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faegoddessog · 2 months ago

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OOOOOOOhhhhMyyyyyyyy Gawwwwwd! I am in delicious awe. Gorgeous pictures painted with words. I love the subby Aus and the need to let the fuck go. Sexy and magical, hell I want to give myself to Kama!! Well done!!

[“You came in here looking for peace,” she said, voice gentle. “So what are you doing staring at me like you want chaos?”]

This is SUCH a good line! One of many time she calls him out.

[Kama didn’t have to lift a finger to command the room. She just sat there—legs crossed, lip gloss kissed red, skin glowing like it had been brushed with gold dust—and the world adjusted around her.]

The Vampire Vibes are so strong here! I strive to be 1/2 the woman she is :)

[“You’re beautiful when you’re trying to stay composed,” she whispered.

Then she climbed into his lap.]

UNNNNGHH *thud* I love how she plays him like a fiddle

[“No more waiting.” She pressed her forehead to his, voice low, breath shaky now too. “Let me ruin you soft.”]

Ruin you soft? Ruin you SOFT?! RUIN YOU SOFT!?! Oh my Goddess, Queen of the Night. Ruin *ME* soft, please.

Truly, this is the first Austin fic that has me lusting for the OC as well as Austin.

Day-um. Thank you!

What happens in Cannes…

AAH HE LOOKED SO FINE AT CANNES Y'ALL anyways we're going a different route!! Subby Austin. Also, I'd like to credit @movingmusically for her sinners quote in her fic that was so UGH amazing I included one of my own in here- let me know if you can spot it! kama - In Sanskrit, "kama" means desire, pleasure, love, or sex. originally i was going to name her 'karma' but this spoke to me more. about 7k i think?? also REQUESTS ARE OPEN Y'ALL

The day had gotten away from him. Hell, he didn’t even know where the hours went—all he knew was that he needed a breather. A bit of reprieve from the hustle and bustle of everything that came with Cannes: the cameras in his face, the screaming fans, and—most of all—the weight of being Austin Butler.

The incessant questions about his “Elvis voice.” The ones about the recent split from his partner.

He needed a break. A moment to feel like a damn human being again—not a headline.

So here he was, tucked into some low-lit diner called Little Next Door, where the music played soft and sultry from a speaker above the counter, something old-school and full of bass. He pulled his baseball cap down low and turned his phone face-down on the table after letting his team know he was fine.

The warm scent of vanilla and something spiced—cinnamon, maybe—wrapped around him like a blanket, grounded him. The chatter from the few scattered patrons faded into the background hum.

Then he saw her.

A few tables over. Sitting alone, like she was meant to be watched.

Her skin—dark, rich, and impossibly smooth—seemed to catch and bend the light, glowing gold in the diner's moody hue. His gaze followed the line of her collarbone to the thin, gold chain around her neck, barely-there but glinting just enough to drag his eyes lower. It dipped between the swell of her breasts, resting in the valley like it belonged there.

He swallowed hard.

His tongue swept over his bottom lip, unthinking. His gaze lingered too long. He looked away. Breathed in. Don’t be that guy.

But the damage was done.

Because when he glanced back—just to check if she’d noticed—he saw that she had. And she didn’t mind.

Her lips curved into a slow, sultry grin, like she'd seen it all before and knew exactly how this kind of night could end. She tilted her head, her gaze heavy-lidded and warm with mischief as she crooked a single, manicured finger in his direction.

Come here.

Like a moth to a flame. Like she already knew he would.

Her acrylics caught the light—long, almond-shaped, painted a deep burgundy that matched the lipstick hugging her full lips. Bangles jingled on her wrist as she lifted her wine glass to her mouth, the gold clinking softly, sweetly. She took a slow sip, her eyes still locked on his, mouth wrapping around the rim with the kind of ease that made his thoughts blur.

That was temptation in motion. And damn if he didn’t want to be tempted.

Her name was Kama.

He’d learn that after she’d already unspooled something tight in his chest—just by looking at him.

Now he was seated across from her in a worn leather booth that had seen its share of stories, none quite like this. The lamplight above them was low and honey-warm, casting golden shadows across her cheekbones, the gentle gleam of sweat along her clavicle, the hollow of her throat.

She didn’t ask why he came. She didn’t need to.

“You looked like you needed something tonight,” she said, her voice low and textured, almost purring.

Her fingers toyed with the stem of her wine glass, nails clicking softly against the crystal. That rich burgundy polish caught the light every time she moved—like blood and velvet.

“Something quiet,” she continued. “Something that doesn’t look you in the eye and ask for an autograph.”

Austin let out a breath of a laugh, lips tugging into a tired smile. “Something that doesn’t know my name before I speak.”

She lifted her gaze then. Steady. Intimate. “I know your name.”

He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. “Yeah?”

Her lips parted, tongue grazing her bottom lip as she set her glass down with a soft clink.

“Austin. Actor. Buzzin in Masters of the Air, hips in Elvis, heartbreak in Dune.” Her smirk deepened. “But that’s not what I meant.”

A beat of silence pulsed between them. Thick. His voice was hoarse when he finally asked, “Then what did you mean?”

“I mean… I know your name,” she repeated, more gently this time. “But I don’t know you. Not the you behind the press junkets or red carpets.”

Austin leaned back, eyes flickering over her—how her curls framed her face, how her eyes never flinched, how the tip of her shoe brushed against his under the table like it wasn’t an accident.

“I don’t even know me anymore,” he said, quietly.

Kama's smile faded—not cold, just softened into something quieter, more honest. “That’s the thing about becoming somebody to everyone else. You stop belonging to yourself.”

God.

That hit a little too close.

He studied her face, the elegant curve of her jaw, the way her earrings caught the gold of her bracelets whenever she shifted. Her perfume floated across the space between them, floral but grown—like jasmine and something darker underneath.

“Is Kama your real name?” he asked.

Her eyes twinkled with the question. “What would you do if I said no?”

“Still wanna know the story behind it.”

She paused, fingers ghosting the rim of her glass, eyes flicking down, then back up.

“It’s real,” she said. “My mother named me. Said I came into this world with desire written all over me—screaming until someone held me. I guess it stuck.”

Austin couldn’t stop looking at her. Couldn’t stop feeling her. The air around her buzzed like static, like thunder before it broke.

“You wear it well,” he said, and it came out low, rougher than he meant.

“I know,” she replied, lips tilting again. Not cocky—just aware. Like she wasn’t used to being doubted.

They sat like that for a moment. Quiet. Watching. Outside the diner window, Cannes blurred by—neon and traffic, a world moving too fast. But in here, the night was slower. Warmer.

“You came in here looking for peace,” she said, voice gentle. “So what are you doing staring at me like you want chaos?”

Austin leaned forward just a little, arms braced on the table.

“Because peace doesn’t wear a gold chain down her cleavage and drink wine like it’s foreplay.”

Her brows lifted, impressed. Delighted. “Mmm. So you do want chaos.”

“I want a moment,” he murmured. “Even if it ruins me after.”

Her foot slid up his calf—deliberate, slow. “Then take it.”

He shouldn’t still be sitting here.

Austin knew that.

Every instinct in his body told him this was a bad idea—the kind of mistake that left fingerprints on your soul. But there was something about her. Something slow and magnetic and heavy that made the air between them feel thick like molasses.

Kama didn’t have to lift a finger to command the room. She just sat there—legs crossed, lip gloss kissed red, skin glowing like it had been brushed with gold dust—and the world adjusted around her.

She traced her fingertip along the rim of her glass, eyes locked on him like she already had him spread open in her mind.

“You always this shy when you want something?” she asked, voice low and smoky, the kind of tone that slipped beneath the collar and curled around the throat.

Austin leaned back slightly, arms crossed, fighting the pull. “I’m not shy.”

“No?” she teased, dragging out the syllable like she was playing with it. “Then what is this? Some long game? Some slow burn?”

“I’m trying to be respectful,” he said, the words dry in his mouth.

Kama tilted her head slowly, curls falling over one shoulder. Her laugh was soft, but it cut like velvet-wrapped steel.

“Respect’s not what I’m asking for, baby.”

He swallowed, throat suddenly tight.

Her eyes trailed over him—his shoulders tense beneath that plain black tee, the way his jaw clenched every time her gaze dropped a little lower.

“You walk red carpets like altars,” she murmured, “play gods and gangsters like second skin… and you’re telling me you can’t handle one night?”

Austin said nothing. Couldn’t. His chest rose and fell in silence.

Kama leaned forward then, elbows resting lightly on the table, and the scent of her—sweet, floral, with a whisper of heat—hit him full force. Her voice dropped, seductive and blistering:

“So you play broken men for a living… but you can’t steal this pussy for a night?”

He exhaled sharply. Like the breath had been punched from his lungs.

Her lips curled. Not a smirk. Not a smile. Something darker. Pleased. Dangerous.

“You’re dangerous,” he whispered, almost to himself.

Her foot slid up the inside of his leg beneath the table, slow, deliberate. Her gold anklet clinked softly as her toes traced the edge of his knee.

“No, baby. I’m the answer to the question you’re too scared to ask.” She leaned closer, her mouth barely an inch from his. “You’re the one pretending you don’t want it.”

And in that moment, he knew—he was fucked. Whether he left with her or not, he belonged to her now.

The night outside pressed warm against them, the air humid with the scent of salt and cigarettes, a faint hum of jazz spilling from a bar down the block.

Kama walked ahead at first—heels clicking softly on the pavement, hips swaying in a rhythm that wasn’t for him but wrecked him anyway. Her silk top clung to her back in the heat, catching every amber streetlight they passed. The back was low, the curve of her spine on full display, tattooed with something small and cryptic in ink just below her neck.

Austin followed a half-step behind. Not because she asked him to, but because there was something about her that commanded pursuit.

She didn’t look back to see if he was still there. She didn’t have to.

“Where are we going?” he asked, voice a little rough, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans to stop them from doing something stupid.

“My place,” she said without breaking stride. “Unless you’ve got a better idea.”

He didn’t. He didn’t even have a thought that wasn’t wrapped in her voice, her walk, her skin, the memory of her mouth saying steal this pussy.

They crossed an empty intersection. The city buzzed low around them—cars in the distance, someone laughing off a rooftop, the distant clink of a wine glass. But for them? It might as well have been a vacuum.

At a red light, she finally stopped.

Turned to him slowly.

He almost walked into her.

She tilted her chin up to look at him under the glow of a flickering streetlamp, her mouth just barely parted. Her fingers brushed his chest—barely there, like she was feeling out the heat of his body before fully touching him.

“You nervous?” she asked.

He looked down at her—lips swollen from wine, pupils wide, her curls slightly frizzed from the night air.

“No,” he said. Then, because it felt like a confession: “Not of you.”

Her mouth curved slightly. “Good.” Then she leaned in, whisper-soft, and said, “Because once I get you inside, there’s no more pretending.”

That was the moment the switch flipped.

He kissed her.

Or maybe she kissed him. He didn’t know. All he knew was that one second he was standing still and the next he was full of her—hands in her curls, her mouth hot and soft against his, her nails dragging down the back of his neck like she wanted to mark him.

She tasted like red wine and something forbidden. Her lips moved like she knew what they were doing—sliding over his, then nipping at his lower lip like she wanted to see him fall apart right there on the sidewalk.

He gripped her waist and pulled her closer—chest to chest, heat to heat—because he couldn’t not. Because restraint had left the building.

When she finally pulled away, her lips were kiss-bruised and her eyes half-lidded.

She stepped back like she hadn’t just set him on fire. Like he was the one who should be catching up.

“Come on,” she said, her voice like honey warmed on skin. “I’ve got wine that doesn’t come in a diner glass. And sheets that feel better than sin.”

Austin exhaled, hard.

He was already following her before she finished the sentence

The door clicked shut behind them with a quiet finality.

Her apartment was exactly what he expected: low-lit, warm-toned, rich with scent—sandalwood, rose, and something vaguely edible—like cinnamon or clove. Soft music pulsed from a hidden speaker in the corner, the bass steady and smooth, like Kama had cued it up just before they left the diner.

She didn’t speak right away. Just walked further in, heels clicking against polished floors, hips swaying with the kind of ease that made him feel like his heartbeat was on a delay. Her satin top stuck slightly to her back from the warmth of the evening, the fabric shimmering like it had secrets.

Austin stood at the doorway, unsure of whether to follow, whether to wait, whether to fucking breathe.

Then— “Take your shoes off,” she said over her shoulder. “I don’t like street dust on my floors.”

He did.

Not because she asked, but because his body obeyed without question.

She vanished into the kitchen for a moment, reappearing with two glasses of wine—real glasses this time, delicate and long-stemmed, already sweating slightly from the chilled bottle.

She handed him one without a word, then took a slow sip of hers.

Her eyes met his over the rim. And then she smiled.

Not sweet. Not playful. That smile was a trigger.

“Come here.”

He stepped forward.

Closer.

Her free hand reached up—fingertips skating lightly over the neckline of his shirt before trailing down the center of his chest. Not touching. Just hovering. Like she was memorizing the heat before she let herself feel it.

“You tense,” she murmured. “Let me fix that.”

She took his glass and set both drinks on a nearby side table.

Then she kissed him again.

But this time it was different.

Slower. More calculated. She tasted him like a winemaker with a glass that cost too much to rush. Her lips moved with precision, with purpose, like she already knew exactly how he’d respond—and was checking to see if he’d last.

His hands found her hips, then her lower back, then the bare skin at her waist, and she let him—for a moment.

Then she took control.

Hands on his chest, she pushed him backward—gently, but firmly—guiding him until the backs of his knees hit the couch and he dropped into it like she’d decided that’s where he belonged.

Kama stood over him.

Unhurried. Glorious.

She reached up and pulled her hair loose, letting the curls fall freely around her face and shoulders. Then she dragged her thumb slowly across her bottom lip, eyes trained on him like he was dessert.

“Take your shirt off,” she said. And he did.

She didn’t look away—not once—as his chest came into view, muscles taut with anticipation, throat bobbing as he swallowed. She stepped between his legs, barefoot now, bracelets whispering against each other as she let her fingers trail over his shoulders, across his collarbone, down the curve of his sternum.

“You’re beautiful when you’re trying to stay composed,” she whispered.

Then she climbed into his lap.

Not with a rush—with intention. Her thighs bracketed his hips, warm and firm. She rolled her hips just once—just enough for him to feel the press of her heat through the thin barrier of their clothes. His breath hitched.

Kama leaned in, mouth brushing his ear.

“Tell me something,” she said, voice like warm syrup.

“What?” he breathed.

“Are you gonna let me ride you slow?” Her lips ghosted his jaw. “Or should I pin you down and take what I want?”

His fingers gripped her thighs. Tight.

“You can have whatever you want.”

She smiled against his throat.

“I know.”

Kama didn’t move too quickly. No, she was precise. Every motion a command draped in silk.

Still straddling him, she reached for her glass again—lifting it from the side table like she had all the time in the world. She took a slow sip, never breaking eye contact, her lips hugging the glass like a secret.

Then—she tilted the glass slightly. Held it just above his chest.

A drop of red wine slipped over the rim—just one.

It landed just below his collarbone and slid down his chest in a thin, sticky trail.

Austin inhaled, sharp.

Kama’s smile deepened.

“Messy,” she murmured. “But beautiful.”

She leaned in, mouth hovering just over the drop of wine, her curls brushing his shoulder. He could feel the warmth of her breath before her lips made contact.

Then—her tongue.

Slow. Deliberate. She licked the wine from his chest like it was her favorite flavor, chasing it with a soft moan that made his whole body tense under her.

“Mm. Better than the bottle,” she whispered. “You always taste like this?”

“I—” he choked on the word, hands tightening on her waist, “I don’t know.”

“Well,” she said, mouth brushing his, “let’s find out.”

She kissed him again—deeper now, wine-stained and open-mouthed, letting her tongue sweep past his like she wanted to drink him.

But just when his hands started to wander, slipping under the hem of her shirt, she pulled back.

“Ah, ah.”

Kama grinned, breath warm and voice teasing. “Sit still.”

Her nails dragged lightly across his abs. “You’ve been touched all your life by people who wanted something from you. But I’m not going to take anything.”

Her lips brushed his throat. “I want you to give it.”

His breath caught. “Give what?”

“Control. The ache. The way your eyes beg when your mouth won’t.” She rocked her hips slightly—barely moving, just enough to taunt. “The way your body’s screaming yes when your tongue still says wait.”

Austin’s hands slid up her back, rougher now, his eyes dark and burning.

“What if I want to give it to you?” he asked.

Kama tilted her head, smiling like the night belonged to her.

“Then say it.”

Her fingers trailed down his chest, nails dragging just enough to sting.

“Say I belong to you tonight.”

Austin stared at her—flushed, breathless, wrecked from just her mouth and her words. He’d never had someone look at him like this. Never had a woman make patience feel more carnal than rush.

He nodded slowly.

“You do,” he murmured. “Tonight, I belong to you.”

Kama kissed his neck—soft, reverent. “Good boy.”

Then she took his hand and guided it between her thighs.

“No more waiting.” She pressed her forehead to his, voice low, breath shaky now too. “Let me ruin you soft.”

He was already breathless, sinking into her couch like his bones didn’t belong to him anymore, shirt off, hands at his sides like he didn’t know where he was allowed to touch. His eyes followed every movement she made like they might be his last.

Kama straddled him—her satin top soft against his chest, her thighs bracketing his hips like they belonged there.

She didn’t move. Not yet.

Just watched him.

His pupils were blown wide, lips parted, that perfect jaw tight with restraint. She liked that—how someone so public, so in control of his image, could sit in her home like this: quiet, pliant, waiting to be told what to do.

She reached back for her wine glass.

“Open your mouth,” she said, calm and clear, like she wasn’t even asking.

Austin blinked—but obeyed. Lips parting slowly, chest rising and falling beneath her.

Kama tilted the glass. Just slightly.

A thin stream of cold red wine slipped past his lips, pooling on his tongue. His eyes fluttered shut at the taste, the contrast of the chill against the heat between them. Some of it dribbled from the corner of his mouth, down his chin.

She caught it with her thumb.

“Messy boy,” she said softly, more amused than scolding.

Then she leaned in and kissed the wine off his lips—slow, deep, sucking it from his tongue like she needed to taste it secondhand. He moaned into her mouth, hands twitching against his thighs.

She pulled back and dragged her nails lightly down his chest, just enough pressure to make him shiver.

“You wanna touch me?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he breathed, already desperate.

She leaned in, grazing his jaw with her mouth. “Then you’ll wait. You’ll sit there and be good for me.”

He swallowed hard. “Okay.”

God, she loved that. The tremble in his voice. The way he couldn’t stop watching her mouth.

She took another sip of wine, held it in her mouth, then leaned in again—this time letting it pass between their lips as she kissed him, her tongue slow, wet, claiming him with every movement.

By the time she pulled back, his neck was flushed, eyes dazed.

“Undo my top,” she said next, reaching behind her to unclip the back of it, but not moving further.

He fumbled with it—careful, reverent, his hands shaking slightly as the fabric slipped forward and down, pooling between them.

She wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

His breath caught.

Kama let him look. Let him stare. Let him ache.

But when his hands reached for her—she caught his wrists.

“Not yet.”

She guided his hands back to his thighs. Lowered herself onto his lap again. Rolled her hips once, slow and devastating.

“Good boys get rewards,” she said, mouth ghosting over his ear. “And you want to be good for me, don’t you?”

Austin groaned—low and ragged.

“Yes,” he gasped. “Yes, Kama.”

She smiled. “Then don’t move unless I tell you to.”

She watched him from above, straddling his lap like a throne, her top undone, the silk now resting loose around her elbows. The curve of her breasts—full, soft, dangerous—was right in front of him, kissed by candlelight and casting shadows that begged to be touched.

And finally—finally—she gave him permission.

“You can touch me now,” she said, her voice velvet-smooth. “But slow. Like you mean it.”

Austin moved like he’d just been told how to breathe again. His hands came up cautiously, reverent and warm, fingertips skimming her ribs first, then sweeping up to cup her breasts like they were sacred. His thumbs brushed over her nipples—gently, testing, learning what made her shift, what made her breathe deeper.

She didn’t stop him. She just watched him.

His face was pure wonder—eyes wide, mouth slightly parted, like he couldn’t believe she was real. His hands trembled a little as he explored her, slow and soft, molding his palms to her curves.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, and it sounded almost accidental.

Kama smiled—not sweet, but slow, indulgent.

“I know,” she said, and leaned in close, one hand slipping behind his neck, the other guiding his mouth to her chest.

“Here,” she whispered. “Put your mouth on me.”

He didn’t hesitate.

His lips closed around her nipple, warm and aching with need, and she sighed—a soft sound, nearly content, fingers tightening in his hair as he suckled slowly. His tongue flicked, circled, worshipped, and she could feel the tremble in his thighs beneath her.

“Just like that,” she breathed. “God, you look so pretty like this.”

He groaned into her skin, heat pulsing between them, hips twitching beneath her—but still holding back. Still obedient.

She pulled back only enough to look at him—his lips slick, eyes glassy with need, cheeks flushed.

“I bet you’ve fucked on instinct before,” she whispered, nails raking gently down his chest. “But never like this.”

He shook his head, dazed. “Never.”

“Good,” she said, rolling her hips again—slow, hard, punishing. He choked on a moan, gripping her thighs like he might break apart.

“You’ll remember me every time you try to touch yourself after this.”

And when he whimpered, God help him, she smiled.

He was shaking under her.

Not from fear. Not from hesitation. From how deeply, achingly bad he needed her.

His hands were gripping her thighs like lifelines, fingers digging into soft skin, his mouth open and breath coming in shallow, staggered pulls. Kama hadn’t let him move—really move—since she climbed into his lap.

She was still fully seated on him, her panties the only thing separating her heat from the hard, twitching length pressed against her.

She rolled her hips again—slow and torturous—and watched his head fall back against the couch.

“Austin,” she murmured, voice low, teasing, “you’re trembling.”

He whimpered—actually whimpered—and it was beautiful. His throat bobbed as he tried to pull it together, but Kama didn’t stop. She ground down again, slower this time, letting the slick friction of her body through the fabric torture them both.

“Please,” he breathed.

Her brows arched gently. “Please what?”

“Please let me—God, let me move. I can’t—I need—”

She silenced him with her fingers beneath his chin, tipping his face up so he had no choice but to look at her.

“You’ll stay still,” she said softly, “until I say you can do more than breathe.”

He groaned, long and low, like it hurt.

His eyes were wild now—glass-blown, pupils swallowing up the color. There was sweat beading at his temples, and his hips bucked once—on instinct.

She stilled instantly.

“Oh, baby,” she purred, dragging her fingers over his lips. “That almost cost you a reward.”

He whimpered again, then pressed his mouth against her wrist like an apology.

“I’m trying,” he rasped. “I’m trying to be good—fuck—please, Kama, I can’t take it.”

She kissed his forehead, slow and deliberate, like he was something fragile.

“Yes, you can.”

Then she lifted off him just enough to make him whimper at the loss of pressure.

“You’re going to beg properly,” she whispered, dragging her fingers down her own chest, over the curve of her breast he’d just had in his mouth. “On your knees.”

His eyes widened, lips parted.

“You want me that bad?” she asked, thumb brushing over her nipple, her voice pure fire.

He slid off the couch so fast it was almost pathetic—kneeling in front of her, thighs spread, hands flat against the floor, looking up at her like she was heaven and hell wrapped in one.

“Say it,” she breathed.

His voice broke. “Please, Kama. I want to touch you, I want to fuck you, I want to feel you around me—please, just let me. I’ll do anything. I’ll be good for you.”

She hummed like she was considering it, eyes trailing down his trembling form.

“Take off my panties.”

His hands moved—reverent, slow, careful not to rush—and when he peeled them down her thighs, his lips brushed her skin without even realizing it.

She smiled. He was gone.

Kama’s panties hit the floor with a soft whisper of silk.

Austin stayed kneeling. His chest was rising and falling like he’d just run through fire, and in a way, he had—straight into her heat, into her control.

He looked up at her from the floor like she was scripture.

“Tell me what to do,” he breathed, voice wrecked with want.

Kama slid forward on the couch until her thighs opened in front of him, draped over the cushions like a goddess inviting worship. Her skin glowed in the low light, glistening at the apex of her thighs, and when she leaned back, fingers threading lazily through his hair, she smiled like this was all exactly how she’d planned it.

“I want you to eat it like it’s the only thing that’s ever fed you,” she said, voice syrup-slow. “You understand me, baby?”

He nodded fast, already shifting forward, but she tugged his hair just enough to stop him.

“Words.”

“Yes,” he gasped. “Yes, Kama. Please let me taste you.”

Her fingers relaxed. “Good boy.”

He dipped between her thighs like it was the last thing he’d ever get to do.

His mouth met her slowly—tongue flattening over her with a reverence that made her inhale sharply, his hands sliding under her thighs to hold her in place, but gentle, still seeking permission in every touch.

He moaned into her like her taste broke him a little. And it did.

Kama leaned her head back, one hand gripping the arm of the couch, the other still tangled in his hair. “Mmm, just like that,” she murmured, voice low, breath catching as his tongue circled her slowly.

He didn’t rush. Didn’t try to show off.

He just listened—to her breath, her sighs, the way her body shifted under his mouth—like he wanted to learn every single thing that made her fall apart. He moved from long, slow licks to tight, rhythmic pressure, tongue curling, nose brushing her clit when she bucked up slightly.

“God, you’re so good at this,” she gasped, hips stuttering just once. “Look at you. On your knees, eating like you’ve been starving.”

He whimpered in response, the sound vibrating against her, and she tightened her grip in his hair.

“You like making me come, don’t you?”

He nodded against her, mouth still working, tongue still coaxing her closer.

“Say it,” she ordered, breath ragged.

He pulled back just enough to pant against her, lips slick with her, eyes glassy.

“I love it. I love the way you taste, I love feeling you on my tongue. Please—let me make you come, Kama. Let me have it.”

She let out a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a laugh.

“You’re gonna get it,” she whispered, hips rolling forward to meet his mouth again. “And you’re gonna stay down there until I’m done with you.”

And he did.

He buried himself in her, moaning softly with every flick of his tongue, every pull of her thighs around his head, until she came with a gasp and a roll of her hips that had him digging his fingers into the couch cushion just to stay grounded.

Her thighs trembled around his ears. Her breath came in ragged little sighs. And he stayed there—mouth still soft on her, drinking it in like the obedient mess he was.

When she finally pulled him up by the hair, he looked wrecked. Lips swollen, chin wet, chest heaving.

She smiled and kissed him hard. Tasted herself on his tongue.

“Now,” she whispered, her voice low and lethal, “you can fuck me.”

He was still catching his breath, chest slick with sweat, lips swollen from kissing and pleading and moaning into her skin.

And Kama? She looked untouched. Ruined in the most elegant way—but in control of every last tremble in the room.

She reached for him slowly, fingers ghosting over his stomach, trailing down to the waistband of his jeans, then back up again—teasing, like she wasn’t in a rush.

“Take them off,” she said, sitting back on her heels, thighs still slick and glowing with the sheen of his worship. “All of it.”

He obeyed without a sound.

Shucked his jeans and boxers in one motion, breath shallow, eyes glued to her.

When she saw him—hard, flushed, twitching slightly as he grew thicker at the sight of her already dripping for her—she let out a soft hum of approval.

“Poor thing,” she murmured, crawling back over him like a panther. “You’ve been aching for me all night, haven’t you?”

He nodded fast, eyes fluttering as her hand wrapped around him—slow, tight, twisting just enough to make him hiss.

“Words.”

“Yes—God, yes, Kama—I’ve been thinking about you since the diner, since the second I saw you.”

She kissed him again—hard, filthy, tongue claiming him one last time—then reached between them and guided him in.

Her body welcomed him like it had been made for him.

He moaned against her mouth, hands gripping her waist as she sank down onto him inch by inch, slow and unrelenting.

“Fuuuck,” he gasped, eyes rolling back.

She rolled her hips once, testing the fit, and he almost lost it right then.

“Don’t you dare come yet,” she whispered against his ear. “Not until I say.”

“I won’t,” he choked out, voice shaking. “I swear—please, please don’t stop.”

She didn’t.

She set a pace that was devastating—slow, deep, deliberate. Every grind of her hips pulled a different sound from him. Soft whimpers. Choked groans. Her name, half-prayer, half-sob.

“Look at you,” she whispered, brushing her lips over his. “You’re falling apart.”

He was. And he loved it.

His hands slid to her ass, then her thighs, trying to anchor himself, but he didn’t dare take control. Kama owned this moment. Owned him.

She gripped his jaw in one hand, forcing him to look at her as she rode him—her rhythm slow, her eyes wild, her mouth open just enough to taste the air between them.

“You like being used like this?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “God—yes.”

“You gonna come for me, pretty boy?”

“Please,” he gasped. “Please let me.”

“Then beg.”

And he did. He begged beautifully.

Whispers of “please, I need you”, “I can’t hold it”, “you feel so good, I can’t take it” spilling from his lips as she rode him harder, faster now, chasing her own release—using his body like it was hers.

When she came, she bit down softly on his shoulder, moaning his name like a secret. And only then—when her hips stuttered, when her nails dug into his chest—did she whisper in his ear:

“Now.”

He came with a cry. Not loud—but guttural, raw, like she’d reached into his soul and pulled the orgasm from his chest instead of his cock.

He gripped her like he’d float away if he didn’t. And she let him

He was still panting beneath her, mind fogged with release, heart hammering like he’d run a marathon in chains.

But Kama wasn’t done with him. Not even close.

She pulled off him slow, like silk sliding off skin, and sat back on her heels, brushing her curls out of her face. Her chest still rose and fell with every breath, nipples tight, skin glowing with sweat and power.

She looked at him—looked through him—and smirked.

“Get behind me.”

His head snapped up. “What?”

She crawled forward onto her hands and knees, arching her back, slow and fluid, like a cat stretching in the sun. The curve of her spine was obscene. Her ass round and high, thighs glistening, her center still wet and aching between her legs.

She looked over her shoulder at him, lashes low, lips parted.

“You said you weren’t done,” she said softly. “So show me.”

And just like that—he was hard again.

The ache slammed back into him with dizzying speed, but this time it came with reverence, with something more guttural.

He got up behind her, hands hesitant as they slid over her waist, gripping her hips like they might vanish.

She looked back again. “Don’t hold back.”

Austin groaned low in his throat and lined himself up, his cock twitching at the heat of her, the way she presented herself to him like a gift with a warning label.

He pushed into her slow at first—both of them gasping at the stretch, the depth—and then she moaned.

“Fuck—just like that,” she breathed, her elbows lowering slightly, ass pushing back into him. “You feel so good, baby.”

That’s when he lost it.

Still obedient, still worshipful, but now he was driven. Driven to feel her clench around him again. Driven to hear her break.

He gripped her hips tighter, thrusting deeper now—not rough, but focused—like every movement was a prayer. He wanted to give her everything.

Kama rocked back against him, moaning low, biting her bottom lip as he picked up pace. “You’re so deep,” she gasped. “That’s it. Right there.”

His fingers dug into her flesh, lips parted, sweat rolling down his neck. “F-fuck, Kama—you feel like heaven.”

And she did. She took everything. Let him lose himself in the sound of her moans, the tightness around his cock, the slick heat of her pulling him back in again and again.

“Touch me,” she demanded. “Right there.”

He reached around, fingers finding her clit, rubbing tight circles as she pushed back onto him, their rhythm filthy now—wet skin slapping, her moans rising, his voice caught between worship and surrender.

“Come for me,” she panted. “I want to feel you lose it.”

And he did. Again.

Burying himself deep, his body shaking, forehead dropping to the space between her shoulders as he cried out her name—raw, broken, devoted.

Kama came seconds later, his fingers still working her through it, her body clenching around him as she let out a sound that could only be described as holy and unholy all at once.

He stayed inside her as long as she let him.

Breathing heavy. Hands trembling.

When she finally pulled forward, collapsing onto her side, he followed—body to body, chest to her back, face buried in her hair like a man who didn’t know how to exist without her heat.

And Kama? She reached back, fingers tangled in his curls, and smiled.

The room was quiet now.

Not silent—just quiet in that heavy, golden way, like the world had been turned down to a hum.

Austin lay on his back, still catching his breath, chest rising and falling in slow, uneven waves. His skin was flushed, body spent, legs slightly trembling with leftover adrenaline.

And Kama?

She was already moving. Not away from him—but toward comfort.

She slipped off the couch, legs shaking a little, and disappeared into the next room without a word.

He blinked, trying to come back into himself, nerves still tingling, heartbeat slowly returning to baseline. It was always like this after—after something too good, too much.

But then— She returned.

A warm towel in one hand. A bottle of water in the other. And that expression on her face—soft. Whole. Still in control, but quieter now.

She knelt beside him and started gently wiping between his thighs, cleaning him with care, no hurry in her touch. He flinched slightly—still sensitive—and she smiled faintly.

“Sorry, baby,” she whispered. “I know. I’ve got you.”

When she was done, she tossed the towel into the corner, then opened the water bottle and held it to his lips.

“Small sips,” she said, brushing his damp curls back from his forehead.

He drank, eyes fluttering shut, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“Kama…”

She leaned in and kissed his temple—tender, not teasing. “I know,” she said quietly. “You did so good for me.”

He made a broken little sound in his chest and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into him like he needed the pressure to keep from floating off. She settled there—straddling his thigh now, facing him, her fingers threading through his curls.

Her nails scratched lightly at his scalp, a soothing rhythm.

“You okay?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded against her skin. “Yeah. Just… feel a little wrecked.”

She smiled. “That’s because you let go.”

And he had. Completely. For her.

She leaned down and kissed his lips again—slower now. Not hungry. Not lustful. Just… present.

“I’m gonna get us under the covers,” she said, already sliding off him. “Then you’re gonna lay your head on my chest, and I’m gonna play with your hair until you fall asleep.”

He blinked up at her, hazy and overwhelmed. “That sounds perfect.”

“It will be.”

She helped him up, slow and careful, leading him to her bed like he was something delicate. When they curled into each other under the sheets, warm and bare, she pulled him in close—his head on her chest, hand over his heart.

And as she dragged her nails lightly through his curls, she whispered:

“You were everything, baby. Every fucking thing.”

And in her arms, he finally let go—not just of tension, but of the weight. The cameras. The noise. The world.

All he knew now was Kama. And her touch. And the soft sound of her heartbeat.

Morning came gently.

Sunlight streamed through Kama’s sheer curtains, painting long golden stripes across the bed, across Austin’s bare back, across the sheets still rumpled with sweat and memory.

He lay there for a moment—awake but still. Kama’s body was curled into his, warm and slow-breathing, one of her arms draped loosely across his waist. Her fingers twitched slightly in sleep, like they were still trying to hold him close.

And he wanted to stay. God, did he want to stay.

But his phone had buzzed seven times in the last two minutes. His team—agents, publicists, assistants—all probably wondering where the hell their golden boy had vanished to after ditching the event circuit last night.

He slipped out from under her arm carefully, breath held, heart pounding—not from fear, but from guilt. From the sudden weight of what this meant. Of what it could mean if he stayed.

She stirred only slightly, brow furrowing in her sleep, but didn’t wake.

He stood at the edge of the bed for a moment, fully nude, fully wrecked, staring down at her.

Kama looked peaceful. Like last night hadn’t changed anything for her. Like she trusted the morning to be soft.

And he? He was already ruining it.

He gathered his clothes off the floor, dressing slowly, quietly, casting one last look at the bed where her silhouette still rested, bathed in gold.

His phone buzzed again.

He grabbed it, swiped away the flood of notifications, and took one last glance around her apartment.

It still smelled like her—sandalwood, spice, wine and sex. He let the scent hit him like a bruise before stepping toward the door.

No note. No kiss. No goodbye.

Just a man walking out the way he came in: wanting something real but letting the world convince him he couldn’t have it.

The flashbulbs were relentless.

Each click and pop echoed like gunfire down the red carpet, bouncing off gowns, cufflinks, and white marble. The crowd buzzed with energy—reporters shouting, fans screaming, security pushing photographers back with polite but exhausted hands.

Austin stood in the middle of it. Every inch of him camera-ready—black tux tailored to perfection, hair slicked back, the faintest sheen of sweat on his brow from the sun and the heat of being Austin Butler in Cannes.

He adjusted the cufflink on his wrist. Smiled when someone called his name.

And then— the air shifted.

He felt it before he saw her. Like a change in barometric pressure.

The crowd’s noise dipped—just a fraction. Enough to cut through the haze of flash and fabric.

Then she appeared at the top of the stairs.

Kama. Descending slowly, deliberately, like the goddess of something dangerous.

Her dress was molten gold, wrapped around her like liquid fire, the kind of couture that clung lovingly to the hips, dipped scandalously at the back, and shimmered like it was stitched with stardust. Her skin caught every last ray of sun—rich and glowing, like deep bronze kissed by honey. Her curls were piled into a gravity-defying updo, tendrils spilling strategically along her temples, a diamond-encrusted ear cuff glinting with every step.

And her face?

Unbothered. Untouched. Unfazed.

Not a twitch. Not a hitch. Not a flicker of emotion when her gaze met his—clean across the chaos of the red carpet.

But he stopped breathing.

It hit him all at once—the memory of her thighs, her voice, her breath on his neck, or the sounds she made as they both found their releases, that night.

Now, here she was.

Gliding toward him, cameras worshipping her with the same desperation he once did. And she wore it all like armor.

A publicist brushed against his shoulder. “You okay?”

He couldn’t speak. He could only watch as she came closer, and the world slowed around her. People parted without realizing it. Photographers turned their lenses like flowers to the sun.

And then— “Have you two met?”

A film exec, grinning, unaware. Holding champagne in one hand and power in the other. “Kama Devereaux, Austin Butler. Two of the most talked-about names at the festival. You’ve gotta be introduced.”

He barely heard it. Barely breathed.

She turned to him with that same quiet elegance, her eyes sharp as obsidian, her lips glossed the exact shade of sin he still tasted in the back of his throat as he felt himself twitch in his pants.

She extended her hand.

And smiled.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

#austin butler x black!reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #austin butler #Such good writing

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faegoddessog · 2 months ago

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Several Sentence Sunday

Oh my gosh! I'm all blushing rn. Thanks @xmysweetcreaturex for the tag!

Ok darlings, I'm going to treat you all to a ridiculous little bunny trail I hopped down then wrote down in Oct 2023. Needless to say that the recent Cannes Photos have me reeling.

Mellow and chill tags ifnya feel like joining in: @movingmusically @softmamawrites @peggyao3 @middlingmay

Please enjoy this little snippet:

They’d come over from the neighboring exclusive resort to listen to the live music. They are tucked into the back corner of the patio. Her light summer dress and shawl are the most clothes she's had on in a week. Her husband has light colored panama hat on, both are relaxed and enjoying the beachy night air.

Suddenly a man sits down next to her, dark and mustached. ery close. He looks desperately into her eyes. She knows who he is.

“Hide me” he whispers.

“From?”

“Paparazzi.”

Without thinking twice, she snatches the hat off her man’s head and plunks it down onto Pedro’s. Her hub moves to block them from view. She tosses her legs over Pedro's lap and pulls him in for a deep kiss.

Pedro is a little shocked at first, then mesmerized by her kiss, puts his arms around her.

She is such a good kisser, he forgets what he is hiding from. His hands start to roam her curvy body.

Foot steps run by, voices in obvious inquiry, clearly looking for someone.

A tap on her arm tells her the coast is clear.

She slowly pulls away from the kiss as does Pedro, both reluctantly.

“Thank you.” he says breathily.

“For the kiss or for hiding you?” She says with a sly smile.

“Both.”

“I have more of each, if you are interested.” she whispers in his ear.

“Sweetheart,” her husband says rubbing her arm, “should we take him back with us?”

She leans back to get a sweet kiss from him, “I’m working on it, my love.”

“Oh, I’m sorry sir, I didn’t realize… “ Pedro starts, a little shocked.

They both wave his apology, clearly unbothered.

"You wanna come with us next door, no paps there, it's a clothing optional place," she says, rubbing her hand on his arm. Does she have more than hiding in mind? Of course she does.

“FUCK!” Another man, tall and blonde sits down on her other side, head in his hands, “are they still following me? “ She recognizes this man too… what are the freakin’ odds.

“Paparazzi?” she asks, wondering where these men's handlers are.

He nods

“They won’t be anymore,” thinking quickly, she spins around leaning back onto Pedro and lifting one leg onto the couch. In one motion she flips her shawl over Austin and pulls him forward onto her. Before he can protest, her arms are around him and his face is squished against her ample chest.

“You are passed out drunk,” she whispers, pulling her long multi-colored hair over his own blonde locks, ”we’ll keep them away.”

He goes limp on her following directions like the star he is. Pedro’s face is hiding, buried in her neck. She is suddenly in an Austin Butler and Pedro Pascal sandwich. Her heart is beating rapidly. One hand on Austin’s back, the other pulling Pedro in close to her neck where Pedro can't help but plant kisses.

Peeps who may want to know! , @purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight @thisworldisntrealhoney, @1nho, @megangovier, @briaandthephantoms, @andro-inherdreamworld @callumsgirl @blombardo @fefeisastar @hacunamy @nestito702 @denised916 @jayydep @r0m4nitcl0v3r @heyidc03, @secondchild-2, @flander42 @natural-born-rebel-spirit @lecosymood @kathrynzaragoza @bsunshinexo @jayydep @ifyouloveweedletsgosmoke @peggyao3, @sunflowers-77, @estrogensensuallovegasm @ivycjl @jjubilee-fluff @psycheetamore @austinshirogane @ab4eva @movingmusically

WANT TO BE ADDEDD TO THIS LIST SO THAT EVERY TIME I POST SOMETHING NEW YOU'LL BE NOTIFIED? ☝🏼 DM me or toss it in the comments below.

#WIP game #austin butler #pedro pascal

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faegoddessog · 2 months ago

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Day 18: Street art

This is just a drabble based on this picutre.

Warnings: Mature Content 18+ only, just a mention of cock sucking, and cumming.

@dailydoseofaustinbutler has all the deets pinned for this challenge!

Here is my Master List ifnya wanna read my more indepth smut.

Enjoy!

You stepped out the back of the venue and into the New York alley needing some space from the intensity of this psychic fair. Doing this many readings in a row always made you a little too spacey. After a while it made it hard to discern reality from vision.

He was sitting, knees up and manspread, on the ground. Eyes closed and head back, bruises on his cheek. His chest expanded in the baggy blue button down. Maybe he’s taking a quiet moment from filming or he’s actually had his ass kicked out here. You look right and left. There is no one else in the alley. You stare at his face, wondering if your eyes were playing tricks on you. Him. It was fucking him.

His eyes open, feeling your stare. He smiles. You smile back, biting your lip. Your eyes land on his crotch with a hungry look. His smile turns to a smirk, knowing what you are thinking. His eyebrows raise in query, hand gesturing an invitation. You just nod. He knows what you want.

He leans back, undoing his jeans as you spread your coat on the grimy ground. He pulls out his cock and you salivate. He’s a fucking dream, it makes his long fingered hands look small. You kneel between his knees, licking your lips as if you are already asking for forgiveness.

The second you engulf him he gasps.You suck him off, right there. No words, no witnesses, just your head bobbing up and down and your ass in the air.

When he cums he fists his hand into your hair. Groaning low.

“Miss, are you ok?” his brow is furrowed in concern.

You blink and shake the vision from your head. Had you been staring at his bulge the whole time? Then it hits you, what this could mean. Well hell, it’s worth a shot.

“Oh hi, sorry,” you unconsciously wipe your finger along your bottom lip from the imaginary drool. “I was in a fog. Happens sometimes in my line of work,” you reach your hand out to him, introducing yourself.

“I’m Austin,I can understand that,” his hand feels warm and soft in yours.”I’m trying to clear my head too,” he offers the ‘seat’ next to him with a wave of his hand eerily reminiscent of the one offering himself to you.

You toss your coat down and sit next to him. Across from you the wall is covered in the criss-crossing spray paint strokes of tessellations of street art in multiple dark colors and the bright white scripted letters spelling out ‘Believe’.

“I see why you chose this spot,’ you say, gesturing to the word on the wall.

“Yeah, I’m tryin’, it’s rough though. What do you do that makes your head cloudy?” he nods his chin to the door you came out of, placing the focus on you.

“I’m a psychic,” you shrug, “my mind can get bogged down in the energies when I’m really open.”

“Fascinating,” he seemed genuinely interested, “So like you already know what I’m going to say?” he grins mischievously.

“Yeah,” if only he knew how close that was to true right now, “You are gonna say, ‘ yes’.”

It could have been the best line ever, could have been a hook, line and sinker. Instead, it was simply the truth.

He said ‘yes’ to going out for drinks, ‘yes’ to dinner a few days later, ‘yes’ to your request for a goodnight kiss, ‘yes’ to your invitation into your apartment, and ‘yes please’ as you knelt before him asking him to take his cock out. He said ‘yes’ when you asked if he had a condom. You both said ‘yes, yes, YES!’ as he pounded into you making you both cum. He said ‘yes’ to staying that night and many other nights. There were many other yeses, but your favorite by far was when he brought you right back here to this paint covered alley, dropped to one knee and made you say it.

WANT TO BE ADDEDD TO THIS LIST SO THAT EVERY TIME I POST SOMETHING NEW YOU'LL BE NOTIFIED? ☝🏼 DM me or toss it in the comments below.

#austin butler #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #austin butler smut #austin butler x reader #ddofab #creative challenge

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faegoddessog · 2 months ago

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Hello and welcome.

Please excuse the following minor chaos with lots of unscientific side comments from the peanut gallery of my brain.

I fear this particular research brings up more questions than it answers:

You’d think that pleated front, straight leg trousers (my least favorite bifurcated mens wear) would allow for plenty of space. And indeed we have tons of drape from the mid thigh down. And wow, those are some MAN POCKETS. They fit his WHOLE DAMN HAND! (You’d NEVER see such roomy decadence on women’s trousers.)

But either by accident or design, that crotch is STILL riding up on him or… wait.. Is it? Is it really? This MAY be a testament to just how bulky Mr. Happy actually is pre-growth or maybe he is just swinging in the proverbial wind.

Dear ones, after MUCH deliberation from as many angles as I can find, I can ascertain no evidence of ‘panty lines’. Either way, literally the ONLY PLACE THEY ARE TIGHT IS HIS CROTCH. Yes they HUG his backside showing off each delicious slice, but they aren’t rigorously taut.

Why then, would he choose no barrier between his sensitive flesh and these decidedly 1990’s dad pants? (for real, I was there I remember this look so distinctly) ESPECIALLY when he knows he’s heading for the photocall (this seems to have been resolved at the photo call, btw. Which came first, I don’t know) Unless, of course, he did it just for us (as stated by @austinbutlerslovers).

I find it hard… mmm hard.. No sorry, (got distracted) I find it hard to believe our shy boy would go full commando for this. It’s more likely he has boxers maybe or something roomy in the front because he is not being ‘held’ the way we normally see him, and boy are we seeing him. It's also worth noting he's also not just flip flopping around with those long legged strides. This practically proves my hypothesis that he does indeed dress to the right. At first he thinks he can hide it in the pleats, but genetics just laughs at the attempt. The heart wants what the heart wants, freinds.

(I can just imagine him seeing this and shaking his head ‘guys, I just had on my normal underwear, you freaks.’)

Regardless of motives or actual presence of ‘small clothes’, I can tell that he is not quite comfortable. Left hand slides into those generous pockets to try and adjust. Those fingertips are surely wedging in between his testes and his inner thigh. Maybe it’s itchy, balls get itchy, or just sticky? It’s the Mediterranean Coast, it’s probably humid, skin sticks to skin, it’s just natural. (Deoderant on the upper inner thighs can help, they also make products for this baby, calling on all thick thigh’d ladies to speak out!) The second hand goes in, an obvious check on the goods, (can I help you with that sir?) Is his tip being irritated by all that jouncing and rubbing? (how do men even walk… like for real it’s a mystery to me and for the record, I’m always supportive of when they have to do these kinds of adjustments, no shame babes, no shame.)

He even takes one or two very subtle steps doing the old ‘jiggly ball’ stride with the slight wide leg swing to unstick himself from his leg. Props darling one, to do it all with such casual confidence and grace , especially as each step is fraught with starts and stops of people literally in his face. God he is so deliciously cool and collected. (Does this fact make me want to see what it'll take to push him into feral and unhinged? Uh huh, you bet your grand dad's pants it does.)

All in all, I’d love to hand him a pair of MeUndies Ball Caddy or Duluth Bullpen undies, cuz although I DO enjoy the view, I don’t want him to chafe. Angel hands need to hold those goods for the sake of all our heart rates.

Other videos and posts used in the research are cited below in APA format.

Austinbulterslovers. (May 2025). He did it for us. [Video File]. https://www.tumblr.com/austinbutlerslovers/783815840154959872?source=share.

ButlerBliss. (May 2025). Austin Butler, Emma Stone, Pedro Pascal, Joaquin Phoenix and Ari Aster arrive at the Cannes photocall for ‘Eddington’. [Video File]. https://www.instagram.com/butlerbliss_/reel/DJwCqPkRdyd/.

Festival de Cannes. (May 2025). EDDINGTON - Photocall - VO - Cannes 2025. [Video File]. https://youtu.be/DcZYu-HR-fc?si=36w3fQoiDAoP3Cn-.

Thanks for coming to my TedXX talk.

WANT TO BE ADDEDD TO THIS LIST SO THAT EVERY TIME I POST SOMETHING NEW YOU'LL BE NOTIFIED? ☝🏼 DM me or toss it in the comments below.

I feel this is another video in need of @faegoddessog PhD research

#austin butler #Cannes 2025 #Presenting my research #PhD Cockversations

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faegoddessog · 2 months ago

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Day 17: 9AM

Enjoy this soft but demanding space of reclamation.

@dailydoseofaustinbutler has all the deets pinned for this challenge!

Warnings: Explicitly Mature material 18+, touching, stroking carressing. Fellatio just for her, a Unprotected PiV (stay safe loves), wee bit of overstim

Here is my Master List which includes the og 72 hrs of Bliss that these two come from. Also here it is on AO3 if you like that better.

The other new installments for this series are listed here .

Enjoy!

Austin hadn’t realized he too had fallen asleep until he noticed the cold. Eyes blinking open as the light of dawn glowed behind the curtains. He found himself devoid of covers. The mound of covers rolled away from him, he assumed to be his wife. He burrowed in behind her, big-spooning his way into the warmth. She snuggled back against him, murmuring somethin. With a contented sigh, he slips back into sleep.

When Austin woke up again it was nearly 9 AM. He hadn’t expected them to sleep so long. Clearly they both needed it. He gets up to pee and brush his teeth. As he looks at her, still conked out in the tangle of the white sheets, flashes from the day before creep into his consciousness.

Watching her tongue loll about on another man’s cock. Feeling her pussy soak his cock as she sucked Arsene into her mouth. Pounding into her and pushing him deeper. How she smiled when he kissed Arsene, like she knew he had to.

He worms between the sheets, pulling her close. His hands roam her body, lightly touching her neck here, the inside of her wrist there. He pauses for a bit, letting her drift before starting up again. He gently strokes her back, running his fingers along her spine, lower, lower, teasing the top of her crack. Her hips move, tilting back encouragingly in her sleep.

Pause.

Brushing past her nipple to trace the curve of her hip like a ski slope before swooping down and around her ass. Slowly she unfurls, every touch bringing her closer to consciousness. By the time her eyelids open, her body was yearning for him.

“Morning sunshine,” his voice low and sure, dragging fingertips up her thigh.

“Mmm, what are you doing to me,” she says with a stretch and a smile.

“You want me to stop, Kitten?” he says with a smile, but also seriously.

“No, no I do not, but I’m gonna wet the bed if I don’t get to the bathroom,” she pulls his hand to her lips for a kiss.

“I’m sorry, all I heard was ‘bed’ and ‘wet’,” his blue eyes sparkle with mischief.

“It’s not the sexy kind babe,” she pulls back the covers.

He watches her walk to the bathroom, appreciating the roundness of her ass and the cords of her strong back. God she was gorgeous.

She slips back into bed, curling herself over his lap, back to him. She wiggles just a little, getting him to resume the long strokes along her back.

He assumes that she isn’t up for sex. It only makes sense with how yesterday went, hell he wasn’t sure he was ‘up’ for it. He plays his dexterous fingers up and down her back, over her shoulder and down her arm circling back around her buttocks. He’s just enjoying being with his girl.

She loves the feel of his hands on her, soft and sensual. When he dips down around the curve of her buttock a tiny glowing particle sparks in her belly. Her back arches. He keeps up his circuit of caresses. When he gets to her ass again, he takes a moment to squeeze, pulling her cheeks apart.

She pushes off his lap. He opens his arms, assuming she is going to curl up on his chest for a nice cuddle with some loving ‘not now’ body language. Instead she uses his stomach as a pillow, wrapping her leg around his. She takes one of his hands and places it on her head. He starts smoothing her hair back while his other reassuringly strokes her back. She practically purrs, curling her hand up under his inner thigh.

He smiles, relaxing into the snuggle with his Kitten, his love, his wife. He can’t imagine a better way to start the day.

Without warning, she reaches out her tongue, the tip just barely able to reach his semi hard dick. She brings him closer and pulls just the tip into her mouth.

“Oh!” He gasps, not expecting it at all.

She lets her mouth explore the feel of him, not moving up and down, just sucking, her oral fixation taking the reins. Suckling his cock and happily drooling saliva onto his belly, she feels him grow hard in her mouth. It’s all just so soothing to her, comforting, pacifying.

He lays his head back, just enjoying the titillating feel of her mouth and the wet slurping sounds. Slowly the sensuality builds, his desire rises. Still, he tells himself, it doesn’t need to go anywhere beyond this pseudo cock warming.

She isn’t sure where this is going either, but she’s gonna follow it to it’s end. Still mouthing him like a plaything, she wraps her hand, forefinger and thumb on his shaft. Sliding perpendicular to his shaft just enough to provide different stimulation.

Without thinking, Austin holds her head and starts to push into her mouth, caught up in just how good she is making him feel. Normally she likes this, but it’s not what she wants. Clarity strikes her in this moment. His dick in her mouth isn't about him. It’s about her, about the gratification of him on her tongue. His pleasure is merely a happy by-product. She taps his hand and pulls off him with a muttered ‘uh ungh’ and a little shake of her head.

“Ok baby, sorry,” he whispers, going back to stroking her and trying to re-regulate himself.

She nestles right back down onto his stomach and gobbles his cock back into her mouth. She pulls him to the back of her tongue, filling her mouth with the smooth soft head. Slurping off him to nibble her lips over his ridge and across his little hole.

His hand flows down her spine to her ass, gripping her cheek as her cocksucking becomes more greedy. Her ass arches up into his hand as he strokes between her cheeks. She scoots her butt back to make it easier for him to reach as if suddenly she is made aware that she has other erogenous zones.

She is lost in the oral beauty of him.

He licks his finger and presses it against her rosette. He only swipes across it gently, knowing she’s bound to be sore. She moans around his cock, the vibrations causing him to suck breath through his teeth in an effort not to have a go at her mouth.

The crescendo builds and she needs more. Pulling off with a sudden pop, she climbs him like a predator. She gets only as far as straddling one leg before she finds herself humping his toned thigh. Driven by something else, something not exactly need, but more like instinct.

He groans at the wet swaths her heretofore untouched pussy leaves on his leg. He tightens it, giving her more to ride. She starts to feels wild as she grinds onto his leg. Holding his head, she licks her way into his mouth. Sucking his tongue and lips, devouring him without mercy. She nearly cums just riding his muscular thigh. She’s not been this high on him in a long, long time.

“I need that cock,” comes out more like “mmm cock” but he udnerstands nonetheless. He guides her leg over his hips. She rocks back and forth over him, rubbing her clit on the ridge of his head. He groans at her wetness. He clenches his ass, lifting his cock just enough for her to scoop him in.

Deep, god he’s in so deep with the first flush. Filling her. Her mouth opens, tongue out. Without even thinking, his fingers are instantly there. She guzzles them in, sucking first one, then two. Playing with her tongue between them, spit drips over his knuckles. She rides him, sucks him, grips his shoulders, her nails leaving crescent moon marks on his beautiful skin.

He knows he is being used and he is fucking here for it. He is in awe of her wantonness. Of how she has totally given herself over to the untamed urges he knows are seated deep in her soul.

She whines, so close to cumming but not quite there yet, or is she? Sensation overriding any goal, orgasm both here now and just over the horizon. She is stepped aside, her body taking over, no thought, no judgment put on what it wants. Feel it, take it, ride it out.

Her sounds are wild, frenzied and fucking gorgeous. He tips the pad of his thumb onto her clit and it’s all it takes. She screams around his fingers, unfettered spine whipping, hips shaking, pussy drenching. It’s mindumbing just how good it is.

He can’t, he just can’t. She is just too hot pulsing around his dick. He grips her hips in both his big hands and fucks, fucks, FUCKS up into her. The sharp lines of his face contort in the intense focus of lust and fervor.

She is frozen on him cumming and cumming and cumming as he rails into her. It’s as if, as she was using his body, he was storing up all his reactions, his lustful ardor, to let it loose all at once in a tumultuous explosion of hip thrusts and passion. He dosn’t edge, doesn’t hold back. He sprints with the monomaniacal focus to plunge into her until he splashes his cum deep inside her. To his credit, it takes longer than he realizes. Overstimulation takes over and she’s thrashing. It’s enough to take him over the edge, his milky seamen jettisons into her core with a roar.

Panting, sweating, spent but giddy, fulfilled and euphoric.

By the end, it was hard to say who had been reclaiming who.

........

This might get continued?? Don't yet know.

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#austin butler #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #austin butler smut #ddofab #creative challenge

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faegoddessog · 2 months ago

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Day 16: What a book to movie you want to see Austin play in.

Mine.

Woman in Red

Soon (ish) to be an actual novel available on Amazon! (Sans Austin, cuz like image/brand/ persona infringement) He'd be perfect for the part though....

(I know, such a cop out, but it's so so true.)

@dailydoseofaustinbutler has all the deets pinned for this challenge!

eeps who may want to know! , @purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight @thisworldisntrealhoney, @1nho, @megangovier, @briaandthephantoms, @andro-inherdreamworld @callumsgirl @blombardo @fefeisastar @hacunamy @nestito702 @denised916 @jayydep @r0m4nitcl0v3r @heyidc03, @secondchild-2, @flander42 @natural-born-rebel-spirit @lecosymood @kathrynzaragoza @bsunshinexo @jayydep @ifyouloveweedletsgosmoke @peggyao3, @sunflowers-77, @estrogensensuallovegasm @ivycjl @jjubilee-fluff @psycheetamore @austinshirogane @ab4eva

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#ddofab #creative challenge

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faegoddessog · 2 months ago

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Thanks @psycheetamore and @f3ytal for calling me and my PhD in to do this delightful research. For reference please see comment section of the og post.

What is my PhD? wellll.... Phuckology Doctor? Pretty Horny Dame? Pounded Harder and Deeper? Praising His Dick? Any apply.

The subject of our desires observation is spotted here on the corner of Rue Florian and Rue du Commandant André (bien sûr à Cannes). I can only assume that he is on his way to enjoy a meal as there is little else on this dead end street. Also, this is a hop, skip and a jump from one of the big-ass fancy celebrity hotels near the Palais.

Okay, first we see hand in pocket: Can be a sign of comfort, (though we’ve seen this in interviews when he is freakin’ tired of sitting for so long) add in his naturally rolling gait in those boots and it’s a stride that screams casual and confident. Our boy has been here and done her, um, them er this and is far less nervous than 2022.

This cream and white outfit seems to mesh nicely with what we’ve seen of Vernon Jefferson Peak. Plus, work pants and boots? Hello fancy nod to the rugged southwest.

Looking <ahem> deeper: Darling friends, we are tucked up and held close in this one. Slight roundness in the zipper region, but it’s shy today ladies. More evidence of his Grower not a Show-er status. I must note, however, that the seam seems to be rather…intimate with the boys.

I also notice that there are spots on the front of what are def a pair of Carhartt Rugged Flex relaxed fit Utility pants in Oatmilk. My initial wishful-thinking Hypothesis: man’s just got serviced and those be thumbprints.

(I volunteer as tribute)

But alas no, it’s just that this style has grommets. <sigh>

But COME ON! It could be but one explanation of the easy-breezy relaxed nature of this little snippet of his day. (again... 🙋🏼‍♀️)

The only mention I have of his belt is that I can hear the jangle of the buckle as he pops it open and the ‘vrrrrip’ of it being pulled out from the loops. (Either I’ve been a naughty girl, or I am about to be.)

Oh, and Austin darling, Mrs. Roper would like her sunglasses back.

Then there is dessert.

Mm mm, is there a better way to end than with that cake? Okay, these jeans may be relaxed fit because they HAVE to be in order to accommodate that superb rear-view (objects in mirror are closer than they appear? Haleluia!!) Mid-stride, they are pulled tight across that firm biteable rump. But at a pause they are comfy enough that the man can sit down without having that ‘my ass is too sexy for this denim’ gap, y’know? This man can RELATE to women with hips and ass and the struggle that is basic jeans technology.

In conclusion, all observable evidence points to an Austin that is comfortable, relaxed, possibly spent, and ready to do his work like only he Cannes.

We loves him. We loves him with all our heart, precious.

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Ooooowh. Happy, booty, packing, smiling, making love to the camera...

Makes me a happy fangirl

#austin butler #cannes #using my PhD

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faegoddessog · 2 months ago

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THIS is how you take care of this man. I loved this from beginning to 'end'. Slow senuailty, vulnerability, worship and honor, pleasure and care. I love how it was written with obvious intention. I also love how well the prose flowed, made complete sense the whole time. So well done and so beautiful. Brava!

With You

Synopsis:

It started with a playful comment about his ass. It ended with him beneath you, breathless and aching, asking for more. Soft, slow, completely undone. Exactly the way he wanted it.

Author’s Note:

This idea started after all the talk about Austin’s magnificent cake after the Breitling shoot. Anal play and pegging weren’t things I’d ever thought about before—but then the image of him open, vulnerable, teary beneath me just appeared out of nowhere… and stuck. I knew from the start that if I wrote it, it would be soft. Intimate. About trust as much as pleasure. I wasn’t sure I’d post it—but here we are.

This is a soft, emotional pegging fic featuring mutual pleasure, first-time exploration, and a very tender Austin.

Word Count: 3.7k

Masterlist

It started like so many things between you did—with a playful comment.

Nothing serious—just a laugh, and that look in his eyes.

You were curled on the sofa in one of Austin’s hoodies, watching him root through the kitchen cupboard, when he leaned up on tiptoe and stretched. The fabric of his joggers hugged him in ways you felt should be illegal.

You whistled low under your breath. “Jesus Christ,” you muttered, more to yourself than him. “That ass deserves its own fan club.”

He turned, a bag of chips in hand, raising a brow. “You founding one?”

You smirked. “Already the president. Monthly newsletter, exclusive photos, merch.”

Austin laughed, padding barefoot toward you.

“You spend a lotta time thinking about my ass, huh?”

You leaned your head back to look up at him. “Honestly? Yeah. It’s not just good. It’s spectacular. Like, Renaissance sculpture good.”

He knelt between your legs, gaze flickering over your face. “I’m glad you like it.”

You tangled your fingers in his hair, teasing. “Like it? I dream about it. Write odes to it in my head.”

Your free hand drifted lower, giving one of those firm cheeks a squeeze—just enough to make him jolt slightly. You grinned. “Seriously. It’s a work of art.”

He laughed, eyes dancing. “You’re a menace.”

You leaned in and kissed him, soft and slow, your hand still resting on his ass. He hummed against your mouth, smiling into it, and when you pulled back, his lips were parted and his cheeks a little pink.

“Guilty,” you murmured.

He laughed, head tipping back, but when he looked at you again, his expression had shifted. Still playful—but underneath, something else. Curious. Nervous.

“I’ve… been thinking,” he said slowly, settling beside you, his voice quieter now. “About trying something. With you. Me… being on the receiving end.”

Your teasing smile softened. “Like… anal stuff?”

He nodded, cheeks faintly pink. “I trust you. And I’ve kinda been curious. Not sure how far I’d want to go yet, but…” His eyes searched yours. “Would you want to?”

You blinked, caught off guard—not because you were uncomfortable, just because… it had never occurred to you.

“I mean…” you began slowly, your fingers still brushing lightly through his hair. “I’ve never really thought about it. Not seriously.”

His expression didn’t fall, but you saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

“But,” you added gently, “if it’s something you want—something you’re curious about—I’d try it. Of course I would.”

His shoulders eased at that, the tension dissolving into something warm. You tucked your legs up and shifted to face him fully.

“I like knowing what turns you on,” you said honestly. “Even if it’s not something I’ve pictured before… I want to explore that with you. Especially if it makes you feel good.”

Austin gave you the softest smile. “I just thought about it, and… if I was gonna let anyone do something like that, it’d be you.”

Your heart thudded a little harder. “Then let’s figure it out. Together.”

The conversation didn’t end there. It blossomed—slowly, like something tender being coaxed into the light.

Over the next few days, you kept circling back to it. Not every second, not with pressure, but with little touches of curiosity and humour. It started with a shared search on your phone late one night in bed—Austin lying on his stomach, chin propped on your shoulder, while you scrolled through blog posts and guides with wide eyes.

“Beginner’s guide to anal play,” you read aloud. “God, I’m such a goody-two-shoes, I’ve never even read one of these.”

Austin laughed softly, nuzzling into your neck. “You’re not a goody-two-shoes. Just a sweetheart.”

You bumped your shoulder against him. “Well, this sweetheart’s about to fall down a very well-lubricated rabbit hole.”

Austin grinned. “Guess we’re both about to learn some new things.”

You leaned your head against his. “Let’s do a little more reading first. I want to get it right—for you.”

He kissed your shoulder, voice low and sure. “We will.”

You eased into it together, deliberately slow. The next week, you sat side by side in bed scrolling through online shops, giggling and blushing over product names and reviews. Austin read them with that slight furrow in his brow he always got when taking something seriously—even if it involved silicone and lube.

You didn’t rush to buy anything right away. Instead, you bookmarked things. Read reviews. Compared materials and shapes. Somewhere between the clinical how-to guides and the very detailed Reddit threads, your curiosity bloomed into something warmer. More charged. You started to imagine what it might actually be like—feel like. Not just for him, but for you too.

One night, after Austin had fallen asleep beside you, you found yourself scrolling again. This time, not just guides—but videos. Real people. Real couples. Some instructional, some far more intimate. And before you could think too hard about what you were doing, you’d clicked play.

You told yourself it was research. That it was helpful to see how it worked.

But as soon as the strap-on slid into him—slow and steady, his hands gripping the sheets, her voice soft and coaxing—your breath caught.

You could almost feel it: the weight of her body over his, the way he opened for her, the way he moaned when she started to move.

Your hand drifted down your stomach without thinking. You were already soaked.

It wasn’t just hot. It was intimate. Powerful in a way that didn’t feel dominant, but connected. Like watching trust in motion. And the thought of Austin like that—his legs wrapped around your waist, his lips parted, the flush rising in his cheeks—made you ache.

You didn’t stop yourself.

Not that night.

You talked about it a lot after that. In the mornings, curled under blankets. In the bath, steam swirling around you. Over takeout with legs tangled under the table. You talked about what he was curious about, what he was nervous about, what he wanted to feel.

Trying things out was slow and sweet. The first time, it was just your fingers. You were in bed, soft lighting spilling across the sheets, his skin warm from the shower. He lay on his stomach, legs parted slightly, head turned to the side with his cheek pressed to the pillow.

You straddled his thighs, knees bracketing his hips, and ran your hands slowly over his back, just touching him, grounding him. You felt him shiver beneath your palms.

“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” you murmured, voice soft against the back of his neck.

“I will,” he promised.

You started slow—slicking your fingers with lube, letting them glide over the crease of his ass. You teased him gently, drawing slow circles around his rim. He flinched once—more from sensitivity than discomfort—and then exhaled, his whole body relaxing under your touch.

“Breathe, baby,” you whispered, stroking his thigh with your free hand. “Just feel.”

He gripped the sheets, knuckles pale, and then let go—physically and emotionally. You pushed forward a little more and felt him open for you. His mouth fell open with a low sound that went straight to your core.

When your fingertip finally slipped inside, his whole body went still.

“Oh…” he exhaled. “That’s… wow.”

You leaned forward and kissed his spine, just above the dip of his back. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It’s weird, but good. Different. I didn’t expect it to feel like that.”

You stayed there for a while, stroking his cock slowly with one hand while your finger rocked gently inside him. The way his breath hitched, the way his hips tilted into the motion, the heat radiating off his skin—you were soaked.

And more than that, you were awestruck. The way he gave himself to you. The way he trusted you.

The first plug came a few nights later—small, smooth, beginner-friendly. You’d both read the reviews, picked it together. But holding it in your hand, kneeling beside him as he lay on the bed watching you with wide, nervous eyes—it suddenly felt real.

You kissed him first. “Same rules,” you whispered. “You tell me if anything feels off.”

He nodded, shifting slightly as you knelt behind him. “I’m ready.”

You prepped him with your fingers again, working him open until he was breathing in soft, shaky exhales and his cock was hard against the sheets. Then you pressed the plug to him—careful, steady—and guided it in slowly.

He gasped when it slid past that tightest point, his whole body shuddering.

“Aus?” you said gently, hand resting on the small of his back.

He looked over his shoulder, face flushed, hair tousled. “I didn’t know it’d feel like this,” he whispered. “It’s like… pressure, but good. Deep.”

You leaned down, kissed the small of his back. “You’re doing so well.”

His cock twitched against the sheets. You wrapped a hand around him, stroking slowly as you rocked the plug ever so slightly.

His moans were soft, needy, entirely unguarded. When he came—unexpected and hard—it took him by surprise. His body tensed under yours, thighs trembling, voice cracking as he moaned your name into the mattress.

You held him through it, hands gentle, kisses slow.

Each time after that, he grew more confident. You moved to a thicker plug. Explored positions. Built up to having it in while you kissed him, rode him, sucked him off—until he was coming hard with your name on his lips, shaking in the most beautiful way.

It wasn’t just the physical pleasure. It was you—the way you touched him like he was precious. How you always asked first. The way you looked at him when he was panting and open beneath you, like he was art.

He’d never felt more wanted. More safe.

You talked about pegging a few times—how it might feel, how to pace it, what he wanted. But you both knew he’d let you know when he was ready.

The first time he asked for more—really asked—was after dinner, weeks later. He was quiet, affectionate, clingier than usual, trailing behind you in the kitchen, hands slipping under your shirt while you tidied up.

You smiled, hip-bumping him away from the sink. “I just need to rinse this plate.”

He didn’t budge, arms sliding fully around your waist, lips pressing just beneath your ear. His warmth bled through your clothes, and his voice was low when he spoke.

“I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You froze—just for a beat—and then turned slowly in his arms. His eyes were soft, a little shy, but steady.

“The plug?” you asked.

He shook his head. “You. Inside me.”

The way he said it—quiet, reverent—made your breath catch.

“I think I’m ready,” he said, fingers tightening on your hips. “I want you to… all the way. If you still want to.”

You didn’t say anything for a second. Not because you weren’t sure—but because you were suddenly so sure. And it stunned you a little. The trust in his voice. The way his hands trembled slightly against your skin. The fact that he’d waited until he was ready, and then came to you.

“I do,” you whispered. “God, baby. Of course I do.”

He smiled, relieved. Leaned forward and kissed you like he meant it.

You curled up on the sofa later, legs draped over his, laptop perched between you. Shopping together had become part of the ritual by now—but this time, it felt different. Bigger. Real.

“I want one that works for both of us,” you said, scrolling through options. “Something where I can feel it too.”

Austin nodded. “Yeah. I want you to enjoy it. I want to see you enjoying it.”

You narrowed it down to a few—some with a vibrating bulb designed to be worn internally, pressing up into you while the shaft curved toward him. Others had external vibes for your clit. Some had both. Some were sleek and minimal. Others looked intimidating as hell.

Austin reached past you and clicked on one. It was elegant—matte black silicone, dual-ended, with a bulbous end that fit snugly inside the wearer and a firm, slightly curved shaft. It came with a remote-controlled vibe feature and adjustable straps.

“That one,” he said.

You looked at him. “You like it?”

He shrugged, a little sheepish. “It’s kind of sexy. And it doesn’t look… scary.”

You smiled. “Not scary is a good start.”

He kissed your temple. “You’ll be gentle?”

You turned to face him, cupping his jaw. “I’ll be whatever you need.”

The box arrived three days later.

You didn’t rush to open it—not immediately. It sat on your dresser, untouched, until the right night found you both.

And it did.

Rain tapped softly against the windows. Dinner was simple, easy. Austin was quiet in that way that meant present, not distant—his hand resting on your thigh under the table, thumb stroking absentminded patterns against your skin.

When you kissed him after you’d both tidied up, he kissed you back like he’d been waiting all day for it. And when his hands slid up beneath your shirt and stayed there, warm and wanting, you tilted your forehead to his.

“Tonight?” you asked, just a whisper.

His eyes met yours. No hesitation. “Yeah.”

You moved together like it was instinct—undressing in the bedroom, the air already charged between you. He touched you softly, reverently, like he was grounding himself in your skin.

You slipped into the bathroom for a moment with the harness and toy in hand—just to take a breath. You took your time, sliding the toy inside yourself first, adjusting the straps so the bulb nestled deep, warm and snug. The moment it pressed against your walls, you gasped softly—already so aware of what was coming. You clicked the remote on low, feeling a gentle buzz radiate through your core. It made your breath catch as you clipped the outer shaft in place. You glanced down at yourself. The shape of it against your body felt surreal. Powerful. Right.

When you stepped back into the bedroom, Austin was already lying back against the pillows, completely nude, his eyes finding you instantly.

And oh, the look on his face.

He took you in like he was watching something sacred. His eyes flicked to the toy, to your body, then back to your face.

“You okay?” you asked gently, standing at the edge of the bed.

He nodded slowly, voice a little breathless. “You look fucking incredible.”

You climbed onto the bed, straddling his thighs. You didn’t touch the toy yet. Just him. Your fingers skimmed his ribs, his hips, the inside of his knees. He was already half-hard, flushed all over, breath shallow.

You kissed him slow, deep, coaxing. He sighed into it, body softening beneath yours.

“You sure?” you whispered.

“I’ve never been more sure,” he said.

You prepped him carefully—your fingers slick with lube, your voice soft against his skin. You worked him open like you had so many times before, slow and loving, kissing his thighs as he relaxed for you.

He was already panting when you reached for the toy.

You lubed it generously, then positioned yourself between his legs, lifting them gently until they curled around your waist.

Austin watched your face the whole time.

You pressed the head to his entrance, and he inhaled sharply—eyes fluttering, mouth parting.

“Breathe, baby,” you murmured. “Let me in.”

You pushed slowly. Every inch a stretch. Every second a prayer.

From his side, it felt like the world narrowed to sensation. The burn, the fullness, the sheer delicacy of it—his hands clenched the sheets, his thighs trembled. But you didn’t rush. You paused, waited, kissed his knee, whispered how good he was doing.

And then you slid in deeper.

He gasped under you, breath catching. “Oh my God.”

You paused, buried partway inside. “Okay?”

“So okay. Just—full. Different. So good.”

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “Tell me if you need anything.”

He nodded, already trembling.

You pushed deeper. His fingers clenched around the sheets. You could see it—how every inch shifted his world. His eyes fluttered, his mouth fell open, and you felt the toy nudge deeper into you too, just enough to make your toes curl.

He gasped, soft and broken, when you bottomed out—his breath catching, a shudder rippling through him. You stayed there, letting him adjust, letting yourself adjust too—the pressure inside you already building, your inner muscles pulsing around the bulb.

You began to move—slow, steady, rocking your hips with a gentle rhythm. The toy stroked inside him and dragged across your walls in perfect tandem. The vibration thrummed softly through both of you, deepening the ache, heightening every grind of your hips. Every thrust rubbed right against your G-spot, deep and thick and deliberate.

Austin had never known pleasure like it. The first thrust made him keen, head tipping back, the toy nudging something deep inside him. His hands grabbed for your hips, then your arms, then the sheets—like he didn’t know where to anchor himself.

Austin moaned. Loudly. He didn’t hold back.

His cock lay heavy against his stomach, flushed, leaking. His fingers reached for you blindly and you took one of his hands, lacing your fingers together.

You were gasping too, the rhythm slow but grinding—each stroke sending a pulse of heat through you as the toy inside you shifted, pressing against that perfect spot. You couldn’t stop the moans slipping from your lips, matching his.

His thighs shook. His abs flexed. His eyes fluttered shut, then opened again, wet at the corners.

“Austin,” you breathed, cupping his face. “You’re crying.”

He nodded, breath ragged. “It’s—it’s so much. Feels so fucking good.”

You kissed his cheeks, tasting salt. “You’re doing so well, baby. You’re perfect.”

You shifted your angle, searching for the one that made him gasp louder—and when you found it, he shouted, hips jerking up to meet you.

“Right there?” you asked, already breathless.

“Fuck—yes—please, don’t stop.”

You didn’t.

The pressure inside you was constant—heavy and rhythmic, your own wetness slicking your thighs, your body pulsing in time with his.

Austin felt like he was flying apart. The intensity, the fullness, the connection—he wasn’t just being fucked. He was held. He was seen. And every sound you made, every kiss you pressed to his skin, told him he was worshipped.

“You look so beautiful like this,” you murmured.

He blinked up at you, eyes glassy with pleasure. “I’ve never felt anything like this. I—I’m gonna come—I can’t—”

“I’ve got you,” you whispered, as you reached down and took him in your hand, stroking him in time with your thrusts.

His body locked up, trembling, and then he shattered—his orgasm ripped through him with a sob. Hot spurts spilled over your hand and his stomach, his thighs shaking as he moaned your name, clinging to you like you were the only thing tethering him to the earth.

You kept moving just a little longer, your own orgasm cresting, thighs flexing as the bulb inside you dragged over every nerve. You came with a whimper, your body going loose and electric all at once, forehead pressed to his.

You eased out of him carefully, holding his gaze the whole time, watching his body twitch with oversensitivity as the toy slipped free. He hissed through his teeth, but his eyes didn’t leave yours—wide and wet and shining with something deeper than pleasure.

“Good?” you asked softly, brushing his hair back from his damp forehead.

He gave a tiny, breathless laugh. “So fucking good.”

You kissed his cheek, then rolled off the bed to grab the warm washcloth and towel you’d set aside. When you came back, he was still spread across the sheets, flushed and boneless, blinking up at the ceiling like he was trying to rejoin his body.

“Just relax,” you murmured.

You cleaned him gently, wiping away the mess on his stomach and thighs, moving with slow, reverent care. You took your time—not just for cleanliness, but to honour him. Each time you finished a spot, you kissed the skin softly after, like sealing something in. His stomach. His hip. The dip of his knee. The inside of his thigh.

He watched you the entire time, chest still rising and falling with shallow breaths, his hand eventually drifting up to your arm, fingertips curling around your wrist.

When you were done, you climbed back into bed and reached for him—and he came willingly, immediately, curling into you with a soft sound that broke something in your chest.

You pulled the duvet over both of you and tucked him into the curve of your body. Your arms wrapped around him; his slid around your waist and up into your hair, fingers tangling there like he didn’t want to let go.

Your body felt soft, warm, and loose, every inch of you humming with the afterglow. Your heart was full.

“I didn’t know it could feel like that,” he murmured, voice thick and unguarded. “Not just the sex. The whole thing.”

You kissed his temple, then his cheek, then the edge of his jaw. “You let me in. Completely. That’s what made it so good.”

He pulled back just far enough to look at you. His eyes were red-rimmed but steady. “I’ve never felt so loved.”

You cupped his face with both hands, kissed him like it meant everything—because it did.

Now, with the heat of his body pressed to yours, legs entwined, breath shared, there was nothing left but truth. You looked at him—really looked—and it hit you all over again. How beautiful he was. How deeply you loved him. How safe he made you feel, even in his own surrender.

And he was looking back at you the same way.

Hands in hair. Foreheads brushing. Eyes soft and full of everything you couldn’t even say out loud.

You held him tighter.

Because he was loved.

And so were you.

Taglist:

@thefallofthedamned @saturnsdaughtr @bellesdreamyprofile @myradiaz @butlerrizz @chocolatetree222

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #Austin butler smut #Pegging with love

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faegoddessog · 3 months ago

Text

Day 15: Reflection

Ok, so I fear this one may be ... boring? <gak> especially after the last one. I'm sorry (also not sorry, the story needed this bit). Life got busy and I didn't quite get to where I was hoping. No worries. we'll get there eventually.

@dailydoseofaustinbutler has all the deets pinned for this challenge!

Warnings: like.. nothing. Aftercare? is that a warning?

Here is my Master List which includes the og 72 hrs of Bliss that these two come from. Also here it is on AO3 if you like that better.

The other new installments for this series are listed here .

Enjoy! (I hope)

Arsene’s body shivers as he spurts the last of his cum into her stuffed pussy. As he recovers his breath, he realizes she is shaking too. He dredges his head from her body to see that she is crying, tears leaking down her face.

“Oh Belle Madame, are you ok?” he asks her. “ I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

Austin is immediately at her side. She sees him and turns, untangling her arms from Arsene and reaching for her anchor. Arsene pulls his softening cock out of her and clambors off as she curls up into her husband.

“I’m here, I’ve got you,” he murmurs to her, “are you hurt, Babydoll?”

She shakes her head as she lets herself sob into his chest. Hearing his voice and feeling him surround her clicks her brain into safety.

Austin looks up to an awkward Arsene. Who looks stunned, as if he suddenly can’t see his own reflection in a mirror. He’s never had this happen before.

“It’s ok, this happens,” Austin reassures calmly “we didn’t hurt her, she’s processing. Probably just overwhelmed, maybe just too good.” He turns to her, gently petting her head, ”Is that it Kitten?”

She nods, face still buried in his chest.

“What can I do?” Arsene is partially relieved. He is a man that truly cares about the wellbeing of the women he sleeps with.

“Tissues and water and if we could get her something soft to eat, scrambled eggs or yogurt, soft cheese even.” Austin answers, kicking himself for not knowing better, for not having these things at the ready. He had been too preoccupied, understandably.

Arsene quickly brings two bottles of water and a box of tissues. He quickly pulls his clothes on and heads down to the kitchen.

Austin continues to rock her, stroking her gently, letting her cry it out. Once she calms enough, he blows her nose and makes her sip water. Once she stops shaking, he takes her to the toilet and helps her clean up. By the time Arsene comes back with a plate of cheeses and soft fruit, she is wrapped in a blanket on the couch. She is still out of it with her eyes closed and curled up into Austin’s chest but breathing normally.

“Do you need anything else? Should I stay or go?” Arsene asks.

Austin puts a piece of pear to her lips and encourages her to nibble.

“You can go, I’ve got her,” Austin makes a point of looking up into his face. “And thank you, truly, for everything. You were,” he inhales, trying to convey all he feels, “amazing.”

Arsene is struck by the intensity of the ocean blue eyes looking up at him. He knows exactly what he is being thanked for, and mon dieu would he take more.

“Austin, you are so welcome,” heat rises in him, “you are irresistible.”

Austin is suddenly enormously shy. Color rises in his cheeks and he looks back down at this wife. She would know exactly what to say to ease this moment, to reassure him.

“Please, she has my number. Let me know how she is,” Arsene backs off, not wanting to push Austin further.

“We will. She will want to talk to you, I’m sure.”

><><><>

She knew when they both were finally inside her, when they had both started to really fuck her, when Arsene moaned quietly in her ear about being a ‘good girl’ and ‘you like your husbands cock in your ass?’ and ‘he’s fucking me too.’ She knew it could come to this, could send her body and brain into overload. Yet she was already powerless to do anything about it. It was just that good, the delectable ache of them. She watched herself get a little out of control right before she started cumming. Austin started really fucking into her unable to stop his roaring orgasm. She flew over the edge, her pussy tightening on Arsene, who’s big dick pressed hard into her g-spot as Austin started spurting into her ass. But then Arsene was fucking her spasming hole into next week making Austin pull out of her and she was catapulted into somaethesia overload, into an uncontrollable mix of physical and emotional sensation. There might have been just a little bit of claustrophobia to boot. Add to that not having her Austin in full body contact and she broke down.

Now, she was a good girl. He told her so with each bite she took and each wetting of her lips with water. She let out a big sigh, her nervous system finally down regulating, forcing her to drift into sleep.

Austin picks her up and tucks her into bed. He laid there with her for a long time, holding her, loving her and processing what had happened.

To be Continued...

WANT TO BE ADDEDD TO THIS LIST SO THAT EVERY TIME I POST SOMETHING NEW YOU'LL BE NOTIFIED? ☝🏼 DM me or toss it in the comments below.

#austin butler #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #austin butler smut #ddofab #creative challenge

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faegoddessog · 3 months ago

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Day 14: Are you kidding me?

Here we go, hold on my loves. Things get hot.

@dailydoseofaustinbutler has all the deets pinned for this challenge!

Warnings: Explicity Mature Content 18+, bareback PIV (protect yourselves out there!) double fellatio, homoerotic thoughts and actions, ass play, DP (anal and vaginal), anal cream pie.

Here is my Master List which includes the og 72 hrs of Bliss that these two come from. Also here it is on AO3 if you like that better.

The other new installments for this series are listed here .

Enjoy!

Austin sees her eyes glazed in lust and he recognizes her state instantly even if he hasn’t seen it in too long a time

He pulls out of her slowly. She moans at the slow friction.

“Come here Kitten,” he says softly, gathering her to him. Her tongue reaches for Arsene’s dick as she’s pulled away, sad for the loss of it. This, plus the slightly drunken movement of her arms and the slow undulation of her body into his, confirms it for him.

“She’s slipped into a floaty pleasure space,” he says quietly to Arsene.

“What does this mean?”

“Like a form of subspace, but without the BDSM,” Austin explains.

His protector instinct kicks up a notch. He picks her up and lays her down, ass near the edge of the bed.

“Do we need to stop?” says Arsene, looking concerned.

It was exactly the thing that Austin needed to hear from him. That he was as concerned for her safety as Austin was, that he wasn’t there to just use her like a ragdoll.

“Babydoll, do you want to stop?” Austin asks, petting her head.

“No, no need you both in me,” she reaches out a hand towards Arsene, “need to see you kiss, suck your cock together.”

“Are you kidding me?,” he says only in his mind.

Maybe she wasn’t as oblivious to his desires as he thought. He knows that when she’s like this, she has no filter. It both excites him and pings his nerves.

“I got you babe, you float and I’ll take care of you,” he kisses her forehead, “We’re gonna fuck you now, but you say stop and we’ll listen hunny.”

“MMm love fucking you,” her sleepy looking smile morphs into anticipation of pleasure as Arsene kneels between her legs, stroking his cock.

Austin nods to him. Arsene guides her legs up over his and steers his cock to her pussy. He rubs his tip in her juices. Digging a little to press himself between her labia, seating his head at her wet ingress.

“Ready to take his big cock baby?,” Austin’s voice and hands are soothing her, encouraging her.

Her hips answer for her, yearning against the head about to breach her.

Arsene pushes into her tightness. He pulls back a little only to push in again, spreading her juices on his shaft.

She moans at his size, at every fucking centimeter of him as he slowly fucks deeper and deerper into her. Somewhere in her mind she’s noting the differences: one harder than the other, one familiar and made for her, the other stretching her differently though not unpleasantly. Until he starts fully moving in her, then all the tipsy analytics burst into the sensations of stretch, heat and opening up.

She turns her head to find Austin’s well known cock at her lips. The strength of her oral fixation when she’s like this is so intense, she just needs anything in her mouth: a cock, a thumb, fingers, a wrist, a neck, anything to soothe the oral fervor. She opens her mouth, tongue out again for the sacrament of cock.

He lays himself on her proffered tongue, letting her control how much to put in her mouth. She roams his shaft, wraps her lips around his head, and flicks at his tiny little hole, before suckling gently at his cock.

Everywhere he looks is incendiary. His delectable wife on his cock, Arsene slowly pumping in and out of her pussy. Even Arsene’s face, focused on watching himself, was hot as fuck. Austin kept hearing Kitten’s voice say ‘watch you kiss him’.

Austin reaches out for balance and finds his hand on the other man’s shoulder. Without thinking, he leans over, running his hand down Arsene’s back to cup his ass. He’s helping to push Arsene’s hips against hers encouraging him to fuck her and finding his mouth wet with saliva. His lips press against the tan and muscled shoulder. His tongue tentatively darting out to taste the man’s skin.

Arsene turns his head into Austin’s, capturing the beautiful man’s head against his neck with one hand.

“Let me kiss you,” Arsene murmurs into his ear without thinking.

No, they hadn’t negotiated this. But he hadn’t known Austin would be this magnetic.

Their lips crash together like north and south poles. The intensity with which their mouths meet is extraordinary. Both tongues vye for space, faces mashing together, shaking with primal energy.

Kitten watches from under her eyelashes. Her mouth is full and her man is a sex god incarnate.

It’s beautiful. It’s perfection.

Austin pulls back from Arsene’s mouth with a grin.

“Give it to her deep, she likes it deep.”

With a grin as if he’d made off with the family jewels, Arsene curls down over her and thrusts deeper. Ok he did get away with something, that’s for sure.

Kitten moans on Austin’s cock, renewing her oral grip and sucking him harder, taking him deeper.

Austin lets his head fall backwards, enjoying the increased suction of her immaculate mouth. Suddenly there are two tongues on his cock, two sets of lips nibbling at his hardness, two mouths eager to take him deep. Austin never thinks to protest. It’s merely the natural progression of this encounter. Lust can make many a ‘maybe’ into an instant ‘yes’.

Arsene’s mouth wrapped around him and hers sucking on his balls. It’s fucking heaven. He pulls away just as he feels that telltale tightness in his inner thighs.

Both faces, one mischievous, the other in full blown pleasure-intoxication, look up at him before turning to one another to let their tongues tangle.

A soft growl flows from his chest as he watches them, wondering if they realize that they are sharing the taste of his cock on their tongues. He lets his hands glide down their bodies unworried now about touching him as he would her.

“I’m gonna get her ass ready. I want you to keep fucking her just go slow,” he says shakily to Arsene who nods and slows.

He positions himself behind them. It’s fucking salacious to see just how stretched her pussy is. He never gets to see this angle. It’s beyond hot.

Her legs are pushed up under Arsene’s. It tilts her pelvis up, giving him perfect access to her little pucker. He grabs lube from the bedside table and smears his finger in it. He already had her sweet ass this morning, so she shouldn’t need much prep, but he wants to warn her body that he’s there and not surprise her out of her pleasure based subspace.

He sinks one finger into her clean little Kitten hole. Then two. He turns his hand palm up, pressing just enough to feel the movement of the cock in and out of her. Arsene’s balls are just inches from his hand. It would be so easy to fondle them. Jesus, he’s never had thoughts like these before.

She loves the feeling of the body on top of her. She’s pretty sure it’s Arsene, just by the slightly foreign feel of the cock in her. Then she feels it, sensation on her asshole. It’s perfect, one finger feels good, the second even better. It has to be Austin, he knows just how she likes it. In the back of her mind, she thanks her amazing man for warming her up. A thrill slowly rises in her. She’s wanted this with him for so long; wanted to feel two cocks, wanted to be stuffed to the brim. It’s so easy to just let herself feel, let the sensory input wash over her without over analyzing.

Then the fingers spreading her ass are gone. Austin’s gorgeous face comes into view. He is caressing her cheek.

“Kitten love, are you ready?”

“MMM, want it back,” she pouts, reaching down to pull at her ass cheeks.

“Mm’kay, gonna fill your ass then, babydoll,” he can’t help but say out loud.

The look on her face as her eyes flutter is just sheer delight. This whole experience is just beyond his expectations of hot. He wants nothing more than to give her everything.

He grabs Arsene’s hips to still them. Dripping lube on his own cock, he presses the tip to her exposed hole. The angle here is perfect, just like she likes it. He pushes in. Moans resound in the room from all three of them. Breath sucked in through teeth, between lips and in gasps.

Her arms have come to rest around Arsene’s back. Austin, feeling like he might sail off into the ether with her, threads his fingers between hers. The connection grounds him somewhat.

“You ok Kitten?” he says loud enough for her to hear. He just needs to make sure.

“Uh huh. Fuck me,” her fingers grip his.

Arsene's face is buried in her neck. Inbetween sucking on whatever of her skin was readily available, French words spill from him into her ear.

“Si bon, si bon. Bonne fille, le prends si bien.” It’s surreal as her brain hears it, knows what he means, but can’t quite translate it fully.

Austin sets the pace, slow at first to get her used to being so full. He can feel the pressure of Arsene’s cock above his, making her entrance that much tighter. Arsene starts to move in her pussy, not a lot, but enough. Even that small friction is otherworldly for all three of them.They seem to take turns moaning the loudest.

Austin’s fingertips, still holding her hands, dig into the man's hips in front of him for purchase. The pace increases as her every crevice gets used to all the intrusion. She can’t think, let alone straight. She can feel nothing apart from the glorious expanse, the volume of both their cocks penetrating her, using her. It runs her right up to the line between pleasure and overwhelm. She fucking loves it. She has no control over what is coming out of her mouth, the moans, the constant sounding of her pleasure. She doesn't even know if she is saying words or not. She feels like a messy masterpiece of pleasure.

She is.

“Fuck! Fuck! Harder!!”

Austin will do nothing but comply.

Arsene’s hips rock back and forth, grinding rougher.

Her moans of pleasure and Arsene’s grunts of need punctuate every thrust, every breach of her delicious holes. New sounds fill the air. Sounds of Austin’s skin slapping thiers, his thighs against her backside and what’s more, his abdomen against Arsene’s ass.

The realization strikes him just how close this is to fucking Arsene, how easy it would be to pull from her and into him. It could have weirded him out, it’s not something that’s ever been on his radar. Instead, he is riding the waves of sensuality coming off of his wife and it unexpectedly spikes him.

He becomes a freight train, fucking harder into her ass, harder against him. He’s nearly losing himself. He watches her buck, her face bright red.

“Yes yes yes YEEEEEEESSSS!!” If her high pitched elongation didn’t clue him in, the convulsion of her ass definitely did.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck oh FUCK!” Austin pumps his dick into her ass, thrusting, up on his toes, ass clenching. With a roar of open syllable he goes deep, his cock spurting into the paroxysms of her hole.

“Fuck, fuck fuck!!” She is still cumming, shifting her hips back and forth on their cocks. Arsene takes the cue and begins slamming into her pussy. Arching and flexing his back to make the most of his big cock inside her.

“Si bon, si bon, si bon,” he chants fucking her deep, fucking her hard. Austin shivers as Arsene’s movement pulls them away from his cock and he slides out her gaping hole.

Kitten is just screaming, thrashing. Taking it like a queen, giving it like a goddess.

“Oui! Oui! Oui! OUUUUUUIIIIII!” Arsene groans into her chest.

Austin’s eyes are transfixed on him entering her and on his own cum that is starting to oooze from her pretty little asshole.

All motion freezes and he watches as Arsene’s testicles pull up tight to his body. Shivering, pulsing, emptying into her.

“Fuck that’s hot," are the only words he can muster.

To be Continued.....

WANT TO BE ADDEDD TO THIS LIST SO THAT EVERY TIME I POST SOMETHING NEW YOU'LL BE NOTIFIED? ☝🏼 DM me or toss it in the comments below.

#austin butler #austin butler fanfic #austin butler smut #austin butler fic #ddofab #creative challenge #threesome #MFM with a little MM kicker

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