches for more, you just can’t get satiated. And each time, he waits until you come down from your peak before ramping you up again. 

Late that night, you are floating in a surreal cloud of oxytocin and dopamine, time meaning nothing. Austin has you bent over the bed, your wrists are in the small of your back. His long fingered hand is wrapped around them, using them as an anchor point as he slams into you. You had begged him to go hard and deep into you and never stop.  Maybe, if he fucks you hard enough you might be done. You are moaning on the end of his dick. 

“No, I need…” you moan as you twist one hand out from his grasp. 

“What do you need, my Princess,” he pants out. 

“Over,” you twist your spine, flipping on to your back, legs wide. 

He plunges right back into you. You moan. There’s no reprieve for the wickedly horny. His hands are wrapped around the tops of your thighs, thumbs digging in. 

You hold up two fingers, his tongue licks up the pads then over, sucking your fingers and swirling his tongue. You withdraw your wet digits and press them between you.  Your clit feels huge, engorged as your fingers brush it. Your voice breathing out little yeses as you draw the invisible sigils that you know will get you there. 

He watches you. His brows furrowed together, mouth hanging open in a little ‘oh’. This is so much better, being able to see him.  He is panting, sweating, straining, doing everything in his power to make you cum yet again.  Good lord he is so unbelievably sexy, and he loves you. The thought strikes you, hard.

Suddenly the tinder catches, fire shoots deep into your core as you clench around him, erupting into flames that envelop your pelvis, your spine, your chest  up your neck and into your brain. 

 “Fuck yeah, that’s my girl!” His voice is deep, almost harsh as his hips snap harder, faster back and forth.  

You are jerking on him, your orgasm filling you, just as you expect he is going to with his cum. You remove your fingers only to have them replaced with his, light and fast rubbing side to side on your sensitive nub. 

“Nonononono!” you scream hoarsely, pushing uselessly at his hands.

“Oh yes, yes,” he says through clenched teeth.  “My pussy is getting the works tonight my love, you know what to say and I’m gonna suck, finger, fuck, and shake that pussy until you do.”

You realize he has lulled you into a comfortable cycle of orgasm, come down, relax, then back to orgasm. Now his beautifully evil plan unfolds, and you are so unbelievably sensitive. 

You try wriggling away from him, but his hand is clamped down on your thigh as he keeps fucking you. Your eyes are squeezed shut, it’s overwhelming, but oh so good. In a flash he is gone, for a split second there is nothing touching you, and your eyes shoot open, trying to breathe. Then his mouth closes over your pussy. Your breath is gone again as he pulls your clit into the vacuum of his mouth.  His tongue is merciless against you. Your hips vibrate, your hands grasp his hair. Your screams fill the room, you can’t even hear the sloppy suction of his mouth on you.

“ SS… SSS… No,no, no! STOP!” you finally cry shaking your head. He rises, immediately grasping your pussy in his large hand, shaking it, keeping you writhing. 

“No, I won’t my love, you know that,” his voice is so smooth and relaxed. The palm of his hand pressing and shaking your mons. 

Your orgasm rocks you again and again. Again and again you beg him to stop, but never use your word.  You have backed yourself up to the headboard in an effort to get away from his hands, his fingers, his mouth.  But in the next second,  you are pushing against it and towards him. Your body and mind are locked in conflict; it’s too much, it’s not enough. You are pushed so far into pleasure you don’t know how much longer you can stand it. At the same time, you never want him to stop.

“Ok Princess,” he says, getting on his knees, lifting your ankles to his shoulders,”I’m gonna fuck my sweet little pussy until I cum. Until I’m satisfied.”   His grin is nothing short of devilry as he slides, long and hard, inside you. Your body is responding without your consent, attempting to plank on his shoulders to get away from his cock. 

“Oh no you don’t, “ he pushes your hips back down, impaling you once again, “you are gonna take my cock, darling, like a good girl,” he admonishes.

He leans down, your legs sliding down his arms, your knees close to your armpits. He grabs your arms near the elbows pinning you down like a frog on its back. You can’t push him off, you don’t want to, not that your body is listening to you. It’s insane how fucking maniacally good it feels to be so overstimulated. He slides in and out experimentally in this new position. Fuck, he is deep as he slides right into your g-spot. 

Oh. Holy. Fuckballs. 

You grit your teeth, shaking your head ‘no’. 

No to him. 

No to yourself. 

You refuse to say the word until he orgasms again. You want to hear what a good girl you are, you want to be his incredible Princess, you want to take everything he can give you. 

He rails into you, grunting, growling, moaning; sounds he knows drive you wild.  You had no idea that being held down like this would be such a fucking turn on. No idea that you could feel this good for this long. You are about to give in, scream the word. When he pulls out of you and pumping his cock with his hand, spatters your pussy and your belly with thick, creamy cum. His panting groans fill the air,  his sweat drips onto your legs. You think you are home free, until his palm starts rubbing his cum into your pussy in circles.

“What a good girl you are, taking my cock so deep” he croons at you. “You want more?” He slips his finger in you, “I’ll keep going Angel, my sweet love.” 

You can’t believe he still has the energy to keep going. His thumb falls onto your clit and you just can’t anymore. 

“FUCK!  Sushi!” you cry out once.  You are fucking worn out. Your whole pelvis is buzzing and  sobs start shaking your body in an effort to process the whole fucking thing.

He stops instantly and gathers you in his arms.

“Shh, darling. My good Princess. I’m so proud of you, my good girl, my love,” he says softly against your temple. 

He is fucking amazing. 

He holds you, messy and sweaty, until your heart rate slows and your breathing evens. He holds the bottle of water as you drink, then takes you to the shower. You sit on the little bench, trying not to pass out. He cleans and dries you both quickly and tosses the ruined bedspread off the bed before tucking you into the sheets. He covers you  with a blanket he pulls out from his closet  and turns out the light. He climbs in behind you, warm body pressed against your back. 

“Good night my love. I love you,” he whispers into your ear.

“Mmm, my Austin, love you,” is all you can get out before sleep claims you.

Your eyes flutter open in the morning and you are absolutely relaxed. The revelations of yesterday slide into focus. Austin is in love with you. Austin wants you to stay with him, forever. Austin plans to show you how much your stability matters to him too. It’s like the pieces of your real life are sliding into focus and that fake unhappy life is melting away. When you think about living happily ever after with Austin, you are calm and  completely happy. Austin is breathing heavy and even behind you, still deeply asleep. When you  get up to use the bathroom you find you are definitely sore, but it’s the best kind of sore you have ever been. When you snuggle back against Austin, a little smile creeps over his face.

Stoopppp that's so hiimmmm

I can imagine him saying it with his voice all low and rough- quiet with a hint of embarrassment 😌

Edging him until he’s completely delirious and when you tell him to “say the magic words” he accidentally says “I love you”

I love when he's all smiley and cute and then he LOCKS IN and Austin the playboy model returns 😂

Good Morning Austin Girls!

Theme 915: my knees are so severely damaged but if he looked at me like that I'd be on them so fast...

GMAG! Tag List:

Sometimes tags work sometimes they don’t!

If you want to be added to the tag list, please send me a message.

@ilovemycrayons @blurredcolour @dre6ming @slowsweetlove @pennyroyalcreep @austiebuttbutt @lisathewife101 @jojam10 @crackerbarrelslut @katsukis1wife @purejasmine @feral-fae-writes @eliseinmemphis @klizzie93 @scarlet-sunsets @austinbutlermischief @dazzledbycarrie @sunset-striptease-too @chasingwildflowers @kctj82 @alikaheroes @xanatenshi @b-bradshaw @armoredbutterfly93 @auvis @ifuckindontknow @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @thenatallie @cynic-spirit @daffieapple @flowerchild-1991

He's a Tall Drink of Water and I'm in the Scorching Desert 🥵

Actually me rn:

Life Update:

I Love Benny Cross...

Wait, have I already mentioned this? 🤔 Maybe probably.. W-well atleast it's official now 🥺

Thinking about this man before getting ready for my last night shift because I need him intimately.. in all the ways... thankyou 🥰

I mean technically I'm crushing on Austin Butler because that man would ACTUALLY treat me right but Benny is a good second 😂

Had to do my Boy Benny..

Benny is very middle of the line for me because he is just so simple...just lots of angst, and I wish him the besstttt but my guy also needs to pay for his consequences- EHEM, Leaving Kathy.

Also if I'm going off the urban dictionary definition for chew toy... then yes Benny is my chew toy. Emotionally unavailable... buut physically vERy AVAILABLE.

Also on the line with Bwnny having trauma... maybe he does maybe he doesn't, I mean for sure there's a little trauma from being in the gang and losing your friends - but Benny surely has trauma previous to that with the way he acts... IDK could just NATURALLY be an arsehole haha

Unapologetically Feyd

Unapologetically hot

Don't change. Just get more Feyd

How do you see him? @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @austinbutlerslovers @f3ytal @faegoddessog @houserautha @sandwormrp @peageetibbs-ab @mystra-midnight @seraphicsage @vikingsbifrost @arianatheangel-girl @thefloatingpickle and anyone else I forgot while making this post very quickly with kids who want to steal my phone again... - I believe some of you may have very different views 😘

From this amazing post:

https://www.tumblr.com/bitegore/699154290016649216?source=share

Perfect Song for Austin 🥰✨️

Good Morning Austin Girls!

Theme 914: smooth operator

GMAG! Tag List:

Sometimes tags work sometimes they don’t!

If you want to be added to the tag list, please send me a message.

@ilovemycrayons @blurredcolour @dre6ming @slowsweetlove @pennyroyalcreep @austiebuttbutt @lisathewife101 @jojam10 @crackerbarrelslut @katsukis1wife @purejasmine @feral-fae-writes @eliseinmemphis @klizzie93 @scarlet-sunsets @austinbutlermischief @dazzledbycarrie @sunset-striptease-too @chasingwildflowers @kctj82 @alikaheroes @xanatenshi @b-bradshaw @armoredbutterfly93 @auvis @ifuckindontknow @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @thenatallie @cynic-spirit @daffieapple @flowerchild-1991

Me being arrested for loving Austin Butler too much

I WENT A BIT DOOLALLY

Stooopppp he's so fucking cute 😭

This is all I need... honestly my life would improve with this man ten fold.

Self-respect DOWN THE DRAIN.

Feminism DOWN THE DRAIN.

My loved ones be like:

My response:

Plz understand my humour is fucked and I did infact spend 5 minutes laughing out loud at work at these gifs...

The first night shift is always the worst - I'M GOING A BIT DOOLALLY

autumn boyfriend austin butler 🍂🧣☕️

Have to agree with you on that....

FUCK

Honestly, though, I'm more so fantasizing about who he'd be at the end of the movie... in his overalls, with an actual job BECAUSE WTF DOES HE DO FOR WORK DURING THE FIRST 2 HOURS OF THE MOVIE????

Anyway, I digress..

Benny needs a good slap basically - a wake up call in the form of a slap- but a SLAP nonetheless.

Fuck I love him so much GOD WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME TO LOVE USELESS SEXY MEN. Genuinely my last partner had no job (LIED ABOUT IT TOO BTW)

AND

To make things worse

WAS OBSESSED WITH MOTORBIKES....

WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK.

Anyway rant, do apologise

“You’re so funny” yeah thanks;

I have a hyper fixation on a heartless prick with a cheeky right hook, who smokes cigarettes more than he breathes and would take great pleasure in leaving me with no regard for my feelings wbu?

My Crazy Ass Everytime I See this Man:

With deepest regards to @feydspet - thank you for pointing out the sources of more bts shots of this delightful delicious damming man that is named the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

Stunningly beautiful

Streamlined

Rock star of the movie

Moves like a dancer

It makes you walk differently

It changes the way you breathe

It makes you feel alive

A podcast

Austin is wonderful to work with and just has the perfect body

Full video:

@f3ytal

4 hours into my night shift and all I wish was that THIS MAN was waiting for me back home

...all wrapped up in bed 🥺

...having trouble sleeping because I'm not wrapped up in his arms 🥺🥺🥺

Anyway I've been scrolling through Bumble for the past hour and have been finding some seemingly DECENT gentlemen, so hopefully I'll find someone soon to satisfy my raging hard on for Austin Butler 😂

Getting some Elvis vibess... some Benny vibesss... not doing too bad with my matches rn 😂

Need more BTS footage of Feyd 🥵🙏🏻🙏🏻

A Feyd related question

Does anyone known the source of this pic/video?

It's not from this scene below. Note btw how much he first looks at her at awe, being impressed. And how about shot later he is filled with urge and desire...

You and @psycheetamore are fucking

ON IT!!

It's not even been TWO DAYS since the trailer dropped and we're getting FED --- FEASTS !!!

I will be reading this as soon as humanly possible but I just gotta thankyou right this instant.

Y'all are the best. Angels sent from horny heaven, giving us BLESSINGS---MIRACLES EVEN.

Seeking Salvation

Label Mature 18+

Summary spiritually broken, lost, and living in a world turning to chaos, you seek refuge at Peak Ranch, where the charismatic cult leader Vernon Jefferson Peak takes you as his chosen one, stripping you to your core to rebuild you as his own.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut ❤️‍🔥 Cult leader x curios girl •temptation• ulterior motives• brainwashing • persona splitting • chosen one •isolation • indoctrination• celibacy •sacred union • body worship • talks you though it •nipple play•clit play• fingering • stretch fingering • simultaneous stimulations • multiple orgasm denials• squirting• p in v • lotus pose • devine orgasm • cream pie •after care

📖 Proof readers / plot consultants @peggyao3 @eternal-love ✨ Inspo multiple DMs comments & requests ☺️ made this from seeing nine seconds of a trailer clip.

Seeking Salvation

You were never one to follow blindly. Restless, curious, always chasing something just out of reach, that was you.

You lived in a place where everyone had a plan for you, their voices a chorus of shoulds and musts that drowned out your own.

You were always, too defiant and sharp-witted with a heart guarded just enough to survive, and when the weight of their expectations pressed in, you left.

You left in search of your purpose, your meaning in life, only to discover the world was just a bigger cage, lined with obligations and responsibilities.

You sought solace online, scrolling through endless social media content seeking something that resonated in a sea of voices. 

That’s where you first found Vernon Jefferson Peak. 

His words were clipped from a speech about  freedom, rebirth, shedding expectations. It hit like arrows, piercing the armor you’d built.

You’d watch his videos late at night, your phone glowing in the dark, his voice a quiet storm that stirred something deep. 

He wasn’t like the others, peddling quick fixes or hollow promises. He spoke like he saw you, like he knew the ache you couldn’t name.

In those clips, he was striking, his messy blonde hair, and handsome features expressing so passionately, but it was his eyes that drew you in. Blue and intense, like they could see right through the lies. 

You’d pause the screen staring a him, wondering what it’d be like to feel that gaze in person.

You weren’t a follower, not yet, just curious, drawn in to the way he seemed to be both dangerous and divine, a paradox wrapped in white shirts and casual suits. 

Your curiosity led you to one of his gatherings, a makeshift auditorium filled with restless bodies. The world outside was unraveling, masks, lockdowns, fear, but here Vernon Jefferson Peak was a beacon, a voice in the chaos of uncertainty.

As you gather among a sea of countless others you feel your pulse quicken with anticipation, a spark of something raw and real, like you’re teetering on the brink of revelation. 

You linger at the back, your fingers pulling at the edges of your sleeves, caught between curiosity and unease, as your heart races with the promise of finally seeing those blue eyes in person.

You’re not here to become one of his followers, you just want to see him, to know if the man matches the myth.

The stage is bare worn wood, with an orange and yellow backdrop spreading like rays of sun, with a single spotlight that seems to bend toward him, as if even the light can’t resist.

As Vernon steps forward, the crowd goes still. His sandy blonde hair is messy and long, falling to his nape in soft, defiant waves.

His blue eyes are a paradox, calm yet searing, like a sky hiding a storm, his full lips and strong jaw framing a face that feels both angelic and dangerous.

His white shirt beneath his matching blazer hangs loose, unbuttoned just enough to reveal a glimpse of ink, the edges of wings expanding across his chest.

At the hollow of his throat, a small tattooed happy face stares out, jarring in its simplicity against the intensity of him.  He is untamed, physical perfection to behold, but it’s the impact of his aura, that truly holds your captivation.

“The world teaches you fear,” Vernon says, his voice a low, velvet cadence that weaves through the air like whispered truth. “Your leaders teach you guilt.” He steps to the stage’s edge, peering out. “Your body is uncertain, weary, carrying the weight of those expectations. Your pain is not a coincidence. We are not a coincidence.”

His blue eyes find yours immediately in the crowd. Not wandering, not by chance, they find you pinning you in place, and you’re unable to look away.

In that moment, you feel seen, not your face, not your clothes, but the raw, hidden truth beneath your skin. The truth you’ve spent years burying.

You find him just after the crowd has started to disperse. He’s standing at the edge of the stage, tall and still, his white shirt open at the collar beneath his white blazer. He’s mesmerizing, not just in how he looks, but in how he commands the space around him.

His gaze meets yours and he doesn’t quite smile, but his eyes… they admire you. Not in a way that feels performative or polite but in a way that feels deep, private, like he’s seeing something you didn’t even know was there.

You hesitate before you step closer. “I wasn’t sure if I should come over,” you admit, your voice low, uncertain. “But I wanted to thank you, the things you teach really resonate with me.”

He studies you for a moment, then tilts his head just slightly. “I know the look in your eyes.” He confirms his expression shifting still unreadable, but slightly softer. “You’ve been living in pieces, haven’t you? Never fully allowed to be whole.”

The words strike you deeper than they should and your eyes widen.

“I don’t know how you…” you trail off, suddenly unsure how to explain the way his voice touches places inside you that no one else ever has.

He steps closer, his presence quiet but absolute. “You don’t need to explain,” he says gently his eyes lowering to your heart. “You just need to explore what’s already there… what’s been aching to be found.”

He looks back up and your eyes lock, his stare is calm, unwavering… hypnotic, reaching into you with nothing but his presence.

He leans in slightly just near your ear, his voice low and intimate. “Come to Peak Ranch,” he says, and as he pulls back, something inside of you opens without resistance, like a silent agreement has already been made.

You don’t intend to follow him, not really, but you know the invitation to join him at Peak Ranch is always there, lingering, waiting and all you have to do is ask. 

The weeks blur as the world outside becomes sharper, crueler. Lockdowns begin, news flashes scream mandates, pandemics, hoarders empty shelves, offices shutter, schools close, and hospitals overflow.

It feels like doomsday the way panic spreads so widely, and as the fear of the unknown seeps in and the world is thrown into chaos, you finally choose to seek the solace in the haven Vernon promised.

Peak Ranch is a sanctuary sprawled across wildflower fields, with open skies, and wooden cabins, a valley of abundance hidden in the middle of nowhere. 

His followers move with purpose, tending gardens, building structures, their faces lit with something you can’t quite name…devotion… or maybe even fulfillment.

You plan to stay here, hidden from the chaos of the outside world for as long as you can, even though you don’t know how long that will be.

As the days weave into weeks , Peak ranch finds you.

You savor the simple structure, rising with the sun, sharing meals, tending the earth.

You lie in the grass midday, the blades tickling your skin, the sky above endless and free, a stark contrast to the cage of the city. 

You swim in the hot springs and lake, the pure water washing away the weight of fear, each ripple a retreat from the world’s clamor.

Here, time slows, and you breathe easier, as if the ranch itself is a safe haven carved out from the madness you no longer hear beyond.

Vernon is everywhere, a vision in white shirts or casual suits, the fabrics tailored but relaxed, his tattoos teasing at the edges of his collar. Those wings, always half-seen, remain a mystery you can’t quite unravel, their curves a silent promise that pulls at your curiosity.

He holds small sermons daily, often at dawn or dusk, gathering followers under the open sky or beneath a large wooden pavilion.

One evening, as the sun dips low, painting the wildflowers gold, he stands before the group, his blue eyes scanning the crowd as he speaks, and every time they land on you the weight of his gaze feels like a hand resting on your soul. 

“You’ve all been taught to shrink,” he says, his voice a low, velvet tide that washes over you, warm and commanding. “To fold yourselves into shapes that fit the world, to be small, obedient, afraid.” He pauses, his eyes locking onto yours, “But you’re not small. You’re vast and boundless, waiting to break free to let go of the lies and discover the truth.”

His words hit deep, stirring the restlessness you’ve carried since the ache you felt scrolling his videos. 

He makes you feel exposed, yet alive, like he’s speaking only to you, pulling back layers you didn’t know you had. 

Your fingers curl into the grass where you sit, a flush creeping up your cheeks. You want to believe him, to step into that vastness he sees, and the way he watches you it makes you think he believes it too.

He observes you with quiet patience over the next few days, like a sculptor studying stone, his blue eyes tracing your movements with a veiled intensity. 

One afternoon, as you kneel in the garden, tending rows of blooming herbs, your fingers brushing the soft leaves and rich soil, he approaches. 

His white shirt is loose, the tattooed wings peeking from his chest and his messy blonde hair catches the light like a tarnished halo as he stands over you.

“You nurture life so effortlessly,” he says, his voice low, watching you tend to the plants with care. You stand to face him, brushing dirt from your hands, your pulse quickening under his gaze.

“You’re finding your purpose here,” he says, his voice a velvet current, his blue eyes locking onto yours, like he sees every nervous spark within you.

“Yes,” you say, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest. “I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere… until now.” You admit. His eyes darken, taking in your vulnerability, his lips curving just shy of a smile, like he’s savoring a secret only he knows.

“It’s because you have a higher calling,” he conveys, his voice softer like a sacred vow. “Ive always known and I can see it inside of you just waiting to be awakened.” He confirms, his voice low and reverent.

Your cheeks flush at his words, a warmth spreading through you. His praise makes you feel special, chosen, like your right where you belong. 

You gaze up at him and a soft smile breaks through your usual guardedness. For the first time  you feel a flicker of hope that he’s the one who will finally be able to fix what has been broken all along.

At dusk, as you make your way to your cabin, you spot him sitting barefoot on the edge of his sprawling porch. His sandy blonde hair catching the last rays of the sun’s glow, as his blue eyes track your every step across his ranch.

You wonder what goes on in the mind of a man who seems so untouchable by anyone, but the weight of his stare makes your heart race with questions you’re not ready to voice.

The next morning, when he summons you to his study, you can already feel the shift, like a current pulling you under, drawing you somewhere deeper where you won’t return from the same.

His study is austere, steeped in the faint scent of jasmine and sage. His shelves are lined and filled with leather-bound books of philosophy, and ancient texts. 

Handwritten journals lie in uneven stacks on a side table next to novels marked with his name.

The high steepled windows let in slanted light, casting shadows across his large oak desk piled high with books.

The room feels instilled with his presence, every object a piece of his carefully crafted enigma.

He gestures you to sit in a velvet chair, the deep fabric soft under your thighs, and he rests a hip against his large oak desk, staring at you. 

His blue eyes are soft but unyielding, his messy blonde hair falling slightly over his face as he tilts his head to study you.

His voice is smooth and steady as he speaks, each word intentional. “You’re carrying something that’s holding you back,” he finally says, leaning forward, his fingers steepled like a prayer. “What is it?”

Your throat tightens, your hands knotting in your lap, finally forced to face it.“I—I don’t really know how to say it,” you confess.

He tilts his head, the happy face tattoo on his throat shifting with the movement. 

“You don’t have to say it perfectly. Just say it from here.” He reaches out, his fingers pressing your chest, just over your heart. “It’s here, isn’t it? Heavy. Like a stone.”

You swallow, his touch anchoring you as much as it unravels you and his eyes search yours, his fingers pulling back, leaving a warmth that lingers.

Then he waits, expectant, unmoving until finally the silence breaks you.

“I-I’ve always felt… wrong,” you admit, the words forcing their way out. “Like I’m not good enough. Like I’m failing..at my life at whatever I’m supposed to be doing… at even just being me….”

He nods slow and deliberate. “That’s not yours,” he says, his voice a quiet blade. “That’s what was forced upon you. Your shame, your memories, your fears … your pain ……they’re chains.” He says as his finger moves to your temple, faintly making contact. “You were never meant to be who they told you to be. Let me show you who you are beneath this skin.”

Your breath trembles. His words aren’t just words they’re a current, pulling you under.“How do you do that?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

He smiles, a flicker of something warm, almost tender. “By letting me take what was once yours.”

You want to ask what he means, but his gaze holds yours, those blue eyes a tide you can’t resist, and the question dissolves. All you can do is nod, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and longing.

The next day when you are moved from your cabin into Vernons main ranch it feels like crossing a threshold, a shift from self discovery into something deeper, more binding.

The ranch is vast, a haven of blooming meadows, and boundless skies, but in the main compound, in Vernon’s inner sanctuary it’s different.

You’re given a room on the second floor near his, simple but intimate with a single window overlooking the valley and a canopy bed draped in white linens.

Living with him brings structure and discipline something that makes you begin to feel both favored and ensnared.

He begins teaching you one-on-one, his philosophies unfolding in private sessions that blur the line between guidance and submission.

He isolates you slowly, praising your unique potential and pulling you from the group, assigning you tasks only to him, organizing his journals, tending to his personal gardens.

“You’re different,” he says, his fingers lingering on your arm as he hands you a book of his notes. “You see in me what others miss.” His praise fills you and makes you crave his approval, and you start to measure your worth by his words.

He controls your environment, limiting outside news, framing the world beyond the ranch as a place of “falsehoods” and “distractions.” “The world wants to keep you in fear,” he says, his voice sharp as he paces the study. “Here, you’re boundless. What do you need from out them that you don’t already have?”

You nod, your mind softening, the ranch feels much safer than the chaos you left.

As the weeks wear on, you become devoted, hanging on his every word, his philosophies reshaping your thoughts.

You don’t notice how he’s rewiring you, how your old self, sharp, and skeptical, fades under his gaze.

He starts hinting at a deeper union, his words laced with promise. “To be one with me, is to be initiated, to be broken and remade.” he says on a night where you sit beneath a giant oak, its branches casting shadows in the moonlight, “It is the final step to freedom.” He says as he looks over at you.

Your throat tightens, a mix of awe and fear. “What does it mean… to be broken and remade?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

He smiles, slow and knowing, his fingers tracing your jaw. “It means you give me everything, your body, your mind, and your soul.”

You shiver, his words stripping you bare, realizing he doesn’t just want to have you —he wants your very existence. As your eyes meet, his hand slides to your neck, resting there, a gentle claim. “We’ll be together soon,” he says, his voice a hushed vow. “You’ll see what it means to be truly free.”

He chooses your union ceremony to fall on a moonless night. You walk down a long hall toward a black door, the air heavy with wax and rosemary, candles flickering along the floor like fallen stars.

At the end of the hall, you push open the door to reveal a room glowing by candlelight, its walls draped in soft curtains.

In the dimness, you make out a full-length mirror standing in the center, and in the reflection, your thin white robe hides the pulse thrumming wildly in your chest.

Vernon enters, barefoot, his white shirt open at the collar, his hair loose and wild, the winged tips on his chest spreading like a promise, the happy face at his throat a quiet taunt.

He steps behind you, his reflection merging with your own, his presence a weight you feel in your soul.

“Tell me who you see,” he says, his voice soft, encouraging.

You stare at the mirror at your own reflection now with his. “I… I don’t know.”

“Name it,” he says, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders, grounding you. “What do you feel?”

“I feel changed,” you admit , your voice cracking slightly. “From my former self.”

“Again but claim it,” he whispers, his lips close to your ear, his breath warm.

“I am changed,” you say, the words softer but certain. He nods, his fingers tightening briefly on your shoulders with approval. “Free yourself from your pain,” he says, his voice soft but commanding. “Shame your former self and watch it vanish.”

He steps back to watch, and you pour out every thing into your reflection, all your failures, your rejections, the weight of every expectation you never met. Each word feels raw and painful, but it’s unapologetically true, and as the pain shifts from guilt into release you feel like you can finally breath again.

Vernon watches you fall silent your chest heaving, laid bare, and takes the mirror, his movements graceful and methodical as he pushes it to the floor, shattering it to pieces behind its frame. The sound is jarring in the quiet, and you gasp, your body tensing.

The air becomes heavier with the scent of molten wax, rosemary, and the unfiltered silence of surrender.

The shards of the mirror glint on the floor, a chaotic mosaic reflecting your former self, broken apart to make way for the new.

“Now we can begin,” Vernon says, his voice a low vow.

He approaches you with reverence, his blue eyes locked on yours, unwavering and knowing, as if he’s peering into your very soul.

His fingers find the tie of your robe, undoing it with care, and as he slips it off your shoulders he unveils you as if you are something sacred to him.

When the fabric falls at your feet you shiver standing naked before him, not just from your body but from feeling your very essence laid bare.

He doesn’t touch you, he circles you, his blue eyes tracing your every curve with unrepressed desire.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, the words landing like a truth you’ve never felt before. “Come with me,” he says, extending his hand. “Let me take you where our union will set you free.”

He guides you to the back of the room, parting the curtains to reveal a smaller chamber within.

A woven mat lies encircled by candles, their flames flickering in the intimate setting, and he turns to you as he stands at the edge.

You watch as he reaches for his shirt, unbuttoning the fabric to reveal the full expanse of his tattoos, the wings spreading across his chest, stretching toward his shoulders.

His torso is lean and chiseled, every ridge taut with restrained power, and as his hands move to his waist, his fingers deftly untie the fabric, sliding it down his thighs as your eyes follow the motion.

His body is a revelation, long limbs, golden skin kissed by candlelight, and between his legs, his cock sways with each step, unapologetic, commanding.

Your eyes are drawn to it, the movement hypnotic, a primal pull that makes your thighs press together instinctively.

He is beautiful, not just in form but in the way he inhabits it, every inch radiating a quiet, terrifying power.

He crosses the small distance to you, his gaze never wavering, and he takes your hand. His touch is warm and laced with affectionate. “Come,” he says, his voice a low, a hymn.

He guides you to the mat, easing you down with a gentleness that defies the intensity in his eyes. “This is sacred,” he says, kneeling before you, his hair falling slightly over his face. “This is where we form our union.”

You lie back, your skin prickling against the woven fibers, your heart pounding as he settles above you.

His hands begin their work, trailing down your skin, slow and methodical.

“Your body is a map,” he says, his fingers tracing the curve of your collarbone. “Every part holds a truth.”

His hands slide lower, palms warm against your chest. “Here,” he says, his fingers pressing gently, “is where you’ve hidden your love.” His hands brush the peaks of your breasts with a reverence that makes you shiver. “You’ve been taught to guard it, but I want it open.” He says.

Your nipples harden under his touch as he circles them, slow and knowing, making a sigh escape your throat. His eyes flick to yours, reading every reaction, every sound, and you feel seen, not just your body, but the raw, aching need deep inside.

He moves lower, his fingers gliding across your stomach, pausing at your navel pressing firmly into a grounding point that makes your core clench

“And here,” he says,” is where you hold your trust.” Your breaths are shallow, your hips shifting instinctively, seeking more, but he holds you in place with a look in his eyes.

His hands slide lower, his fingers pressing into your inner thighs and parting them with a care that feels ceremonial.

Your slickness is evident, your body filled with need for him, and his eyes glint with approval. “You’re already offering yourself to me,” he says, his voice laced with veneration.

His fingers trace your outer folds with featherlight strokes, teasing you in ways that make you sigh with pleasur . “This is your sacred gate,” he says, his voice hushed as he presses a single finger against your clit, holding it still.

The pressure without movement is maddening, and your hips buck, seeking friction as a whimper escapes, but he pins your thigh to the mat, his free hand forcing your surrender.

He holds you in place pressing your clit until your body twitches as you whine for relief, then he slides his finger inside of you, slow and methodical, curling it to stroke against a ridge that makes your hips writhe uncontrollably.

His thrusts are rhythmic, hypnotic, syncing with your breaths. “Feel it more,” he says, adding a second finger, stretching you gently, his thumb brushing your clit in slow, alternating circles, the varied stimulation driving you to the brink.

You can’t hold on in your current state, the sensations too powerful, too overwhelming, like a current surging through you, and your body trembles as your thighs shake, your sounds of soft gasps and desperate moans rising like a chant.

You feel yourself slipping away as your consciousness becomes tethered to his touch, his voice, his will.

Your hips surge up against his hand as you whine and just as you reach the edge, your muscles clenching, your breaths hitching, he stops, his fingers stilling inside you pausing the intensity flowing through.

A cry tears from your throat, your body twitching, slick and aching, your core screaming for release. “Not yet,” he says, his voice calm and reassuring reveling in your desperation.

“I want you to offer more for me.” He says. The denial is exquisite torture, filling you with such an a intense need your hips rock by force, seeking relief, but he presses a hand to your stomach, holding you firmly in place, his control absolute.

You look into his blue eyes, your gaze pleading, begging, and he watches you, unyielding, until your breathing slows, your body calming despite the throbbing ache deep inside.

Then he begins again, slower, pulling his fingers all the way out to circle your clit before dipping them back inside. He does it repeatedly, alternating the depths and speed, until your hips rock against his hand and you plead to him with soft whimpers.

When he pushes in a third finger, it shocks you to your core, the fullness pinning you in place, making you unable to move.

His fingers stretch you wide, shoving in over and over again, his movements precise, scissoring, curling, and driving you to a deeper level of sensation beyond anything you’ve ever known. You choke back sobs as his thumb flicks your clit at unpredictable moments, your moans rising higher and more depraved as your body tries to lift from the mat uncontrollably

Your moans turn into high, broken whimpers and pleas, that merge together like a desperate prayer. Your need is shameless as he reshapes you, forging you into something raw and divine.

“You’re transcending,” he whispers, his breaths syncing with your own as he pulls his fingers from you again. The withdrawal causes a raw sob from your throat so helpless it sounds like it was torn from your soul.

You softly whimper feeling your core throb so painfully, and as a warm slick pools beneath you, your hands clutch the mat as if it could save you.

“Not yet“ he says his blue eyes glinting with approval . “Not until you’ve given yourself completely.”

His denial amplifies your need to a fever pitch, pushing you into a state of heightened awareness and everything feels intensified.

When he positions himself to take you, it is like reverence laced with divinity, a union of body and spirit as he settles above you, his cock heavy and hard, leaking with his desire.

“This is holy,” he says, his voice a low chant, his blue eyes locked on yours. “This is where we become one,”

He pushes into you slowly with shallow thrusts, letting you feel every inch, every pulse and your consciousness struggles to maintain, every push into you deeper for his devine claim.

Your breaths are short gasps, each one laced with a soft moan that breaks into a whimper. Every part of you is overstimulated and aware, your pulse thundering as your hips shiver trying to take his thrusts.

“Breathe with me,” he says, his voice steady and calm, guiding you back to him, syncing your rhythms together. His cock nudges your cervix with every stroke, and as your body trembles your core clenches around him, teetering on the brink of release again.

He shifts angles, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you wider, his thrusts precise hitting a spot that makes you see stars on every stroke and as your walls clench around him on the verge of an orgasm he stops.

“Stay with me,” he demands, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place and your core throbs around him, as your moans fracture into soft needy whimpers.

He thrusts in again alternating rhythms from shallow and quick, to long and deep, his hips slamming against you prolonging your pleasure for as long as he can.

Your sounds spiral, losing coherence, a cascade of breathless cries and choked sobs as you lose yourself entirely, your voice no longer yours but a primal echo of surrender.

Each thrust is a promise and a punishment, building a pressure so intense it feels like you’re consumed by the intensity.

Your body trembles uncontrollably, your slick coating your thighs as your sounds merge with his in a symphony of moans and desperate gasps.

Your consciousness fragments into a state of pure sensation, pushed beyond the limits of flesh, your mind lost in a haze of euphoria, of exhaustion, transcending the physical into a realm where pleasure blurs into divinity.

His rhythm shifts, his thumb returning to your clit, and this time he doesn’t stop. “You’re there. Let me take you,” he says, his thumb spiraling on your clit with relentless precision as his thrusts deepen, each one striking your core with devastating accuracy until suddenly you break.

You orgasm is cataclysmic, an inner-body experience that tears through you, your vision whiting out as your body pulsates, a raw, primal scream ripping from your throat.

It’s more than physical, it’s spiritually binding, you see the light, you see him, his face above you like a deity forged from pleasures you can’t name. He holds you through it, his movements steady, his blue eyes locked on yours, and in that moment, he’s more than a man—he’s a god, and you’re his creation.

Your slickness drenches you both, making every thrust wet and obscene as his cock glides through your soaked folds with a rhythm that’s profane.

His abs pull tight, muscles flexing as he holds your leg over his shoulder, his hips thrusting into you hard, each plunge driving deeper, claiming you fully and the sounds escaping his throat are so pleasurable they cause you to moan too.

His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips, bruising with need as he nears release, his cock pumping faster, his muscles flexing with strain. Then he slows, pulling his cock back, only to plunge in again at his deepest, his eyes never leaving yours.

Watching him climax is like the universe aligning, his face softening in divine ecstasy, his blonde hair falling in his face, the wing tattoos stark against his flushed skin. You pant beneath him, your body a trembling wreck, bound to him in this sacred act.

As he comes, he spills into you hit and thick his release filling up your core as your walls throb faintly unable to take anymore. His fingers splay across your stomach, grounding himself as he ruts the last few ounces into you, and his hips stutter with the force of his release.

He lowers your leg and stays close his chest heaving as his body hovers over yours one hand resting on your stomach, as if sealing what he’s given you.

Your breaths are shallow, your mind still half-lost in the haze, every touch sending aftershocks through your oversensitive nerves.

He slowly eases out of you, his cock slick and softening, leaving a warm trickle that makes you shiver.

He doesn’t pull away, instead he lays beside you drawing you closer, his arm curling around you, his lips brushing your temple in a gesture that feels both possessive and tender.

His voice is low, sated his blue eyes searching yours in the dim light. “You’re mine now,” He breathes his as fingers tighten slightly on your hip, grounding you in his words, his presence.

You nod, your throat tight, still reeling from the intensity. “ I’m yours,” you whisper, your voice raw, your body humming with the weight of what you’ve become under his touch.

The candles have nearly burned out, their wax spilling like tears, and as you lie beside him and his fingers trace your shoulder, you look into his blue eyes, and you truly want to believe in his divinity.

“You are my chosen one,” he says, his voice serene almost worshipful “Never forget who you are becoming.” He says placing a soft kiss to-your forehead.

The truth settles down like ash. Vernon hadn’t freed you. He bound you to him, to his touch, his words, his teachings. And the terrifying part is how much you want him, how much you see him as your salvation, even though deep down you know he will be your ruin.

END 🌻

🔗 Masterlist

🏷️ Always Tag Me List

@purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia @butdaddyilovehim99 @austinbutlerfly @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @lindszeppelin @abswifey @aust-een @umika @feralgodmothers @megangovier @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @faegoddessog @dunevitani @unicoo @thejoywillburnoutthepain @jessica987 @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @finley-08 @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @lovereadingfanfic @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @i5uckersblog @ughdontbeboring @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @12joeywheelerfangirl @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya @stars-remain2 @skulliecadaver-blog @jjubilee-fluff @laurenmcquilty @louisejoy86 @butlerrizz @kulturalismellektermek

Him being playful and laughing is my SALVATIOOOONNNN

The bared teeth----

The crinkled nose---

SOMEONE GET ME TO RESUS BC MY HEART JUST ABOUT STOPPED - !!

Good Morning Austin Girls!

Theme 913: this man has no right being this fine what so ever. I think he needs to pay us all in compensation. I'll take my payment in kisses

GMAG! Tag List:

Sometimes tags work sometimes they don’t!

If you want to be added to the tag list, please send me a message.

@ilovemycrayons @blurredcolour @dre6ming @slowsweetlove @pennyroyalcreep @austiebuttbutt @lisathewife101 @jojam10 @crackerbarrelslut @katsukis1wife @purejasmine @feral-fae-writes @eliseinmemphis @klizzie93 @scarlet-sunsets @austinbutlermischief @dazzledbycarrie @sunset-striptease-too @chasingwildflowers @kctj82 @alikaheroes @xanatenshi @b-bradshaw @armoredbutterfly93 @auvis @ifuckindontknow @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @thenatallie @cynic-spirit @daffieapple @flowerchild-1991

Oh dear Lord,

I'll be a good girl if you have Austin Butler do this to me,

Amen 🙏🏻

And for you sinners, I saved it in slow-mo. You are SO welcome 🥰

You can't tell me he wouldn't..

I know this man is shy but he's tOO flirty not to pull this move - TELL ME I'M WRONG !!

(lifting up her) SUNDRESS (to grope her in public) SEASON IS ALMOST HERE.

His BICEPS when he wrangles those puppies has me seeing stars 😩

I want him to grab me like that 🥺

Austin Butler does Buzzfeed interview while playing with puppies. (2022) 2/3

Austin Butler being adorable

And with that, I bid thee good night fellow Austin cretins,

Until tomorrow 😚🥰

Also I think its fair to say I'm definitely an Austin fan account now... FUCK. I didn't even have a 1D fan account as a preteen... why is this happening so randomly now at 23 😅 ANYWAY

The lip grab 😩

The way his hands are so big in comparison to his face- and this man is a BIG GUY... So HOW are his HANDS THAT BIG.

Genuinely I think he could probably hold my whole ass in his hands-and I got alotta junk in the trunk... dayum, there's no doubt-His hands were made for squeezing my ass ON GOD 😂 jkjk

ALSO WTF IS THIS FEYD FIC?!? GIMME GIMME !!

Hands Alert ⚠️

This gif gets it's own post because...

Well I'll be outright like I always am,

Those strong veined hands and long lean fingers have me fantasizing about him touching, stroking, rubbing, teasing, sinking, pinching, caressing, spanking, holding, squeezing, slapping, pushing, thrusting, thrumming, choking, dragging, grabbing, pulsing, prodding, restraining, vibrating, convulsing, undulating, every part of me 🥰

And that's just what his HANDS could do... 😩😮‍💨

Decided to get Bumble...

Doubting my abilities to find someone who will look at me like this but HERE'S HOPING 😭

austin butler being bloody and getting his ass beat is my favorite genre of austin butler

So happy that Austin didn't quit acting because the best is yet to come. He really does shine 🥰

✨️We Stan a Versatile Man...✨️ 😏

Can I just say?  

I am so proud to be a fan of this man. ☺️  I'd love to have more discussions here on my blog about Austin and his acting. 

One thing that I love about Austin is just how versatile he is with his roles.  When you look above at the comparison photos of some of his recent roles, and you think back to how his character is in each of those projects, to me, it's almost amazing to realize that we're watching the same actor!  

The way Austin is able to literally transform into so many different characters, and even have varying looks in his roles, it really does impress upon you just how talented this man is, and how we've only just begun to see him tap into the potential that he has as an actor in this industry. 

Not only are his performances versatile, but his looks in every film are so diverse and different as well!  The way he changes his voice, his appearance, his body language, and even his energy for every single role that he does is just mind-boggling to me.  Benny is in no way, shape, or form like Elvis.  Elvis is not anything like Tex Watson.  Tex is not a single thing like Major Gale Cleven.  Gale is nothing like Feyd Rautha.  The list goes on and on! 😄  I mean, when you really sit down and think about it, Austin is really something else. I love it. I feel like more and more people will come to appreciate this incredible acting skill of his that he has, the more film roles he does over the years. He really has the potential to become one of the greats that people mention through a one-name basis if he keeps playing his cards right.

 The "Eddington" teaser trailer (which released today) is only further confirmation that Austin is going to (yet again!) transform onscreen for us right before our very eyes, and I, for one, am super excited to see it, and can't wait to experience the character that he embodies next!  😁

I'd love to have more discussions about Austin and his acting/talent/work in the future here on my blog, so if you want to join and chime in to the discussion, by all means, feel free to send in an ask! 😉

I love talking about Austin and his talent/future roles.  

❤️