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wisteria-blooms · 8 months ago

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P A R A D I S E // P O T I O N S!

PAIRING: Bill Weasley & You WARNINGS: smut!! so much smut!!, oral (giving, receiving), piv, sex pollen trope, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, creampies, all the makings of a bad porn plot **MINORS DNI** SUMMARY: As per Percy’s recommendation to his mother, you’re tasked to house-sit the Burrow while the family is away for the Quidditch World Cup. You’re Percy's closest friend and much like him, you are more than wary of his mischievous twin brothers, Fred and George. But what if their machinations lead you to something you’ve always dreamt of coming true? (8.0k words)

A/N: Been going through a bit of writer’s block recently, so hopefully a load of debauchery (as big as Bill's) breaks down that wall. I’ve been mad at how my sentences are coming out—they sound so redundant and boring. Also, I’m not great at editing my smut scenes because I get embarrassed reading them, so enjoy at your own risk. ;)

PARADISE POTIONS!

There was an undeniable feeling of late summer that nestled in the morning air, a pleasant marriage of warmth and wind. As you trekked up a tall, grassy hill, you breathed it all in. You were in disbelief that August had snuck up on you so suddenly. That meant only two weeks left of freedom before you were confined to a cubicle in the Ministry of Magic, wasting your life away.

‘It won’t be so bad’, you reminded yourself. After all, Percy Weasley would be there alongside you in the same department. He was your most supportive and reliable friend, contrary to popular opinion. And it’d been him that pitched the idea that you house sit the Burrow while he and his family were away at the Quidditch World Cup. Apparently, he’d told Molly that you were mature, responsible, and ‘very much like him.’ You had to tease him about the compliment he threw in about himself.

Molly would provide you room and board for the next week. Your tasks mainly included upkeep of the garden, feeding the animals, and ensuring the home didn’t seem completely empty as the whole family vacationed. Molly simply hated to keep an empty house.

“Good morning, Perce!” you greeted with a wave when you reached the tip of the hill.

He waved back from the main entrance. Then, he motioned for your luggage.

“How was your journey?”

“Uneventful,” you affirmed. “Though the walk up was great exercise. I feel very much awake now.”

“It’s quite the trek,” he agreed.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the orientation at the Ministry we had last week,” you gushed. “I’m so excited to start work.”

“Me too,” Percy agreed with a nod.

“Mum would like to have you in for a spot of breakfast,” Percy said.

“I’d be delighted.” You heard excellent things about Molly Weasley’s breakfasts.

Percy held the door open for you. The windchimes sounded from above you, signaling your entrance. You brushed past a fluttery overhead curtain. When the material unveiled itself, you came face to face with a long dining table. There were only six occupants: Ginny, Ron, the infamous Harry Potter, Hermione, Charlie, and Bill. You gave a small wave to the younger kids. They nodded wordlessly. You reckoned that in their eyes, any friend of Percy’s must be some masochist deviant.

To the side, Arthur was chatting with who you supposed was Amos Diggory, combing through their plans.

“Good morning, (Y/N) dear,” Molly greeted. You were glad she thought of you just as prim and proper and organized as her third-eldest son.

You took a seat with Percy. He sat where his newspaper and coffee mug laid, right in front of Charlie. With a nervous smile, you sat to his right and…

Your eyes immediately landed on Bill. He was Percy’s eldest brother, and by far the most handsome. You were embarrassed to admit that you’d always fancied him. Not in the soul-crushing-adult-love kind of way, but in a silly schoolgirl way. He was so tall, so subtly muscly from sports. And he was a little more fun than Percy, though you’d never tell him that.

But given that you were so young, there was no viable chance of anything happening. So, you chose to admire him from afar in the two years you overlapped schooling. You were now eighteen like Percy, but you maintained the fact Bill still saw you as a child, nothing else. It was an infatuation that would hurt no one, so you just let it be.

“Good morning, (Y/N).”

You suppressed a smile as he acknowledged you.

“Good morning, Bill.”

“Good morning, (Y/N),” sang Charlie.

You smiled. “Hi, Charlie.” Charlie was quite the handful. You preferred Bill’s calmness than Charlie’s calamity.

“I see it’s you who was tasked with watching our house,” Bill said. “I couldn’t have chosen better myself.”

“Thank you, Bill.” That compliment was going into your pocket for a rainy day.

Bill was still ever so handsome, appearances aging like fine wine, with his soft ginger locks that framed his sharp cheekbones. His blue eyes glinted in the morning sun. You peeked at his chiselled jaw and his—dare you say—kissable lips. His t-shirt barely hid the muscles in his arms. He might’ve been tall and predisposed to being lankier compared to Charlie, but you knew he had his own ways to keep fit.

You were so busy being entranced by Bill that you’d lost track of time and space. All you knew was that it was the best morning ever, sitting in front of him, surrounded by faint windchimes and the chirping birds outside to the window. Breakfast hadn’t even been served and you were already salivating thinking about Bill doing push-ups under the hot Egyptian sun, and that wasn’t even that deep in the gutter where most of your thoughts laid, in fact—

Suddenly, a large explosion reverberated through the house and shook the table. It jolted you and Percy. You yelped and ducked. When you regained your sense of place, you looked up. No one else besides you and Percy were fazed.

“What was that?” you asked Percy, trying to settle your heart.

“Fred! George!” Molly cried, walking over to the stairs with her spatula still in hand. “What have I told you about your experiments?”

“Sorry, mum,” George said, running down the stairs, a smidge of ash on his face. “That’s it for today, I promise.”

“I don’t want to hear this again, ever!” Molly shrieked. Then, she calmed down when she realised she was in front of guests. “Well, if that’s it, then help out a little bit, won’t you? We have to get going in less than an hour.”

“Sure thing,” George said with a smile. He ran over to the table and to the coffee pot. He gave it a jiggle, letting the remaining liquid slosh around. “Anyone need a top up of their coffee?”

“Mum made that pot, you can trust it,” Percy advised.

“Thank you,” you whispered back, and then looked up at George, “I wouldn’t mind a cup.”

George sauntered over and poured you a cup. “Coffee, Bill?” he asked.

“That sounds good,” Bill responded.

“You’ll have to wait another ten minutes then,” George said with a frown. He tapped the empty glass container. “I’ve just run out. If only (Y/N) didn’t drink for two.”

“Quit it,” Percy warned his brother with a low tone.

“I’m sorry,” you said. You were about to offer Bill your cup when Percy held out a hand to stop you.

“Keep it,” Percy countered as she shoved the white mug back to your side. “I wouldn’t trust anything they put out. I’m glad it’s you that took the last of what mum made.”

You kept your voice quiet and giggled. “I hope Bill has an iron stomach, then.”

Percy nodded.

While Percy could be harsh on his siblings, you were grateful for his looking out for you. To be fair, you were also skittish around Fred and George. They weren’t as easy to read as other people. A friendly smile often meant something sinister.

“Would anyone like some liqueur in your morning beverage?” Fred asked, skipping three steps as he ran down the stairs. He reached underneath his coat as if selling contraband. “I have whatever tickles your fancy. In fact, Georgie and I have been working on something we reckon will be extremely profitable.”

Molly shot him a glare. You shook your head politely.

“Don’t feel like you have to respond to his foolishness,” advised Percy. “He doesn’t deserve your time of day.”

“Loosen up, (Y/N),” Fred commanded. “If you hang around Percy all day and refuse any fun, you’ll both die virgins.”

You went beet red immediately. It was a shade that rivalled Percy’s in speed and depth. You prayed that Bill wasn’t paying attention to you.

“That is ENOUGH!” bellowed Molly who whipped around so quickly that she nearly decapitated George with her wooden spoon. She’d reached her boiling point. “I won’t have you ruining our morning with your distasteful conversations, especially with all our guests presents.” She charged over to Fred and handed him a stack of plates. “Go on, make yourself useful and set the table.”

“(Y/N), darling,” Molly said, her sudden change in tone a little frightening. “I’ve cleared out Bill’s old room for you. Since he’s heading back to Egypt right after the World Cup, he’ll share Charlie’s room for the time for the last night. There are fresh sheets and towels and a change of clothes if you need. You are welcome to use the bath right next to the room.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.” Fred’s comment about your virginity went through one of Molly’s ears and out the other. Thank Merlin.

“Coffee’s ready, dear brother,” George sang. “How do you take it?”

“Just black,” Bill responded. “Thank you, George.”

You peered at Bill through a sip of coffee. Your heart fluttered again. Summers were really the best. It was the only chance to see him again for a flicker of time, an hour or two, before he travelled halfway across the world again. In this case, in a week. As the meal went on, you stared at him so intently during breakfast that your fork speared your cheek instead of your mouth multiple times.

When breakfast concluded, you assured Molly that you’d take care of the dishes and ushered her to the door.

“I hope you have a nice time,” you said to Ron and his friends. He mumbled a thanks. You smiled at him, happy that you were making some progress with Percy’s younger brother. Your peace was ruined by Fred and George murmuring amongst themselves excitedly. You hoped it was about the World Cup and nothing else.

Arthur was doing a routine headcount when he asked: “Where’s Bill?”

“He said he had some emergency work to finish up for the bank,” Charlie said. “Keep the portkey open for him for another hour, and he’ll be sure to make it by then.”

“If you need anything,” Percy said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You know where to find me.”

You nodded.

After the Weasleys left, you locked the door and headed back into the house. Knowing Bill was upstairs working, you got to tidying the kitchen in the quietest manner you could. You hoped the running water and the occasional clinking of dishes wasn’t bothering him. It would be really embarrassing if he came down to complain about the noise.

After the kitchen was cleaned, you went outside to trim the shrubs, water the plants, and feed the cows. You forced yourself not to peek at the front door to see if Bill had left. He probably had, and it hurt a bit that he’d gone without saying goodbye.

The temperature had risen dramatically since you arrived in the morning, and by the time you were done, you were a sweaty mess. Bill had likely gone which meant you’d have the house to yourself. You caved into the idea of a long bath to wipe the mud and grime off your body. You dashed up to the main washroom Molly offered you and began running the water.

When you were finished with your bath, you wrapped a clean towel around you and proceeded to your room. Maybe you could do some reading and take a nap before deciding on dinner, Your chest tingled when you realised it was Bill’s old room—how lucky were you? The first thing you noticed when you entered was that Bill’s room was clean and sparse. Molly had left a window cracked open to allow for a gentle breeze, and placed your clothes on the bed. You took a couple steps forward and let your towel drop on the floor to reach for your tank top when suddenly…

Your hand met a tuft of hair. Hair that was attached to a pale, sweaty head.

You screamed as you tumbled back, your bare bum hitting the wooden floor. Oh, where the heck was your wand when you needed it? You grabbed a pair of slippers in self-defence.

“Who’s there?” you said in the bravest voice you could muster. “You need to get out of here, now!”

The thing in the bed just groaned weakly. You saw a pale, shaking arm stick out of the covers. Whatever it was, it was at least human, hopefully.

Your hand grappled the top of the desk for your wand. Once you found it, you rose cautiously from the floor with the intent to peel away the covers. You’d dealt with Boggarts; you’d seen your worst nightmares in person. You treaded cautiously because the creature could rise at any moment. But it didn’t, forcing you to get closer.

Your heart almost stopped when your hands grasped the hem of the covers. Your life flashed before your eyes. You needed to survive. You needed to live to work with Percy at the Ministry come September. You needed to live for your family. You needed to live for the off chance Bill Weasley shared the same feelings as you—oh, you were about to die, what was the point of thinking about Bill?

With your wand in an offensive position, you ripped the sheets off.

But there was nothing.

Nothing at all.

What?

It took you a few seconds to process it, but this… thing wasn’t a creature at all. In fact, it was Bill Weasley. Well, an apparition of him of sorts. He looked extremely pale and sickly, his skin the shade of paper. His ginger hair stuck to his face, his sweat binding it like it was wet glue. There was an intense warmth radiating from his skin, and his body jostled slightly as the cold air hit him.

“Bill? You called out in complete disbelief. “Are—are you okay?”

He groaned in response. Slowly, he turned his head towards you. He looked even worse up close, or as worse as Bill Weasley could possibly look. His eyebrows were intensely furrowed, his breathing laboured, and he could barely open those pretty eyes of his—oh, not this again! Bill looked to be on death’s bed and all you were thinking about was how handsome he was.

“I don’t know what happened,” Bill breathed out. His voice was a mere rasp. “I was feeling fine this morning. I can hardly get up now. And I can’t talk,” he coughed as if to prove a point, “above a whisper.”

“Are you running a fever?” you inquired, concern thick in your voice.

“No, I don’t think—,” Bill mustered the strength to open his eyes. He looked startled. “(Y/N)?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“Where…”

You looked at Bill intently.

“Where are your clothes?”

“Huh?”

You looked down. Your mouth went slack. You were barer than the day you were born.

“Shit!” you exclaimed. “I’m sorry, don’t look, don’t look, sorry, sorry!” So caught up in the heat of things, you’d haphazardly abandoned your towel in exchange for your life. You scampered back to retrieve it and tied it back on yourself. When you looked up, Bill was, fortunately, turned away, and only a sliver of his naked back was visible to you.

“Is there anything I can help with?” you asked in a state of panic. ‘Besides giving you a show?’ On the inside, you had to laugh at the thought of a striptease benefiting Bill’s health.

Bill was looking worse for wear with every passing second, and you were just prancing around without clothes. “Your mother keeps potions in the cabinet, doesn’t she? I’ll go find an antipyretic--”

Bill swiped at his forehead with his palm. “I don’t think it’s a fever, well, to the best of my knowledge.”

“Then perhaps some water?” you offered. “Or some soup?”

“(Y/N),” Bill called. Your name rolled off like velvet from his lips. “Come here, please.”

Your eyes widened. Your heart was beating erratically and whether it was out of fear or anticipation, you didn’t know. Still, you complied and began walking over. The floor felt like pricks underneath your feet.

“Could you please take these sheets off?” Bill asked. “I might try to cool down.”

You nodded. “S-sure.” You pinched the hem of the bedsheet with your forefinger and thumb and carefully stripped the sheet off. Every second that passed unveiled a new, delicious sight: Bill’s toned chest, the crevice between his chest and abdominal muscles, the veins running down his forearms, and the shapely twin creases that led straight down to his briefs. A chill of disappointment ran through your body when you realised he was still clothed.

‘Stay focussed’, you pleaded with yourself. You were here to help Bill, not to take advantage of him.

“Is that better?” you asked Bill, but your eyes weren’t on his face. They were instead fixated on the centre of his body and namely, the very present bulge at the apex of his black briefs. His manhood had tented so viciously that it stretched the black fabric until it was translucent. Was that a spot of pink flesh or were you just seeing things? You gulped and tried to reign in your imagination.

Bill breathed out as the cool air kissed his skin. “Marginally.”

“I can bring the fan inside the room,” you suggested so quickly you almost toppled off the bed.

“Wait.” Bill’s hand grabbed your wrist before you could get anywhere. Your skin scorched. “Can you help me with one more thing?”

You were about to explode. “Sure, Bill.”

“Could you help me remove my briefs too?”

Your jaw had, at this point, permanently detached from your face. “What?”

“Just one last thing and my temperature should regulate itself.”

Was stripping really a remedy to Bill’s ailment? Shaking your head, you decided to help him in any way possible before running back to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face to ascertain that you weren’t dreaming. This definitely had to be a dream. Today probably hadn’t even started yet. Any minute now, your alarm would ring and you would wake up so disappointed.

“Alright.”

Slowly, you hooked your fingers underneath the elastic waistband of Bill’s briefs. His blue eyes fluttered close and his face twisted in relief. You suppressed a groan at the sight of Bill like this, pleasured by your every touch.

You’d never admit that Fred was right in his observation this morning, but it was true that you’d never seen a… penis in the flesh. But there was no turning away now as your hands worked to expose every inch of pink flesh hiding underneath Bill’s undergarments. It was deliciously lewd, the way his long cock sprang out from the confines of his boxers and nearly slapping you in the face. A tad closer, and the appendage would’ve swiped your cheek. Just inches in front you pulsed a swelling, oozing pink tip that was connected to a thick shaft that only seemed to grow slightly in girth as you stripped him.

You had nothing but anatomical pictures and the circumference of your wrist to compare him to, but even you knew he was bigger than average. Bill had, truly, the prettiest cock to ever exist. Pale, smooth, pink, but an angrier shade coloured the head. He was thick, but even thicker near the base. Veins painted his manhood like art. You almost had to wonder how he’d feel inside you, splitting your virgin pussy open. It would kill you.

Holy shit. You had to stop thinking, because you were getting yourself wet.

Bill raised his hips up to help you bring the last bit of his briefs down from underneath him. Your hand grazed the back of his thigh. The unintended action elicited a not-so-subtle moan from Bill.

“I’m sorry, I—,” Bill said, pushing himself up on the bed. His neck was flushed crimson and his breathing heavy. You had plummeted into the ocean with the saltwater flooding your ears; you could barely hear. You gulped as a bead of wetness suddenly spurted out of the tip of his cock and threatened to run down the length of it. “I reckon I was cursed or hexed by someone,” he surmised. “It’s not like me to require such things of you, or anyone for that matter.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered. Your hand was turning white with the deathgrip on your towel. “But Bill, did that… help?”

The smartest thing to do was to remove yourself from this conversation and call for help, but you kept pressing the topic. You planted your palms on the mattress and looked on in awe. Bill was well-endowed beyond your wildest dreams. You couldn’t stop admiring him.

Forgetting he was naked, Bill sat up. His cock curled closer to his navel as a result. “What?”

You ripped your eyes away from the bead of precum that’d captivated your attention. “When we touched. It seemed to bring some colour to your face.”

“Come to think of it, I reckon it did, yeah,” Bill responded. He furrowed his brows, his words dying on his lips. There was only one direction this conversation was going to go and you had steered it off the overpass and down the cliff.

You spoke up first. “Have you tried touching…”

“Myself?” Bill finished with a chuckle.

You blushed. “Yes, well,” you countered. “It’s not entirely unreasonable, and—”

“I have.”

You tilted your head. “And?”

Bill attempted to lift his hands, but they gravitated down to the bed. “Well, I’ve… tried,” he admitted sheepishly, “but it’s made it worse.” He chuckled and shook his head at the state he was in. “And now I can’t even manage to move my arm.”

“Oh.” You frowned. “But when I touched you, you felt better?”

Bill blew out some air which tickled the wet hair on his forehead. He gestured to his raging erection. “Can you… would you mind? You’re right, it might help.”

Would you mind?

Of course you wouldn’t.

“I’ve never, erm,” you countered. A blaze of heat rushed to your cheeks. You didn’t want to admit to Bill that Fred was right when he clocked you as a virgin, though it didn’t take a deep understanding of your person to come to that conclusion. You and Percy both looked down on dalliances as prefects back in school, even busting students in the act and sending them to be reprimanded. You reckoned Bill was going to find it uncool but it was better to be truthful. “I’ve never done this with anyone.”

He chuckled. “I figured.”

You wanted to shrivel up and die.

“But it’s absolutely fine,” Bill correctly quickly, knowing he’d offended you slightly. “You don’t need to have done it to know how to do it. I’ll guide you.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

He did his best to motion to the base of him with his hands. “Grip me firmly down here.”

You obliged, holding him at the base with your right hand as you clutched your towel in the other. For an usually flaccid body part, Bill was very, very hard and warm. All the blood in his body was concentrated into one area, so it made sense. You were grateful when your thumb still managed to touch the tips of your fingers because, well, he was quite big and you weren’t confident he was going to fit in your hand.

“Move up and down,” Bill instructed in between heavy pants. You nodded. When you started shifting your hand from the base to the head and back, he let out a low groan. His skin felt like velvet in your hands; he felt so good. “Yeah, just like that.” Precum dribbled from Bill and onto from the side of your fingers as you moved faster and covered more ground. Bill’s eyes alternated from open to close in erratic intervals as you began to adjust your speed and the tightness of your fingers around him. When Bill stopped talking, you reckoned you were doing a pretty damn good job.

Bill was powerless underneath you and you relinquished the feeling. But you wanted more.

So, you shifted from the edge of the bed towards the end of it, squeezing yourself in between his long legs. You never took your hands off him in the process so Bill was none the wiser about your mischievous movements. So, it was only when Bill heard the creaking of the bed that he looked up in surprise. By then, it was too late. You had already stopped pumping his shaft and leaned in to inhale the sweet musk instead.

“Can I?” you asked, batting your eyelashes.

Bill inhaled sharply, his cock duking out his brain for once the last shred of modesty. Oh, fuck modesty. “Only if you want to.”

In one swift motion, you leaned in and kissed the red and leaking tip. Clearly, it was you who really wanted to do this. When the soft skin of your lips met the soft skin of his head, Bill let out an audible gasp that was immediately swallowed by a throaty moan. He was not expecting you to be so brazen, so generous in your help. Little did he know you’d do anything for him at this point, his own affliction long forgotten.

“How does that feel?” you asked.

“Amazing,” he rasped.

You licked the precum—salty, a little tingly, you noted—off his slit with the tip of your tongue. He tasted so good. Bill threw his head back. The ridges of his abs crinkled as he tried to hold himself upright with his elbows on the bed. He wanted to see you. You smacked your lips, unable to wait patiently to devour your meal. Then, in a moment of pure deviousness and sheer horniness, you enveloped Bill’s tip around your mouth.

“Shit!”

This was the last thing Bill said before he fell back onto the bed. You took that as a sign of surrender; what you were doing felt too good for him to keep his defences up. He’d long stopped giving you instructions and let you take reign. Emboldened, you licked the slit with your tongue with Bill still nestled in your mouth. You then began to take him in further, as far as you could before he reached a natural stopping point at the back of your throat. Your mouth tensed—he was too big to fit comfortably inside. You sucked in your cheeks, hypothesising that a tighter fit would feel better for Bill. Sure, you were inexperienced, but you weren’t stupid or ignorant on the subject of what was pleasurable.

“Yes, that’s it, (Y/N), just like that.”

You forewent your towel in favour of holding onto Bill’s thighs, placing one hand on the side of each of his legs. Still, you pressed your breasts down on the bed to hide your nipples to preserve what little was left for Bill to still see. Then again, what was the point of dignity when his dick was in your mouth?

Bill’s hands quietly crept along the bedsheets and floated towards your head. From there, his long fingers wove and nestled themselves in your hair so deeply that it wouldn’t be easy for you to untangle yourself. Clever of him. His fingernails glided across your scalp, slowly, tenderly, like a predator circling their prey before the attack. Bill then started guiding your head up and down slowly, his patience clearly wearing thin and needing to take matters into his own hands--literally.

“Feeling okay?” he asked.

You nodded, unable to speak. Bill noted this and chuckled. You gave him a pointed look.

“Hard to look intimidating with my cock in your mouth, love,” he said, tightening his fingers around your hair. You grumbled something unintelligible. The wetness leaking out of your core spoke volumes for you.

Bill’s hands were fully entangled in your hair as he continued to lift you up and down. Slow at first, but he could hardly contain himself after the first minute. The way his big cock pulsed in your mouth, gods… The faster he commanded you to move, the more his visage grew streaked from the tears in your eyes. You tightened your grip on his thighs every time his cock glided across your palate and pushed itself down your throat. You did everything in your power to not gag or choke, but when he did strike particularly deep, you pulled off of him immediately.

“I’m sorry,” Bill quickly said. “Was that too much?”

You shook your head, wiped a wet line of tears from your face, coughed, and responded, “No, I’m fine.”

You crawled back to him and engulfed him without another word.

“Ah,” Bill breathed out. “Fuck, (Y/N). You feel so good.”

You shouldn’t be enjoying being used so much, but you loved it. Loved it especially when Bill held you in place and began thrusting into your mouth instead as a means to conserve effort and increase his speed. You were growing wetter and wetter with every compliment he spoke. You imagined Bill’s big hands gripping your hips, stilling you, as he thrust repeatedly into your pussy. You wanted to be used everywhere.

“Shit,” he growled, lazy eyes hovering on you. Deliciously lazy and so hazy. “I’m close.”

He stopped thrusting, but you hadn’t stopped bobbing your head up and down. You were so far gone in your quest to make Bill come that you’d thrown your own needs aside.

“Hold on, (Y/N),” Bill commanded. “Don’t you want to—ah—!”

You knew he’d reached his climax when his hips ascended and stilled above the bed. A deep moan left his mouth. Bill’s cock twitched heavily with every rope of cum that shot its way into your mouth. He didn’t quit until every crevice of your mouth was sloshing with his seed; he was a never-ending faucet of cum.

After a minute, you finally detached yourself from him, careful to keep the fruits of your labour in your mouth and not on the bed sheets that Bill’s mother had laundered so well. You swallowed all the cum in your mouth. It wasn’t as pleasant as the books and films had made it out to be—it was warm and slightly bitter, but it was Bill’s and heaven knew you’d do anything for him.

Bill threw himself back on the bed, his head meeting the pillow with a soft thud. He was still breathing heavily as he reposed. Though his hair stuck wildly to his cheeks—which were slowly regaining colour—his face expressed newfound calm.

Bill patted the pillow beside him, on the spot in between the wall and his body. “Come here,” he rasped, his eyes still closed.

You obliged and scooted upwards. Bill splayed his arm on the pillow to give you a makeshift headrest. You settled into the nook of his bicep. Through the corner of your eye, you stole little glances at Bill and the rise and fall of his chest. A warm, midday breeze fluttered through the open windows, the red curtains billowing out. Everything was so serene, so tranquil, so…Holy shit, what had you just done?

Just three hours ago, you were wistfully staring at Bill at breakfast, grateful to have seen him at all this year to feed your starving crush on him. Now, you were laying naked in his bed with him after giving him what you hoped was an acceptable blowjob. It was both great and terrible that you wouldn’t see him after today. How would you explain this to anyone if you couldn’t even believe it yourself? You needed to bolt and never see Bill again.

Bill snapped you out of your trance. “(Y/N)?”

“Yes, Bill?”

You turned around to find yourself reflected in his crystal blue eyes.

“Would you like to finish, too?”

“Oh, uhm!” Well, you hadn’t expected him to ask you that. “No, I’m okay.” An utter lie. Your pussy was pleading to be fucked. You sat up, preparing yourself to go. “I should finish up with my chores. You should get going before the portkey closes.”

Bill grasped your wrist again. “I don’t want to go.” He sat up with you and looked you straight in the eye.

He was serious. The intensity of his gaze was so overwhelming that you looked down. You sucked a quiet breath in.

“I want to make you feel good,” he said, placing a hand on your cheek. “Let me, please.”

You choked. Was Bill Weasley begging to go down on you? The resolute look on his face definitely extinguished any fight you had left in you. A fraction of a second after you nodded, Bill turned you over and kissed you. One hand remained on your cheek while the other wrapped itself around your naked waist to pull you closer until your chest was flush against his. If you weren’t focussed on how hard his lips were pressed on yours, you would’ve been more embarrassed about how your pert nipples were pressed against his chest. Bill obviously didn’t mind, in fact, he was trying to pull you in as close as possible, closing the last sliver of space between your bodies.

Bill tilted his head to deepen the kiss. His lips felt like hard silk—a walking contradiction— against you and now you wished to feel them everywhere: on your neck, on your breasts, on your stomach and in between your legs. You reckoned he should kiss heavily in between your legs.

Bill was all lean muscle and long limbs. He couldn’t splay out on the bed as easily as you could. He landed on his knees, then shifted you upwards until your head was resting against the baseboard of the bed. He spread your legs with his hands—so big that they absolutely swallowed you—using his thumb as anchors.

He looked back up at you. His eyes had darkened significantly, like a sudden storm that had broken through a clear day. Whatever drug was flowing through his veins, it was only growing more potent. “You’re so wet.”

You made an attempt to shut your legs. You were cycling through moments of confidence and embarrassment, and his words made you want to curl up and die.

“Don’t,” Bill said. “You turn me on so much. Who knew that behind such an innocent facade was a girl begging to be fucked?”

And just like that, your legs fell open in one buttery smooth motion.

”That’s it, such a good girl for me,” Bill praised. He leaned in and ran his tongue flat over your folds. You squirmed but his iron-clad hold on you prohibited any movement. You tried so very hard to quiet yourself as his tongue painted you in oscillating strokes. You gasped whenever he landed briefly on your clitoris. He hummed, pleased, and let the vibrations rock your body. Your breathing was dangerously unsteady as Bill pulled you closer to him and increased the intensity of his tongue. He unlatched one hand from your thigh and shifted them near your drooling entrance. Gently, he inserted a finger. Before you could jump upwards at the intrusion, he brought his tongue back to your clit to massage away any pain. “So sweet,” he hummed again. Bill kept his finger steady inside you until your squirming stopped.

“You’re so tight,” Bill whispered. He added another finger to your already taut hole. “I can barely fit two fingers in here. How do you suppose you’ll take my cock, hm?”

A rhetorical question. Instead of waiting for an answer, Bill began moving his fingers back and forth. You let out a small whine that you buried into the pillow. “Sh, it’s okay, just relax, darling,” Bill assured. In a matter of moments, Bill had gone from shallow little thrusts to burying his fingers to the hilt. The motion of his fingers curling inside you elicited a load moan from your lips, and your legs parted further in response. It was over when his stupid tongue found its way back to your clit; you nearly screamed. He flicked your sensitive bud over and over, building the pressure in the region. Between that, and Bill’s face buried between your legs and the wet sounds of his fingers inside you, you were just one thrust away from coming undone.

“Bill, Bill—” you tried to stop him, too scared to be thrown over the edge. But Bill showed no sign of stopping. When he sucked on your clit, you knew it was over. He had pushed you off the cliff. “Bill!”

You clamped down on his hand, but Bill hadn’t stopped moving; he was intending to fuck you through it. Waves of pleasure, sweetly punctuated by Bill’s nimble fingers, washed over you until you had no coherent thought left. You laid there for a minute, until your heart rate had finally settled back to normal.

“I’m getting impatient,” Bill chuckled. “Seeing you writhe around like that, coming on all over my hand, Merlin..”

You tightened your lips. “Me too.”

“What was that?” he teased, pretending not to hear.

“I’m getting impatient.”

“For what?”

“You know what for.”

He shot you a cocky grin. “I won’t know until you tell me.”

“Fuck me, Bill,” you almost screamed. “Fuck me, please.” It was killing you. You looked down at Bill’s manhood. He looked even harder and fuller than how you found him, if that were even possible. His cock twitched to stand at full attention when you shuffled back to him. You wanted to feel him, so warm and engorged, inside you, splitting you open with how big he was.

“You’re so needy, (Y/N),” Bill teased. He laid down. “Get on top of me, I want to see you.”

You clambered over immediately. You splayed a leg on each side of him and propped yourself up with your knees. Wordlessly, Bill pulled you in and your body listened. He met your lips for another kiss that showed no signs of being broken. Well, not until he decided to latch onto one of your nipples instead. His lips covered the circumference of your areola and sucked gently.

“Bill,” you whimpered, succumbing once again to his dexterous tongue. He swirled around your sensitive bud, flicking it back and forth, and sending little electric shocks down to your toes. You were getting so, so wet for him.

One of Bill’s hands trailed down to his cock and gave it a couple of strokes before he aimed it towards your core. You moaned every time he pressed against your throbbing clit before moving back to your opening and repeating the motion. You needed to come again, and Bill was intent on bringing you there. He rubbed the head back and forth, concentrating the slick to where he eventually wanted to be. He was showing great restraint; it was taking everything not to just thrust into you.

“You already feel so good,” he praised. “So wet, so tight, love, all for me. I can’t wait to fuck this tight pussy.”

Bill piled on the words and continued to ravish your breasts as a distraction of what was to come. The head of his cock was directly aligned with your opening that was weeping at the thought of him inside you. But the largest thing you’d taken ever were Bill’s fingers; he couldn’t possibly fit without absolutely destroying you. The universe couldn’t have gifted you with a warm-up, could it? Instead, it gifted you the girth of Bill. Still, you remained in place, readying yourself as he began to enter you.

You gasped at the first intrusion. You clenched Bill’s forearms in retaliation, your mouth parting in shock. You wanted him badly, but your anatomy wasn’t letting your desires take the front seat.

Bill placed a hand on your back. Stiff. “You’re tense,” he noted, kissing up on your neck. “Just relax. It’ll feel good, I promise.” You nodded, trusting him.

“Hngh—!” was all you let out when he pushed deeper. Your breathing fell out of sync as you tried to calm yourself. Maybe this was it, and all of him was already inside of it.

“That’s just my head inside you, love,” Bill stated, as if reading your mind.

You paled. “How are you so big?”

Bill chuckled in agreement before swallowing you in a kiss. His tongue found its way into your mouth, and you could taste the pure need radiating off him. He gave little shallow thrusts, trying to ease himself into you. Though it still burned heavily, a ring of pain, as he stretched you out, Bill’s pace was making it much more tolerable and frankly, more erotic.

When he was halfway in, Bill’s eyes fell shut in utter bliss. His hands gripped your ass cheeks, pulling them apart, as if it would help you sink further down on him.

“You take me so well,” he said as he continued impaling your poor little pussy. He never stopped littering you with kisses, whether it was on your lips, cheeks, neck, or breasts. He suckled your tits again when he rammed the thickest part of him inside you in one thrust.

You stifled a cry into the crook of his neck and tightened your arms around him. “Bill!”

“Give it a minute, (Y/N),” he assured, but his voice sounded garbled, so far away. “I promise, it’s going to feel so good.”

When he felt you relax a little, Bill began to increase the length of his thrusts, breaking into your pussy a little more each time. You fell onto him, the pleasure beginning to overwrite the pain.

Bill moaned as he sped up the slightest. “You’re so tight, (Y/N), tighter than I could’ve ever imagined.” His words only added fuel to the fire. “I can’t believe it’s me that gets to break into your pussy.”

“Then break me, Bill,” you pleaded. “Please. Harder.”

He chuckled. “You don’t have to ask twice.”

Bill looped his arms around you to hold you in place. From there, he began to drive himself into you faster, harder, just like a hole to be used for his pleasure, just like you had asked.

“Oh!”

You could hardly keep your eyes open as he assaulted your body. He tested different depths and angles, watching your facial expressions for the perfect one. His long, deep strokes were landing on the perfect place - a place that had you seeing stars. So pleasurable but just millimetres away from being too much, too painful. There was so much of him inside you. Your legs stiffened, almost cramping, as the heat increased in pitches in your core. Your hands went wild, trying to find a place to stabilise your body. They found refuge on the top of the headboard. In one particularly hard thrust, he sheathed himself completely inside you, the widest part of him spearing you open.

That was the precise moment you came undone, screaming. White obfuscated your vision as you lost control of your body. You convulsed on him, your pussy contracting around his cock like a vice. Bill continued to fuck you through your orgasm, bottoming out in you repeatedly, letting you ride out the pleasure for as long as humanely possible. You fell onto him like a rag doll, limp, worn out from your second orgasm. Bill could only smile at a job well done. He withdrew himself from you and flipped you over. He nestled his manhood back between your legs. You watched with excitement as his cock, covered in your cream, sprang to his navel. You felt so hollow without him inside you, and you were about to beg for him again, but he moved quickly. He leaned towards you, placing the head of his cock to your opening once again. But instead of delving into you like you had hoped, he rubbed himself against you, occasionally pushing into you the slightest.

Confused, you raised your hips up, trying to align yourself perfectly with his cock and push him back in. But your attempts were futile.

“Don’t do that,” you chastised when you realised he was doing this on purpose.

“Do what?” Bill asked innocently.

“Tease me like this.”

He smirked. “Who said I was teasing you?”

Just as you were about to retort, Bill drove himself into you when you were least expecting it, burying himself entirely into you. Your body shivered in pleasure, legs straightening and stiffening. You screamed when he quickened his pace, pounding into you with deep, full thrusts. His hands gripped your bouncing breasts, keeping them in place and occasionally pinching your nipples. Bill pushed himself to the hilt, then almost withdrew completely, before filling you up again as hard as he could. At certain points, he would hit a bundle of nerves that caused your toes to curl. At some point, you couldn’t tell the difference between pain and pleasure—it all felt so overwhelmingly good.

The lewd sound of his balls hitting your skin was heaven to your ears. In this moment, you wanted nothing more than to be filled with his seed.

“Come inside me,” you near screamed.

Your little request was enough to break Bill out of his trance. “What?”

“Come inside me,” you repeated.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

With no reason to ask you to clarify again, Bill obliged. He gave a couple more thrusts, so powerful it forced your body to slide up over the bedsheets and your head to almost slam into the headboard. Then, he let out a loud, choked grunt, his eyes screwing shut. You could feel his cock twitch heavily inside you as he deposited his seed, filling your pussy. He hovered over you, exhausted, draining every last bit of him inside you. Both of you shared the same laboured respiration. You reached up and pushed back the ginger hair that was strewn across his forehead.

Bill began to soften inside you, but refused to pull out just yet. If you stayed here like this any longer, there was no doubt you’d meld together into one.

With a heavy almost regretful breath, Bill reluctantly removed himself out of you. You felt his cum trickling rapidly out of you and onto the bed sheets. You sat up to look. There was so much. it was smeared all over your sex, all over your inner thighs, and all over the sheets. There was no doubt there was more deep inside you.

You looked up at Bill. Much to your disappointment, he looked to be back to his usual, happy self. Your services were no longer required. And much to your disappointment, he was looking around for his briefs. Well, it wasn’t like you could stay in paradise forever.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he said.

“Of course,” you responded.

Bill gave you a small peck on the lips which made you smile. Then, it all went downhill from there, as he returned not more than a second later for another kiss. This time, deeper, thick with more lust. The next kiss, he had you pinned you on the bed by the arms. Unexpectedly, you felt him harden against you once more. His cock was back its previous stiffness and trying to find its way back to your cunt.

He paused. “I’m not sure what’s gotten into me,” Bill admitted sheepishly.

“You mean you’re not usually like this?” you questioned with a smile. You didn’t mind it, not one bit.

He contemplated it. “It has been a while, but it’s highly unlikely for me to go twice, let alone three times a day.”

“Really?” You cocked your head. “Is that not—”

Before you could speak, Bill plunged himself into you once more. Your mouth went slack. It was quite an effective way to shut you up. Most of his spend was still either deep inside you or running down your inner thighs, but he was intent on pumping you full of him even more.

You had no complaints. Instead, you succumbed to the wet sloshes of his thrusts and messy kisses once again.

…..

In a tent one long Portkey away from the Burrow, a very different conversation was taking place.

“How do you reckon our Paradise Potions did?”

“Considering that Bill hasn’t joined us, I’d say pretty well.”

END!

Part 2

#bill weasley smut #bill weasley x you #bill weasley x y/n #bill weasley x reader #smut #bill weasley imagine #why am i so horny!!#sex pollen #kinktober

1K notes · View notes

mononijikayu · 30 days ago

Text

rank em’ up — ryomen sukuna.

“Sometimes I wear that fitted tank top you like.” His breath hitched. The reaction was immediate, primal. A low, guttural sound rumbled in his chest. Somewhere between a growl and a threat. It was like he was being challenged and invited at the same time. His hand finally moved, landing on your thigh with a grip just shy of bruising, like his body decided for him. It was to keep you close or the building burns down. That’s just how it was with him.

Genre: Alternate Universe — Volleyball! AU;

Warning/s: General Rating, AFAB! Reader, Use of She/Her, Use of Female Centered Identification, Pet Names (Babe, My Love, Baby, Etc), Romance, Fluff, Humour, Love, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Lovers, Marriage, Feeling, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Idiots In Love, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Teasing, Healthy Relationship, Friendships, Profanity, Long Distance Relationship, Frustration, Volleyball Pro! Sukuna, Astrophysicist! Reader, Husband! Sukuna, Wife! Reader;

Words: 3k words.

Notes: i have so many other stuff i haven't worked on yet because ive been so busy but i hope you enjoy this anyway. it's short but it something that's inspired me because its so funny to see how people reacted. i thought of volleyball sukuna. anyway, enjoy!!! i love you all <3

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IT WAS SUCH A GREAT WAY TO OPEN THE NEW SEASON. He was so excited to play when he woke up. He was working hard to make this happen, along with his team. The Tokyo Great Bears had just won their first season match, and Ryomen Sukuna was already in a foul mood.

Not because they lost or ended up almost losing the game. That’s not the case at all. They’d crushed it on the court, as usual. With his leadership, of course there would be victory. That's just how it is when he's in the court with his boys.

He wasn’t annoyed about anything at court, no. He also was not tired or sore or annoyed with his teammates. No, Ryomen Sukuna’s rising irritation had a very specific source.

You. Well, more precisely, him and you, specifically you, in the hands of the team’s social media newly hired intern. The young person who had approached you and Sukuna, just right after the game with a little nervous smile on their face.

They were holding up a phone like it was a puppy. But to Ryomen Sukuna, that smile felt like one that was something that could only come from being stuck without any choices within the endless fields of a land mine.

He had no doubt that the actual manager was roaming around somewhere, slacking in their job for once. He doesn't participate much in the social media thing going on for the club, but everyone's more open about it.

Especially that kid Itadori. That kid enjoys doing all the trends too much. That's why he goes viral a lot. But that means the manager always goes around following him. And Itadori always runs around through the building.

That's why he liked to think that the manager was taking a moment to relax for once, without having to go all around the building to take a video and immediately sending it to be edited to be quickly posted.

But it was rough, because now this kid doesn't know that he actually doesn't do much social media work like his other teammates. And now, they're stuck trying to convince him to do it like they're life depends on it.

"Hey Sukuna-san! Quick content bit—can we grab you for a TikTok filter game?"

“No,” he said flatly, his hand still intertwined with yours.

“My love, let them speak—”

“I told them I’m not doing media day today, I’m gonna hog you to myself.” He says, almost in a pout at you. “Baby, I didn’t see you these past few days. Let me have this.”

You raised a brow at your husband. “You saw me this morning at breakfast, and bed before that and then—”

“Shhhhh, that’s not the point, baby!”

"Please, we did it with everyone else too! Everyone said yes, too!”

Sukuna turns back at them, narrowing his scarlet eyes. “But I wanna keep saying no.”

“B–but! Sukuna–san! It’s just a fun thing!” the poor intern stammered, clearly on the brink of losing what little composure he had left.

One shaky hand clutched the phone, already recording, while the other made an awkward little waving motion. It was like he was trying to physically push the awkward tension away. Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t listening.

He had you tucked under his arm, big palms splayed possessively across your hip, pulling you closer and closer like he thought someone might come and physically steal you right then and there in the middle of the post-game lounge.

“We’ll be using a TikTok filter!” the intern tried again, voice cracking. “You’ll just be ranking the sports you want to see your wife try. The filter picks them randomly—just quick reactions!”

You, eternal chaos agent, perked up in his grip like the phrase “your wife” was an activation spell. You twisted just enough to beam up at Sukuna, practically glowing. You practically try to remove yourself from your husband’s touch.

You were too intrigued by TikTok lately, your husband knew that. You joined the hype train a little too late, but that was to be expected. You were too busy with your day to day work life!

But now you got some rest from your very busy every day life and with your honeymoon still ongoing, you wanted to look up things to watch while on the flight and wanted to learn new things.

Your interests change from time to time. It was just how it was lately, you think to yourself. Sometimes, it's correcting bad videos with misinfo about space or maybe even the bad physics fact videos.

Sometimes, it's recipes to try to make it easy to eat, high quality meals for you and Sukuna to try. Sometimes, it’s pretty little dresses for your little doggo Marin. There's a lot of worlds to explore for you.

Sukuna is often confused, though. Your husband was the most offline person you’ve ever met in your life. The only social media he actually has is Instagram and that was just because he has to post about his sponsorships. Other than that, it was your day to day life together with Marin…..Which he posts once in a blue moon.

But you can’t judge him for that — you were just as private as him when it comes to your own life together. What pictures of you and Sukuna which are out there are either from his rare posts, media posts or his fanclub seeing you together somewhere.

TikTok was your only account. And somehow, it’s too addicting. You just can’t catch up. But when you do catch up, you think to yourself that it’s an achievement. Your latest intrigue lately was these little ranking filters, especially ones between couples.

You have only watched people do it, of course. You have no thought of doing it yourself. Well, at least that’s what you tell yourself. But now that the opportunity, it was way too tempting. You grinned at the young intern.

“Ooh, that sounds fun.”

Sukuna slowly turned his head to you with the exaggerated menace of a mafia boss betrayed by his right hand. “For who?”

You gave him that smile. The one that curled at the corner like you were plotting and worshipping him in equal measure. The one that made his chest tighten and his jaw clench and his brain shut down in ways that had absolutely nothing to do with sports rankings.

“You love ranking things, you know!” you said, poking him lightly in the ribs. “You do that with your favorite volleyball players. You even ranked the types of towels at the hot spring last weekend.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Because those towels were categorically different, and one of them stole moisture like a desert wind—”

“Exactly! Channel that energy, my love. Use that control-freak brain for good.”

The intern looked between the two of you like he wasn’t sure whether to be afraid, impressed, or violently single. Ryomen Sukuna stared at you a moment longer, an expression carved from granite.

Then, with a growl of defeat, he released you with one last tug and stood, dragging a chair into the center of the frame with all the grace of a man about to be executed.

He plopped down like gravity had quadrupled, crossed his arms over his chest, and shot the camera a dead-eyed glare that could wilt a tree.

“You owe me so much later.” he muttered, pointedly.

You skipped into the edge of the frame, camera still rolling, cheeks aching from trying to suppress your smile. You leaned in to whisper, “Maybe I’ll wear that sundress you seem to hate.”

“Don’t tempt me to break this phone, baby.” he gritted, his ears slowly turning red.

You smirked at him. “Oh, I dare, my love.”

The intern swallowed hard at your interaction, a blush on their face and hit the start on the filter. The game almost instantly began, that’s what made you giggle. Ryomen Sukuna was already losing it, you can see. The filter started to spin finally.

“I guess this is what I’m ranking, sports….I would let my wife do with another person.” Sukuna says, almost too awkwardly and too loudly all at once. “Fuck, this is ridiculous.”

🧘‍♀️YOGA.

You saw the way his fuschia brow twitched before he even spoke. “Absolutely fucking not. No way I’m letting my baby do that. No fucking way.” he said.

"Why not?" the intern asked innocently, a bit stunned at Sukuna’s crassness. “Sukuna-san, please—”

He shot them a glare like he was considering how much bail money he could afford. "Too many bendy poses. Too much touching. Strangers breathing near her. Eyes everywhere. You want me to die early?"

You laughed. Loudly. He turned toward you and narrowed his eyes. “My love, that’s too much!”

“Nah, nah, valid fucking concern.”

The filter spun again.

🏊‍♀️SWIMMING.

He squinted. “In what? A wetsuit? A bikini? A competition-grade Speedo? Because if it's anything less than a full-body NASA suit, I’m out.”

“My love—” you started, already cracking up once again. “Please!”

"Eyes. Skin. Wet hair. I’m having a stroke just imagining it. No. Tied with yoga for the bottom. To my wife’s fine—"

“I feel so honored, my love.” you deadpanned.

He ignored you and leaned forward slightly, glaring into the camera like the filter itself had offended his ancestors. You shake your head, unable to stop smiling as you stare at him and focus on what is next to his trenches.

🥊BOXING.

Sukuna paused. “...Hmm.”

“Oh no, my love.” you said, already suspicious. “Don’t say what I think you’re gonna say!”

“That’s kind of hot, baby. I gotta admit that.” he admitted grudgingly. “Strong stance. Gloves. Focused eyes. You’d look like a menace.”

You arched a brow. “So it’s number one?”

“No, it’s also bottom tier. Someone might land a hit on you. I’d get too angry. And I’ll have to land them in the ER.”

"Please, Sukuna–san." the intern whispered, finally relaxing into shaking laughter. "You're killing me."

“That’s how it is everyday!” You giggled fondly, as the filter whirled again. “What’s coming up next?”

🧗‍♀️ROCK CLIMBING.

Sukuna didn’t even blink. “No.”

"Why not?"

“She’d be in a harness.”

“So?”

“People would be below her.”

“And?”

He turned to you slowly. “You think I’m okay with strangers craning their necks to admire your gravitational pull? Babe, that pull is pretty fine. I’m sorry. No one else should be staring there.”

You choked on your juice. “My what now?”

“Your backside, woman. What, baby? You don’t want me to blur it out? I need people to not know! The hyenas of the world exist!”

You were gone the moment he said that out loud. Doubled over on the wall and then onto the floor, shoulders shaking, a full wheeze slipping out as your laughter became borderline undignified.

“Sukuna–san, that’s so…..”

Sukuna’s ears flushed. He looked back at the camera. “Stop encouraging her. We’re never doing this again, you hear me?”

🎾TENNIS.

The silence stretched.

He frowned. “...Tennis is...fine.”

You blinked at him. “Really?”

“You’d look good, baby.” he admitted, teeth grinding. “Hair tied up. That little skirt. Focused face. Confident swings. Probably muttering equations under your breath between serves. It’d be.....ugh. It’s number one, okay? But it’s barely number one. Because it’s still a problem.”

"Why is everything a problem?"

“Because you’re the problem, baby.” he said bluntly, gesturing wildly. “You make everything look too good. Too hot. Too intimate. And I can’t let people be wild hyenas over you! I’m not ranking sports, I’m ranking threats to my sanity.”

The camera zoomed in slightly. Sukuna leaned closer, eyes dark and intense. “Stop giving her ideas. Please, I’m begging you. I’m confused enough—”

Off-camera, the intern died laughing. “That was amazing, thank you. I’m….I’m so sorry!”

Sukuna held up a hand. “Don’t post that. I swear to god.”

“Oh, we absolutely are, my love.” you said, snatching the phone and saving the video for yourself. “It’s going in our shared album. Title: ‘My Husband Goes Feral Over Hypotheticals.’”

He grunted. “Do it and I’m deleting the whole cloud.”

“Do you even know how to do that?”

“.......I’ll ask Fushiguro.”

You stood and walked over to him once again, still grinning. You leaned down and whispered into his ear. “I actually do yoga when you're not home, my love.”

His entire body tensed. “You what?”

“Every Tuesday.”

A pause. The kind of pause that felt like the universe itself was holding its breath. Ryomen Sukuna didn’t move at first. He just stared at you, his expression unreadable. His brows slightly drawn, jaw tight, that vein in his neck ticking like a warning light.

His hands, previously resting in his lap, twitched. One flexed open like he meant to grab your waist. His other one was curled slowly into a fist, as if trying to physically restrain himself from committing several Class A felonies.

It was a moment where even gravity seemed to hesitate, uncertain whether to let him fall into you or launch into combustion. You leaned in close. Rather closer than necessary. Your mouth brushing the curve of his cheekbone as you leaned in to whisper, light as starlight.

“Sometimes I wear that fitted tank top you like.”

His breath hitched. The reaction was immediate, primal. A low, guttural sound rumbled in his chest. Somewhere between a growl and a threat. It was like he was being challenged and invited at the same time.

His hand finally moved, landing on your thigh with a grip just shy of bruising, like his body decided for him. It was to keep you close or the building burns down. That’s just how it was with him.

You pulled back just far enough to see your husband’s face and god, the look he gave you could melt satellites. Half-possessive, half-exasperated, fully undone. You slyly smiled at your husband, moving to the side, still keeping your eyes at him.

“You think you’re clever, huh?” he muttered, voice hoarse.“Just dropping words like that when I’m still sweaty from a game and trying not to do something stupid, hm?”

“I know I’m clever,my love.” you replied sweetly.

That did it. The intern, who had remained frozen like a woodland creature sensing the arrival of a predator, chose that moment to flee. No words, no goodbye. It was just a full, panicked retreat with phone clutched to chest and eyes wide like he’d just stared into the sun for too long.

You watched him go, lips twitching with amusement. Ryomen Sukuna didn’t. His scarlet gaze never left you. “You’re wearing it now, aren’t you?” he asked, voice low.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, my love.” you teased, rising to your feet and deliberately turning away, just slow enough for him to notice the cling of the fabric beneath your hoodie.

His next growl practically echoed down the corridor. “Oh, you’re going to regret that, baby.”

You looked over your shoulder, smiled, and added, “Catch me first.”

epilogue

Another win. Another brutal set dominated by Sukuna’s spikes, blocks, and terrifying court presence. He should be basking in the usual press attention right now. The game stats, strategies, MVP chants echoing through the stadium.

Instead, it’s something else for him tonight. Instead, he sat at the post-game press table for the first time, feeling that different vibe. He could feel his jaw clenched, arms folded across his broad chest.

He was narrowly flanked by the head coach and two teammates, all the while the reporters all but vibrated with their raised hands and nosy grins. The first question wasn’t even remotely about the game.

“Yes, uh, Sukuna-san, good evening.” It was when a new young reporter began, trying not to smile too obviously. “Congratulations on the win once again. More importantly…Has your wife ranked your hobbies yet?”

A wave of laughter rippled through the room. Sukuna stared at them. Slowly. “I thought this was a volleyball press conference.” he said darkly. “Must be in the wrong room, huh?”

“Come on, Sukuna-san!” another chimed in, undeterred. “The TikTok from last week has over five million views. You’ve been dubbed ‘Volleyball’s Most Jealous Husband’! Care to comment?”

“Dubbed by who?”

“Most of Japan. And parts of the South-east Asia.” Someone offered helpfully. “I think some parts of Central Asia too!”

“It’s trending in Europe and the US now!” Another supplies, with a grin.

Another reporter laughs. “Asia now too—Oh, Africa too!”

"Oh, South America now too!" The other reporter in the back says. His eyes was shining. "Ohhhhh, there's edits now!"

The teammate next to him stifled a laugh behind his water bottle. Sukuna’s eyes twitched. He shakes his head, taking a moment to compose himself. He lifts his head, lifting the water bottle and starting to drink.

“I really should stop doing things like this at all. I can’t stand you all like this.”

Another reporter raised her hand with a barely concealed grin. “Is it true your wife wore the tank top again this week?”

Sukuna inhaled sharply through his nose. “That information is classified.”

More laughter. “But Sukuna–san, does this mean that you have to get a new supply?”

“That’s not going to be paid by you, is it?”

The coach cleared his throat gently. “If we could focus on—”

“Just one more question, please?” begged a voice from the back. “Is it true you showed up to her yoga class yesterday and almost fought the instructor?”

Ryomen Sukuna didn’t answer at first. His darkened scarlet gaze dropped to the table. Then, with the slow menace of a man who has zero regrets, he leaned into the mic and said in a low, gravelly tone to them.

“I’ll fight anyone who touches her shoulders and breathes like that again.”

The press room exploded. Flashes. Giggles. A round of applause. The coach buried his face in his hands. This is what he’s had to deal with for years. For a moment, he couldn’t help but reflect on how he ended up here. Just as much as Sukuna has.

“Next question.” Sukuna barked over the chaos.

A hand shot up. “Are you planning to do a couples TikTok next—?”

“No. Never again. It was the biggest mistake of my life. Next.”

Another raised their hand, and stood up with a mic on hand. “Can you ask your wife if she’ll do a ranking of your best uniform looks?”

“She already did.” Sukuna muttered, not realizing his mic was still hot. “But I’m not sharing everything on that.”

That got everyone quiet. Ryomen Sukuna had answered that way too quickly. People couldn’t help but grin and whisper when he was lowering his head again, his ears reddened at the thought that he had started another situation he wanted to get out of, immediately.

“Wait—what ranked first?” a reporter whispered, practically leaning over the desk.

Sukuna shifted in his chair, visibly uncomfortable. “...The away kit.”

“Why?” A journalist furrowed their brow.

Another pause. Then another looked at him, raising their hand. “Yeah…..is there….Is there a reason?”

“Because…..” he ground out, glaring at the far wall. “She said the gray makes my thighs look ‘criminal’ and it makes her feel like….kicking her feet. Her words, not mine.”

An uproar of laughter. Cameras clicking. Someone openly fanned themselves. He stood abruptly, clearing his throat. He was even more red now than ever before. Almost as red as the color of his eyes, which narrowed.

“Alright, you guys have no volleyball questions. We’re done here.”

As he stormed offstage, reporters shouting behind him, his phone buzzed. It was a message from you. He gulped, trying to gather himself.

He sighs deeply as he unlocks his screen again. You have too much time on your hands right now. And he knew you were intently, closely, watching on your phone.

[📸 image attached: you in his away jersey, barefoot, mug of tea in hand]

“Your wife wasn’t wrong, sir.” ❤️

Ryomen Sukuna stopped in the hallway and stared at the screen, deadpan. He muttered under his breath, feeling himself too warm for his own good.

He lets his hand rest on his lips, trying to control himself for a moment. The red eyed man steadies himself, his mind calculating how quickly he could get home as soon as possible.

“…....God help the next man who asks about my thighs.”

376 notes · View notes

les4elliewilliams · 1 year ago

Text

Happy together.

Officer!Ellieㄨ fem reader

a/n: i honestly don't know how to feel about this but it took me ages to write so i'm going to post it anyway. also enjoy the trashy lil pic i edited of my wife😌// @sapphichotmess is gonna get soapy boobies pics for proofreading this. i love you you're amazing.

cw/wc: 17k ! murders/violence, mention of blood (I don't think it's that bad but if you're sensitive to this type of stuff just scroll), officer!ellie x waitress!reader, (tw) Eminem, smut, breeding kink, handcuffs😔, strap-on sex (r!receiving), thigh riding (e!receiving), use of pet names like (mama, princess, babe etc), and uhhh that's it i believe?? lmk if i missed something.

daily click・palestine masterpost・neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks.

The Police Station – Late Night – September 11th, 2018.

The auburnette released a heavy, exaggerated sigh, her weariness palpable as she delicately brushed the rough, calloused palms of her hands against her fatigued face, a few stray strands of hair cascading gently across her features, capturing the attention of her colleague. His eyes lifted towards his friend, a concerned furrow appearing on his face as he took in the haunting purple shadows under her eyes, a poignant reflection of her exhaustion.

"You look like shit, man," He suddenly exclaimed, the tips of his fingers dancing on the smooth plastic caps of his laptop.

"Awh, thanks, that's so sweet," She reclined in her office chair, the weight of the day's paperwork momentarily forgotten. It felt as though she had been sitting there for an eternity, each and every cell of her body yearning and longing for her wife. With her shift drawing to a close, she could hardly contain her anticipation of returning home to you, just so that she could feel the warmth of your embrace and perhaps resume the intimate and passionate encounters you had shared last night.

The boy leaned back in his chair, and a smug smirk spread across his face. "You look like you haven't slept," His gaze shifted back to his friend, who was sitting at her desk across the room, her eyes tired and her shoulders slumped.

"'Cause I haven't," she uttered, shaking her head. A light, airy puff of air escaped her chapped lips as her fingers danced through her locks, coaxing burnished stray strands away from her face.

"How are things going with your girl?" He gave her a questioning look, as if silently asking what was going on. It struck him that she hadn't complained about her marriage in a while.

Her response was a mere nod as she admitted, "Pretty good, actually." However, her gaze remained unfocused, her mind elsewhere as she replayed the previous night's memories in her head. Your moans echoed in her ears while the image of your ecstatic expressions played on repeat, like a broken video tape stuck on a single scene.

"Really?"

He was the one she trusted wholeheartedly. In the darkest hours of her marital struggles, she sought refuge in Jesse's ever-present presence. Hours would slip away as she poured out her heart to him until the early light of dawn or until their shift was over. Yet, he never seemed to mind 'cause his friends' problems were his problems.

After a great four years together, where you and she shared an uncanny kinship and complemented each other like two puzzle pieces, things took a gradual turn for the worse. Heated arguments began to erupt frequently, fueled by petty disagreements about insignificant matters such as the shoes left by the door, piles of unwashed dishes on the living room coffee table, or the kitchen table. Over time, both of you grew tired of this never-ending cycle of conflict.

Dr. Diaz was remarkable in his ability to guide both of you in honing your communication skills and learning how to make each other feel truly heard. It felt like a fresh start with someone you already knew so well and had shared countless memories with. Initially, walking out of your first session was an uncomfortable experience, leaving you feeling almost overly exposed, as if you had revealed too much. The ride back home was filled with an awkward silence that was unfamiliar, never in your life you felt awkward around her, not even once. A few small sighs escaped occasionally, both of you remaining silent until you finally returned home.

"Yeah."

His warm smile spoke volumes as he offered reassuring words to her, "Told you it was just a matter of time. Dina and I have been through it, too, before."

She sat comfortably in her weathered chair, leaning back slightly as she pushed herself away from her sturdy wooden desk. "Speaking of Dina, how's she holdin’ up?" her mind suddenly shifted to a very pregnant Dina who was already eight months along and was about to explode at any second.

The raven-haired man imperceptibly shrugged his shoulders "Y'know, pregnancy hormones—what the doctor said."

She let out a soft snort, a half-smile gracing her lips. "Have you settled on the names?" she inquired.

He sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "We keep fighting over it," he admitted, "She wants to name him-" before he could finish his sentence, an announcement echoing through the hallway of the department caught Ellie's and his attention simultaneously. They stood up abruptly, exchanging concerned glances and rushed out of the small room with a sense of urgency.

"A 140, where?" Ellie's voice quivered, her heart hoping against hope that she had misheard the news. Worry painted itself across her freckled face, etching lines of concern amidst the constellation of her pretty freckles.

It couldn't be. No, it couldn't.

Color drained from her face, and she grew paler than the moon, the realization hitting her like a sudden storm. It was the same diner where you worked, and worry consumed her like a relentless tide.

They made their way towards Jesse's car with lightning speed, both fully aware that Ellie was in no condition to get behind the wheel. She urged Jesse to drive faster, her heart thudding like crazy in her ribcage. She tried to call you countless times, but you never answered. Her palms turned clammy, her hands trembling like fragile leaves in the wind.

"Fuckin' hurry up." The car swerved erratically, anxiety emanating from every pore of her skin. Her voice grew louder and more forceful as she shouted at Jesse, who held the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"We’re gonna crash if we go any faster than this," he raised his voice back at her, feeling all the pressure and tension of the world on his shoulders, but at the same time, he couldn't blame her.

The Diner – Late Night – September 11th, 2018.

As they reached the crime scene, her eyes were immediately drawn to the stark sight of yellow tape cordoning off the area. The tape fluttered gently in the breeze, creating an almost surreal barrier. Beyond it, the solemn figures of police officers moved with purpose, their expressions a mix of determination and concern.

A lone officer stood at the forefront, diligently jotting down notes, while another leaned in to share crucial details about the tragic event. Their hushed conversations hinted at the weight of the situation as they sought to unravel the enigma of the killer's intentions. "I've never seen anything like this 'round here before. The killer must have acted out of rage or passion. There must be a reason," The freckled girl strained to hear the officers' hushed conversation, her stomach sinking with each word.

As she moved closer, they swiftly barred her way. The scene unfolded like a haunting painting—the diner's floor marked by crimson footsteps. She couldn't tell if it was the officer's grim descriptions or the frigid night air that sent shivers down her spine.

"Williams, they are already taking care of it, just wait here and-"

"No, no, no, listen—I have to go in there. My wife works here." She desperately attempted to push through the two middle-aged men, but they held her back with ease. Her voice quivered with fear as she begged to reach you. Were you harmed? Were you in pain? Were you...alive?

Her face was like a canvas of worry, etched with lines of concern. With a graceful shrug, she brushed off the unwelcome hands on her shoulders, "Who's the victim?" she feared what the answer to her question would be, but she needed to know. Her brows were furrowed with worry as she waited for a response, her eyes brimming with fear. "Pleaseplease—Tell me it's not her." She pleaded with such desperation and worry on your behalf that the two men couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. They saw the depth of her love and concern for you, and what touched them the most was that they knew you.

Every day, you would lovingly pack a lunch, a sweet treat, or even a hearty dinner to bring to her at work. Your kindness shone through like a warm beam of sunlight, always in a cheerful mood with a genuine smile on your face as you chatted with her colleagues, asking them about their day and thanking them for their service before returning to your routine.

Ellie stood before the men, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. One of the men heaved a deep, mournful sigh that echoed in the stillness, and he shook his head gravely, his lips drawn into a tight, sorrowful frown.

"Your wife is currently being interrogated as she was present when the murder occurred," Officer Johnson explained to the younger girl, his voice low and measured. She let out a long sigh of relief as his words reached her ears, finally being able to remove the image of you lying in a pool of blood from her mind.

While she felt guilty about it, she couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that it wasn't you the one who had been brutally murdered. It was a twisted and sick feeling, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders even though a girl had been brutally murdered. She was grateful that you were still alive, safe, and healthy, at least as far as she knew. She longed to be there for her wife, to wrap her arms around you and hold you tight. She wanted to comfort you, to reassure you that everything would be okay, even though she wasn't entirely sure herself.

"Please, I need to see her." She kept pleading and pleading until her colleagues finally relented and let her slip past the bright plastic tape. She raced into the diner and quickly scanned the scene. Blood stained the floor, and the door to the back room was left wide open. Blood was pooled on the floor, with a corpse lying beneath a white sheet. Vanessa Harding was now a lifeless corpse. As Ellie surveyed the carnage, her heart ached at the sight of you sobbing on the retro sofa as an investigator tried to coax answers out of you. But you seemed completely lost in your own world, clearly shaken.

The sound of her voice calling out your name as she approached you with a mix of eagerness and concern seemed to blend with the rest of the background chatter as you found yourself unable to shake off your daze. Her trembling hands found their place on your shoulders, gently pushing the agent who was interrogating you aside. A glimpse of concern crossed her eyes as she took in the blood stains on your once-blue waitress uniform. Her heart ached at the sight of you. She hesitated, fighting the urge to pull you into a comforting hug, knowing that maintaining some distance was best in such moments. What mattered was that you were okay, healthy, at least.

The investigator began to speak, but Ellie quickly turned her head towards him, fixing him with a death glare. Her body stiffened as she shielded you from his view. "Can't you see she's having a full-on mental breakdown? We're not supposed to interrogate people in this state," she stated firmly, her voice cold and harsh.

The officer took a step back, sighing in frustration. "I'll be back in a minute." He announced, and with that, he left the room, leaving the two of you alone beside a few medical examiners and other colleagues doing their job, the light chatting becoming a white noise for the both of you.

You sat there, absentmindedly consumed by your thoughts, when a melodic voice penetrated your haze. You lifted your gaze to find a concerned Ellie standing before you, her presence initially unnoticed. Despite her ongoing comforting words, you were too engrossed in your own thoughts to truly register her. It wasn't until she drew a chair and sat right in front of you that your focus shifted completely. When your vacant eyes now met hers, you broke down again.

Your voice quivered as you whispered, "E-ellie..." as tears streamed down your face and your bottom lip trembled. You felt a sudden wave of relief as her hands gently cupped your face, and her thumb caressed your cheekbone.

Her comforting voice soothed your soul as she whispered, "I was so worried, baby. I'm here now, ‘m here." You cried harder, but this time, it was tears of gratitude and love. Her presence made you feel like nothing could hurt you anymore because she was there. You felt safe in her embrace like everything was going to be okay.

"I was getting off my- and she… she... I tried, I really tried-" Your words were tangled and muttered, barely above a whisper. You shook profusely, completely consumed by the traumatic event that had just unfolded. Ellie could sense the terror and dread in your voice, and she swiftly drew you closer, encircling you in a comforting embrace. She held you tight, her palm soothingly stroking your head, creating a soothing effect that gradually calmed your trembling. She whispered gentle words of reassurance in your ear, imploring you to calm down and promising safety. Her voice was a soothing balm, its effect helping to assuage your rattled nerves. It was all you needed, she was all you needed.

It was as if she had an uncanny knack for dispelling your fears and nerves "Shhhshh" She quieted you gently, her words evoking a profound sense of gratitude within you for having someone so attuned to your emotions in your life. "You're safe, you're safe." As she drew back, she slipped off her jacket and gently draped it over your shoulders, ensuring you were warm and at ease, hoping to stop your turmoil. "S'okay…I gotchu." She continued to softly whisper reassurances in your ear, soothing your worries away with the knowledge that everything would turn out alright. In that instant, the entire world seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of you in the present moment.

After a few moments had passed, you had noticeably calmed down, prompting Ellie to allow the officer who had been interrogating you earlier to resume his task. She stood closely beside him as he launched into a string of questions, his pen scrawling diligently on his notebook.

"So you got off your shift, you returned to retrieve your keys, and found her dead, is that correct?" The old man recapitulated your statement, his gaze shifting between your barely exposed uniform beneath your wife's jacket and the bloodstains marking your clothing. He further inquired, "And you slipped on the blood?" His eyes remained fixated on the bloodstains that adorned your uniform, while your gaze remained locked on the bloodied footprints on the floor, you responded with a small shake of your head.

"I was kneeling in the blood, trying to bring her back, but there was no heartbeat. I freaked out. I wanted to do something, anything, but she was already gone"

"Any additional details that you recall?" he questioned, his eyebrows arching inquisitively in your direction.

"There was a..." In a feeble voice, you began to reply, only for it to falter and crack. You cleared your throat, attempting to regain your composure before speaking in a firmer tone, "There was a man." You sniffed, looking up at him with a frown tugging at the corners of your lips "He had his hood up, so I couldn't see his face. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a black hoodie, and he looked to be about 5'7," You strained to extract every possible detail, and he diligently recorded them in quick succession.

The only sound filling the crowded diner was the scratching of his pen against the paper, while the ambient chatter of the other patrons added a surreal yet comforting hum in the background. The scene felt utterly unreal, like some messed up vivid dream.

"Sir, there are no files from the security cameras' system. Whoever it was made sure to leave no traces," another officer interjected, halting the ongoing interrogation.

"Was anyone else there? besides you and well… Vanessa." He gazed at you with a furrowed brow, and you responded with a subtle shake of your head. Your lips formed a taut line as you revisited every fleeting moment preceding the end of your shift.

"I was about to finish my shift, and usually, no one shows up around that time. Before he arrived, there was a lady with a kid, but I don't think they saw each other." You explained, taking a moment to glance at your wife, hoping to find comfort in her eyes. A faint smile appeared on her face, accompanied by a small, supportive nod. She was there for you.

The officer hastily transcribed all the details, his pen scratching against the paper. "I'll give you a moment," he said, casting a furtive glance at Ellie before quietly exiting the room, making his departure alongside his steadfast colleague.

She stepped closer to you with a gentle grace, reaching out to lift your chin with the utmost care. Her touch was as light as a feather, almost as if she feared causing you any harm. "You're doing great, pretty. We're almost done, okay? Just hang on," She gazed down at you with a smile that could light up the darkest sky, her eyes filled with tenderness and warmth. Your gaze met hers, and in that moment, it felt like time stood still. Her delicate touch traced the contours of your face, evoking a sense of serenity that enveloped you. As you closed your eyes, a gentle sigh escaped your lips, and you leaned into her caress, feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders.

After a few moments, Jesse entered the crowded diner, his footsteps echoing softly on the floor. He exchanged a few words with the man who had been interrogating you the entire time. Ellie briefly glanced at him, and a faint smile graced her lips as they locked eyes, holding each other's gaze in that fleeting moment.

"So whatcha wanna do when we get back home?" she asked in an attempt to steer your thoughts away from the stress and chaos.

"I don't know... I wanna sleep," you pouted, your words soft and heavy with weariness. She looked down at you with tenderness, gently brushing a stray piece of hair out of the way and tucking it behind your ear.

"Tempting. But I was thinking of your favorite movie and pizza?" she suggested, her hopeful gaze meeting yours, her voice carrying a whisper of warmth.

You forced a half smile at her suggestion, your eyes still looking more tired than ever. "What about tacos? You know that Mexican place down the street?" You recalled the Mexican restaurant that recently opened down the street. For about two weeks, you had been telling her you wanted to try it, yet you still hadn't gotten the chance to.

She brushed your hair with her fingers, each gentle stroke feeling like a soft caress. A gentle smile formed on her lips, making the apples of her cheeks more pronounced. "Good idea, babe," she praised, her voice as soothing as a summer breeze, as tender as her touch, and you couldn't help but smile back at her, feeling the warmth of her affection enveloping you like a soft blanket.

After what seemed like an eternity, they finally let you go, and Ellie refused to leave your side for even a moment. Jesse drove you both home in solemn silence, punctuated only by the occasional light banter between him and Ellie. The weight of the impending visit to the police station loomed over you, and you couldn't fathom the reason behind the barrage of questions that awaited you. Perhaps it was due to the absence of eyewitnesses, but you were ready to cooperate nonetheless. That night, she held you gently, wrapping you in a comforting hug until you fell asleep.

The Police Station – September 12th, 2018.

The very next day, your wife stood by your side as you both headed to the police station. Her hand gently rested on your thigh throughout the entire ride, silently expressing her unwavering love and support. The warm sunbeams that usually provided comfort through the car windows didn't have the same effect on your nerves. Your stomach felt heavy, as if a knot had formed within you. Anxiety and restlessness consumed you. Her green emerald eyes frequently flickered towards you as she attempted to soothe your nerves with soft whispers, promising to stay by your side the entire time.

"It's going to be okay, honey." Her lips, delicate as rose petals, gently pressed against your forehead. She reluctantly let you go, watching you disappear into the interrogation room. Her colleagues' words echoed in the air, emphasizing the need for her to stay out so she would not interfere in any way.

"How did you sleep y/n?" the detective in front of you asked, turning on the recorder player before reaching for a pencil and starting scribbling on her papers.

"Awful," you exhaled, the weight of the word hanging heavy in the air. Your index finger delicately traced the arch of your brow as you gazed downwards, lost in a moment of profound contemplation.

"It must've been a traumatizing experience for you."

You nodded barely, your tired eyes meeting hers, "It was." Your face was less radiant than usual. The detective had seen you countless times before in this exact station, searching for your wife to deliver her something. Sometimes, it was a carefully prepared meal, other times, it was a bouquet of her favorite flowers or simply a thoughtful gift. And then there were the times you were there just to check up on her, your unexpected visits filled with love and concern.

"Let's attempt to retrace your steps together. Shall we?"

"Okay"

"Let's start from the beginning," she said, giving you the chance to speak at your own pace, without any pressure, so that you could fully elaborate on your memories and feelings.

////////////////////

The Diner – Early Night – September 11th, 2018.

You let out a heavy sigh, feeling utterly exhausted from the long hours of the shift. You had barely slept the day before, managing a measly 3 hours of restless sleep that did little to ease the heavy weariness on your tired shoulders. Every inch of you ached for the comforting embrace of your bed, and your eyes longed to shut for just a moment.

As you wiped the counter clean, you glanced towards the door that seemed to swing open all too rarely during this late hour. The clock ticked closer to 4:04 am, and you knew it was unusual for people to come around this time of night. Just a few customers here and there was all you could expect, and you preferred it that way.

The background noise of chatter in the late-night diner was enough to lull you to sleep, but you kept going on autopilot, moving to the sink to wash the few dishes that awaited you. Another heavy sigh escaped your lips as you thought about the hours that separated you from your pillow's comfort—the night seemed to stretch on infinitely.

"Ready to run back home to get laid?" the shorter girl teased you playfully, nudging you with her elbow as a small smile played on her red lips. She noticed the exhaustion written on your face, the fatigue in your heavy eyelids, and the dark circles under your eyes. You let out a dry chuckle, trying to hide the exhaustion that had settled deep within you.

"Just wanna go to bed," you responded with a weak but playful smile

"Right. go to bed with your hot wife—wonder what y'all freaks will do." Vanessa continued to playfully tease you, her liking for your wife a little too evident in her words. Ever since Ellie stepped into this diner for the first time, the brunette set her eyes on her. However, Ellie had always made the fact that she wasn't interested obvious. Your friend was pretty unlucky in this sort of thing; the best she would get was a phone number scribbled on a piece of paper by a middle-aged, beer-bellied man, who was likely just looking for a quick hook-up. And despite her initial attempts to draw Ellie's attention, Vanessa could sense that her interest was unreciprocated, leaving her feelings unreturned for the time being.

You couldn't help but let out a small giggle at Vanessa's words, and you nudged her lightly with your hip as a playful gesture. She moved closer, taking over the task of drying the dishes you had just washed, her hands methodically working alongside yours to complete the chore "Oh, handcuff me, Ellie, I've been such a bad, bad girl." She imitated you in a high-pitched voice that was nothing like yours, and you responded with a dramatic gasp, feigning shock and surprise at her teasing. The exaggerated reaction only seemed to amuse her more, and she broke into a wide grin, her laughter echoing through the diner.

"Oh my god, shut up!"

She burst into a fit of laughter, her amusement so intense that it drew the attention of the few remaining customers in the retro-looking diner. Some of them shot her strange looks, narrowing their eyes disapprovingly at the disturbance, while others simply ignored her and continued with their conversations.

"I swear, you shouldn't even be allowed here. You're embarrassing.” You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her, secretly appreciating her exuberant spirit. Her laughter died down; her blue eyes shifted toward the table where an older woman and her child had just finished their meal. The brunette approached the table, wiping it clean and pocketing the generous tip the woman had left her. She shot a wide smile her way, thanking her before returning to your side behind the counters.

"Hey, not fair," you complained, turning off the faucet with a huff and drying your hands on a cloth before facing her. "Let's split."

She grinned at you unapologetically, "Sorry, finders keepers." You sighed, turning towards her with one hand on your hip, with a playful disappointment on your face.

"Whatever—my shift is almost over anyways. Guess who's gonna be stuck here for a while longer? Hah! Not me." The lighthearted taunts cut short as a man suddenly entered the diner, his dark clothes and raised hood casting an eerie shadow over his features. You exchanged a glance with your coworker, silently agreeing that the stranger's appearance was suspicious, but decided to brush it off.

"Liz is gonna be here in a bit. Want me to wait here with you until she arrives?" you offered thoughtfully, your fingers skillfully untying the frilly white fabric that had been wrapped around your waist throughout the entire shift. Your eyes darted discreetly towards the man sitting at one of the tables, completely engrossed by his phone as he typed feverishly, his fingers dancing across the screen. The dim lighting of the diner cast shadows on his face, making it difficult to discern his expressions or intent.

“Naaah, I'll be fine.” she gave you a reassuring smile, and you nodded in acknowledgment, murmuring a quick "alright" before disappearing into the back room. The sound of the door creaking echoed softly in your ears as you entered the staff area, immediately shedding your frilly apron and gathering your personal belongings.

When you exited the small room, you saw Vanessa pouring steaming coffee into the mysterious man's cup. Navigating your way towards the exit, your shoulder bumped against hers, and she whispered playfully, “Eminem wannabe,” and you couldn't help but chuckle.

You had barely made it halfway down the road when the sickening realization hit you like a brick—you had left your keys at the diner. Ellie wouldn't be home anytime soon, so there was no way you could get in. You cursed under your breath before reluctantly turning your car around, determined to retrieve your keys. But when you returned to the diner, the scene that greeted you was surreal and terrifying. Vanessa's lifeless body lay on the floor, a gruesome tableau of violence that seemed to defy imagination, and there was no trace of the Eminem look-alike she had jested about only moments ago.

With a sense of dread and disbelief, you cautiously approached her body, the pool of blood surrounding her seeming to glow a disturbingly bright shade of red in the low light of the back room. You succumbed to the weight of the situation, the strength leaving your body as you sank to your knees. After calling out her name and shaking her in vain, the cold reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. No pulse, no breathing, no nothing. The sticky, warm liquid of her blood staining your bare knees was a chilling reminder of the horror that had played out in the dark corners of the diner. The room was filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of your labored breathing as you sat there in shock and the broken sobs that escaped your wobbly lips, echoing in the now-empty diner. It was a moment that you would never forget, a nightmare that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“911, what's your emergency?”

////////////////////

The Police Station – September 12th, 2018.

Your face is stained with grief and regret. “I wish I waited with her, I had a gut feeling and-” You hiccupped, your voice choked with emotion, “I regret not listening to it.” The blonde woman before you nodded in understanding, her gaze filled with a mixture of empathy and professional detachment. After a moment, she reached out to turn off the recorder, the soft click cutting off the audio of your emotional confession.

The detective stood up, her words a mere formality in the face of your emotional turmoil. "That is it, y/n. Thank you for your cooperation." With a final nod, she turned and left the room, leaving you with your emotions and thoughts.

In a flash of movement, Ellie entered the room, her steps quick and purposeful as she slid in just as the detective stepped out. Her eyes softened as she took in your tear-stained face.

"Hey," she whispered softly, her words reaching your ears and bringing a brief moment of comfort. You mustered a weak "Hey" in response. The weight of the situation was heavy on your shoulders, and you felt a deep sense of vulnerability in her presence, the trauma of the past few hours still lingering in your mind.

“You did pretty good, ma.” She stood right behind you, her touch gentle and reassuring as she rubbed your shoulders. Her presence was strong and supportive, even though you couldn't bring yourself to meet her gaze. But she was there by your side as always, and it was the only guarantee you needed in that moment.

"Just wanna go home." You murmured, your voice barely audible, earning a nod from her; her silent response conveying her understanding of your unspoken need for comfort.

"I'll take you," she offered softly, her voice a gentle reassurance. You tried to protest, not wanting to add to her burden. She was working, after all, and the last thing you wanted was to keep your hot wife from fulfilling her responsibilities.

"No, it's fine," you said hurriedly. "You're working anyways." But Ellie's insistence was unwavering, her tone firm yet compassionate.

"It's fine, I promise," she assured you, her words leaving no room for argument. All she wanted to do was linger by your side and stay home with you, but duty called, and right after dropping you home, she returned to her workplace.

Police Station – September 15th, 2018.

The raven-haired man approached Ellie, his voice serious as he announced, "Things don't look too good, El." He quickly locked the door behind him before continuing to spill some private matters everyone had kept from her.

The atmosphere in the room turned tense as Jesse placed his hands on the edge of Ellie's desk and leaned closer to her. His serious expression left no doubt that he wasn't joking around. "Are you on ‘shrooms again?" she asked sarcastically, but when he didn't break into a smile, she set down her pen and looked up at him, her expression turning serious. "I'm gonna take that as a no," she said cautiously, her voice still laced with a hint of sarcasm.

Ellie's tentative words broke the silence again, "So? You gonna tell me what's up, or you just gonna stand there and look stupid?" But her playful remark was again met with the man's serious and troubled expression. He shook his head slowly, sighing as if he was carefully considering the right words to use. He leaned closer to her, his voice now a low, hushed tone.

"They think your girl has something to do with it." The seriousness in his voice left no doubt that it was a situation that could not be taken lightly.

Ellie's defensive and aggravated tone filled the room as she stood up from her worn-out office chair, abruptly raising her voice. "What?! That's fuckin’ absurd!" she snapped, "They can't accuse her of that—she didn't do it!" Jesse raised his hand to beckon her to keep it quiet, his expression serious as he tried to keep the conversation from escalating.

"Listen, don't let them know that you know,” he explained, his voice hushed. "They weren't going to tell you because they think you'll get involved and mess up the investigation.”

The freckled girl's face contorted with a mix of disbelief, anger, and fear as her friend described the situation to her. Her fists clenched as she took in the news, her mind racing with a hundred thoughts at once.

"What do the police think they have on her?" she interrogated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jesse sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to figure out how to answer her question. "Nothing. They said they won't say anything until they find evidence.” The more she pondered the situation, the faster her heart raced, and her palms grew damp with perspiration. It almost felt like a betrayal of trust. These were people who had known you for years, yet they didn't hesitate to place you at the top of their list of suspects despite lacking any evidence.

Ellie's agitation was palpable as she paced back and forth, "So what if they don't find anything, hm?" she demanded, her frustration clear in her voice. "That's complete bullshit, Jesse—My wife… Why would they even think that?" Her voice was low and harsh, filled with a mix of outrage and defensiveness, Jesse visibly tensed at the harshness of her tone. “Just because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time? Well, guess what! It's nothing she can control. She simply happens to work at the diner, for fuck’s sake!" Her outburst reverberated off the walls of the small office, the frustration and anger practically tangible in the air as she forcefully slammed her hand down on the polished wooden desk.

Jesse gently but firmly placed his hands on Ellie's shoulders, his gaze locking with hers "Keep it quiet, dude. You tryna get both of us in trouble? I wasn't even supposed to tell you, but I thought you deserved to know," He hushed her, slightly shaking her to emphasize his point. He understood the sensitive nature of the situation, after all, they were not talking about any other girl. They were talking about Ellie's wife. Jesse's years as a police officer had taught him that stress management was key to handling these situations effectively, something Ellie seemed to lack sometimes.

Her green emeralds bored into his as she shook her head slowly, attempting to regain her composure. "Sorry," she sighed.

"Listen, there's nothing to worry about unless they find evidence." He reassured her in a soothing tone, releasing her shoulders.

"Well, I can assure you they won't find anything." She stated confidently, her tone still stern as her brows furrowed, and he nodded.

"I know. I know she has nothing to do with it." He truly couldn't wrap his head around it. How could they ever think someone like you had something to do with it? You were probably one of the kindest people he knew.

St. John's Health | Hospital – September 27th, 2018.

Eventually, the investigators turned their attention away from you, their focus shifting to the mysterious man you had described as the killer. There was no evidence whatsoever linking you to the brutal murder of Vanessa; why would you even harm someone you considered a friend? The text messages between you and your coworker revealed a purely friendly relationship, and there was no apparent motive for the crime. With no evidence to incriminate you, they dropped all suspects within three days. They all witnessed your evident grief when you discovered your friend’s lifeless body, shock and devastation overwhelming you, making them feel… off-track.

You stopped going to work, and even if you had the choice, there was no use; the diner remained shut, never to be reopened after the tragic accident, and the entire town of once quiet and peaceful community seemed unsettled and frightened by the series of murders that followed the diner accident. The once lively eatery now lay abandoned, a somber reminder of the tragedy that had befallen the town.

They had been trying everything, but the police found themselves chasing shadows. The one consistent detail from witnesses was the description of a man wearing a hood that covered his face, yet no one managed to catch a glimpse of his identity. So the authorities tried diligently interrogating individuals with a history of violence or abusive behavior, but each suspect appeared innocent, their alibis providing a strong defense, and none of them really fit the description.

Residents began locking themselves in at night, their evenings filled with unease and terror. Pretty soon, the killer and his murders became the main topic of conversation everywhere. It seemed like everyone was completely shaken up and fixated on the news surrounding the mysterious figure. Even the media jumped on the bandwagon, naming him the 'Shadow Killer,' a name that perfectly captured the eerie and unsettling nature of his attacks.

The baby's shrill cries and soft coos filled the hospital room as Jesse turned off the TV, muttering, "This shit’s crazy" under his breath. Ellie nodded in agreement, her gaze momentarily lingering on the news report before returning her focus to you, holding Dina's bundle of joy with love and care. The thought of having kids had never really crossed her mind, but something about seeing you with the baby, making silly faces to coax laughter out of him while rocking him gently, filled her with a desire to try and another type of desire.

She felt like building a family with you would complete her, despite having said that she considered you her everything and that she needed nothing else. While it was partially true, seeing your maternal instincts kicking in made her feel like everything clicked, like that was the final piece to your marriage and relationship—one she didn’t even know was missing.

A warm smile graced Ellie's face as she observed you interacting with JJ, gushing over the baby boy with a soft voice, claiming he was the most adorable thing you've ever set your eyes on.

“He's perfect, Dee,” you stated for the millionth time.

The brunette chuckled in response, jokingly telling you, “He's all yours.”

Jesse chimed in with a jest, bumping the shorter girl's shoulder “You're next,” earning a puzzled look from her. He cleared his throat and clarified, “First–they’re holding someone’s kid and next thing you know, they're asking for one.” Raising her scarred brows, Ellie scoffed at the teasing comment, but when her crystalline emeralds returned to you, she realized he wasn’t wrong. The sparkle in your eyes as you held the baby, a look that spoke volumes to your wife, who had known you for years. She could see the unmistakable signs of love and adoration on your face and she knew that sooner or later, you were going to bring it up.

She approached you, her heart melting under the warmth of your soft smile, peering over your shoulder to look at the pretty boy in your arms, “El, look at him,” you whispered, gently cradling JJ in your arms.

“He's got Jesse's eyes,” she remarked, studying the little one's features.

Jesse couldn't help but burst into laughter, correcting her playfully, “He looks Asian, you mean.” eliciting a burst of laughter from Ellie.

“Totally what I meant.” she retorted sarcastically.

"Dunno, looks like the baby from the Ice Age movie t'me"

Your Apartment – October 2nd, 2018.

Ever since that “fateful” night at the hospital, you became the only thought that occupied her mind. Sure, she was your wife, and it was supposed to be that way, but there was one specific thought that consumed every cell of her brain. You, pregnant. Pregnant with her baby, your tummy swelling with the precious life growing inside you and your skin radiating a warm, ethereal glow. It was something that played in her mind nonstop, especially during sex. Especially when she was rutting against your pussy.

The thought of your juices mingling together, the thought of filling you up with her essence, was something that didn't seem to want to leave her mind anytime soon. And she couldn't seem to keep her hands off of you, always finding excuses to touch you, caress you, grope you, or even grind against the push of your butt when you were most distracted with chores.

You noticed something inside her had shifted, and on the other hand, she felt like a middle schooler all over again, sex occupying her mind all night, all day like a horny teenager in their puberty. Almost as if she felt the need to claim you and make you entirely hers in every possible way. But you didn't mind. No, of course, you didn't. How could you when she was fucking you so good and hard? How could you mind it when she pounded into you until the early hours of the morning?

"So good with kids...so, so good," velvety murmurs caressed your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of intimate kisses along the length of your neck. You tilted your head, granting her even greater access to explore you. Her fiery, vibrant locks, reminiscent of autumn leaves, intertwined effortlessly with your fingers as you gently pulled her closer.

"Hmmm." A soft, muffled sound escaped your lips in response "Does that turn you on?" Your voice dropped to a hushed whisper, accompanied by a dreamy giggle that found its way to her ears, prompting a smile to grace her lips against your skin.

"Does that turn me on?" She echoed your words with a sultry tone; her voice saturated with desire as she intentionally ground against your thigh. Your hands swiftly drew her nearer, firmly grasping her by the waist, the tips of your fingers danced suggestively along the hem of her Calvin Klein boxers.

"I'll take that as a yes." A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you gently led her to grind against you once more, eliciting a gasp from her as your fingertips tightened on her buttocks. A delicate sigh fell from her lips, caressing you like a gentle breeze, her parched lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a tantalizing shiver down your spine.

"You'd be such a good mama" the words seemed to slip out of her mouth without conscious thought, tangled up in the web of her own fantasies that had been tormenting her for quite some time.

"You really think so?" Your voice was as silky as cotton, a stark contrast to the firm yet gentle grip of your hands on her hips as you guided her increasingly urgent motions against your thighs. Soft, languid moans poured against your neck, planting a trail of heated kisses along the length of your neck, her mouth working with a voracious appetite as she suckled on your sensitive skin like a starving bloodsucker, marking you. A low, sultry hum was all you received from her in response. Your nude skin pressed against her, her clad breasts grazing yours, her hardened nipples stimulating yours through the thin fabric of her black bralette.

"You should put a baby in me."

The words seemed to halt her in her tracks. She leaned back slightly, studying your expression intently, her gaze locking with yours. A playful twinkle danced in her eyes, and a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Amusement and surprise mixed in her freckled-dusted features. "Strip." with a soft but unyieldingly firm tone, her features utterly devoid of emotion except for the subtle arch of her brows, making you break into a fit of giggles.

"Oh? just like that?"

With fervent anticipation, you stripped off the remaining garments still clinging to your body, your eyes intensely fixated on the sight before you. The vision of her adorned in the black strap, one of the numerous items you and your wife possessed, never failed to make your pussy clench, leaving your stomach in knots. Such a luscious spectacle. And you were the lucky girl who got to witness all this. Your body sank into the plush embrace of the mattress as you watched her gracefully position herself between your legs, straddling them. With a tender squeeze of your knee, her other hand gently pressed the tip of the silicone toy against your sensitive nub, sending an electric jolt of pressure through you. The unexpected sensation, even in its softness, coaxed a squirming response from you, your hips instinctively trying to pull away.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmured, the tip of her cock rubbing through your folds, her slender fingers coating and preparing her silicone dick with your slickness. She groaned softly, lost in the alluring haze of her own touch, almost as if the toy were an extension of herself “It’s so pathetic how much of a slut you are for me.” Her actions prompted a whimper to escape your lips.

“Fuck you, stop teasing,” you retorted, tinged with a mix of annoyance and desperation, betraying the aching desire that consumed you. The sight of your drenched and soaked pussy made Ellie almost salivate, feeling eager to destroy it and make a mess of you. She loved knowing that even after years of being together your desire for her was burning as fierce as ever. You had never once failed to make her feel wanted, and how could you when she was simply this fine?

A dry, mirthless chuckle slipped out from between her lips as a self-satisfied smirk adorned her features. The soft moonlight delicately highlighted her cheekbones, enhancing her already stunning appearance and making her seem as if she were personally blessed by the moon herself “What, can’t handle a little teasing?” she responded with a playful taunt, she felt her own arousal growing, the back of her strap dampened with her own slickness, feeling a desperate need of friction.

“This is not teasing, you’re just being a little bitch” you pouted, your body arching eagerly as your pussy sought the sensation of her cock stretching you so amazingly. As she abruptly thrust forward, a high-pitched squeal was wrenched from your lips, and your breath caught in your throat. Her expression was a mask of amusement, witnessing your visceral reaction to her every touch, a reminder of the power she held over you.

“What were you saying? Didn't quite catch the last part,” With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she taunted you, her hands gently claiming your hips as she leaned down, her gaze taking in every angle of your contorted face.

“I said-” You attempted to speak once more, but another plunging thrust stole the breath from your lungs, leaving you speechless.

“Yeah, said what?”

“Hmmpphh.” You could feel her going deeper into you, your eyes shut close and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, arching into her, she looked down at you with half-lidded eyes, licking her lips before pressing damp kisses on your jawline and your throat, savoring all the pretty moans and whimpers you gave her.

"So pretty," she murmured, a note of possessiveness lacing her words, "And mine. All mine." She captured your lips in a passionate and messy kiss, her tongue tangling with yours as she continued to slide in and out of you, each movement causing you to moan into the kiss, and she gladly swallowed each one of them. You had taken such meticulous care of her, preparing her meals, doing the laundry, and handling the household chores with diligence that she just felt the need to reciprocate and fuck you as you deserved.

Such a good fucking housewife, she couldn't ask for better.

“Babe, fuuuck,” You cried out, your brows drawing together as her pace intensified. Your breath caught in your throat, and your body writhed in response.

“Want me to get you pregnant you said, yeah?” With a strained, breathy voice, she whispered, each movement meticulously targeted to hit the exact spot inside you that made sparks fly behind your eyelids and your toes curl. You nodded eagerly, a chorus of whimpers and whines escaping your lips “Then you’ll have to take my cock as deep as you can–want you to feel it all the way up in your womb.” she grunted, pushing the strap in as deep as it could go, feeling your walls clench around it. “But you’ll be a good girl and take it, won’t you?” she purred, her lips leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your collarbone and down the valley between your breasts. Unable to form a coherent sentence, all you could manage was an enthusiastic nod in response, which was clearly not enough for her. A slap was delivered to the sensitive flesh of your thigh, causing you to squeak in surprise “Words, mama.” She demanded, completely captivated by your heavenly expressions and the bouncing of your tits.

“Y-yes… ’ll be good,” you babbled out incoherently; the sinful sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room. Each movement, each touch perfectly calculated, your body writhing with each thrust.

“Mmm, fucking love how you take it.” She whispered, her breath coming in shallow huffs as her tongue and teeth worked their magic on one of your sensitive nubs, drawing out strained whimpers from you. Your fingers coiled in her hair, craving the closeness and seeking an anchor in the sea of pleasure that swelled between your legs. Your cunt wrapped around her so perfectly, and she had your legs shaking like crazy—that’s how she knew you were close.

“Gonna fill you up so good, baby.” whispering filthy promises into your ear, leaning back and burying all her length inside your womb, the tip of her fake cock rubbing your g-spot deliciously, making your eyes roll in the back of your head as she ground against the base of the strap, desperately chasing her own pleasure.

“Need your babies, pleaseplease…cum inside me,” you whined, the words catching in your throat as you gasped for breath, wrapping your legs around her waist with an urgent need to keep her close, both of your throbbing clits grinding against the base of her strap.

“Fuckfuck..’m coming.” Ellie’s grunts grew louder, a guttural melody that echoed in your ears. Her head arched back, the muscles in her body trembling and tensing as she slammed her dick inside you, urging you to cum with her

“Ellie, fuuuck.” Your body rocked wildly against hers, the movement becoming erratic as the heel of your foot pressed firmly into her glutes, trapping her between your soft thighs as waves of pleasure coursed through you. Sweet and breathy mewls escaped your swollen lips, your back arching into her almost painfully.

Dr. Diaz was right after all, you just needed to try new things with your wife, explore your fantasies with her.

Typically, she made you feel so good, and you gladly reciprocated the pleasure she gave you, but tonight, the tables had turned. She was solely fixated on making you feel loved and worshiped, determined to pull a fifth orgasm from your worn-out body. Your legs shook uncontrollably, and your core ached from the relentless onslaught of overstimulation, and she showed no signs of slowing down or stopping anytime soon. Your arms were pinned firmly behind your back, the cold, hard steel of the handcuffs digging into the delicate skin of your wrists with a biting force. You twitched and writhed involuntarily, the restrictive hold making you feel helpless and vulnerable; it was driving you insane. It was Ellie's idea, and you cursed yourself for agreeing to try something new.

“Babe, please…let me touch you.” A pathetic whine escaped your lips, quickly followed by a guttural whimper as her calloused hands skillfully controlled your every move. You were growing more desperate each second, yearning to play with those perky tits just lying there, right beneath you. They looked so lonely and neglected, it was such a shame. Rough palms find purchase on the softness of your hips, adjusting and re-adjusting your position to her liking. You struggled vainly against the cuffs, trying to squirm free, but the tight binds held strong, leaving you utterly at her mercy. You couldn’t move, and if you could, you know she wouldn’t let you. You were hers, hers to fuck and destroy like a doll.

A mischievous grin spread across her features, a mixture of pride and amusement, knowing she was the cause of your current state, leaving you deliciously wrecked, her darkened eyes fixed on the milky white ring encircling the base of the black strap, your wetness coating her. “Thought you said you wanted me to fuck a baby into you?” Her voice was husky and strained, the words escaping her lips in a gravelly purr that seemed to vibrate through your very core, your walls squeezing her cock almost to trap her inside.

“I do,” you choked out. “Ellie, please,” you were so fucking desperate. Ridiculously desperate to play with her nipples, touch her, perhaps wrap your hand around her neck, something that she seemed to enjoy, but what she was enjoying the most was the helpless expressions on your face as you looked down at her, pouting. You were always needy and she could easily put you in your place, but this needy? She was sure she had never seen you this desperate. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t touch her, and she was forcing you to ride her because you needed to earn ‘it.’ You needed to earn her babies, needed to earn her cum inside you. In all honesty, it was just a fucking excuse, and who could blame her? the sight of you riding her strap like a fucking pornstar with your hands handcuffed behind your back was everything, it was all she needed.

“C’mon ma, ride me like you always do. Don’t you want me to fill that pretty pussy of yours, hm?” As your hips started to move, taking her in inch by inch, a dry chuckle escaped her throat, her gaze flicking up to meet your pretty tits as they bounced in her face “Just like that…good giiirl,” the praise dripping with saccharine sweetness mingling with the slick, wet sounds of your pussy, the echoes of your moans and breathless gasps filling the room like a lewd harmony. “Needa work for it, princess,” Ellie says, her hands leaving your hips and finding a new home on your boobs; her thumbs danced across your hardened nubs, teasing and flicking them with a ruthless skill that caused you to writhe and squirm in her hands.

“Please, p-please,” you managed to croak out, begging and pleading for her to fill you up with her babies as if she could. You gasped and whined when the black tip of her strap kissed your cervix, going deeper into your womb.

“Take every inch of it, baby,” her words flowed like liquid heat against the delicate shell of your ear as you collapsed into her embrace, completely consumed by her slow yet harsh thrusts, your eyes fluttering shut in blissful surrender.

“Ahhhh-” you gasped helplessly.

“Gonna be such a perfect mama,” She growled, her palms eagerly squeezing your ass before delivering a sharp smack that drew a startled yelp from you.

“Cum inside me,” you quaked into the crook of her shoulder, warm puffs of your breath caressing her freckled skin.

“You dirty little slut, you like that, don’t you?” She let out a husky chuckle, her hand delivering another sharp spank before her firm grip found purchase on your hips, running up and down your soft skin as she guided your movements.

“Mmmhhmmm” you adjusted your position and began to slowly bounce on her cock, ensuring her clit rubbed against the base of the toy, your movements deliberately aimed at eliciting a response from her. Your gaze locked onto the contours of her stomach, entranced by the way each muscle contracted with each painful roll of your hips, causing her breath to hitch in her throat, her chest rising and falling in sharp pants. The soft freckles scattered across her cheeks standing out vividly against the rosy hue, sweat trickled down her scarred brow, mingling with strands of baby hair that clung to her damp skin.

“Look at your fucking—god… your fucking cunt, taking every inch of…hmmm… me” And oh, how absolutely mesmerizing she was when she was right where you wanted her. The epitome of perfection, a fantasy that surely haunted the dreams of many.

“Please, El… wanna cum with you.” You couldn't help the plaintive and slutty whine that slipped past your lips, her breath stuttered and grew ragged, and her hands, firm and sure, set a rhythm on your hips, expertly guiding you with a purpose. Her own slickness soaked the pastel blue cotton sheets beneath her. Your hazy, half-lidded eyes met hers, “Close?” Your voice came out weak and breathless as you looked down at her, your pace quickening as you ground against her desperately. She nodded frenetically; you could feel your climax approaching like a crashing wave, and you desperately bit down on your bottom lip to muffle the whimpers that threatened to escape, knowing it wouldn't be much longer before you came again.

She steadied you with each languid roll of your hips, selfishly using you to get off. Each motion a perfect counterpoint to her own, and you could feel sweat dripping down your bare back.

"Hmmm...I love when you're inside me"

That was all it took. In a single fluid motion, she pulled you closer, sealing her lips against yours in a kiss that was more desperate and unhinged than any before it, coming simultaneously and swallowing every sweet sound you gave her.

Finally, as you came back down to Earth, you collapsed onto her, your handcuffed hands still immobile behind your back.

"It’s okay, pretty, I gotchu," she says, her voice raw and raspy from the intensity of her orgasm. She reached for the keys to the cuffs on the bedside table. You slowly sat up, the toy still nestling comfortably inside you, and she released your wrists from their tight embrace, allowing you to massage the sensitive, bruised skin with a tender touch. With a weary but satisfied sigh, you slowly extricate yourself from her, leaving behind a trail of your essence covering her whole length. You collapsed onto the soft sheets beside her, and she swiftly discarded the strap somewhere on the floor. You snuggled closer to her, your body molding against hers as you kissed her cheek tenderly. Her lips curled upwards in a contented smile, and she gently pulled you on top of her, holding you close in her strong embrace.

“Did so good, princess. I love you.” She placed a gentle kiss on the crown of your head, her heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears as you lay snuggled against her bare chest.

“I love you more,” you echoed back softly.

"Don't forget to leave a 5 star review on the app for the ride-" you couldn't help but erupt into a fit of laughter, your body shaking softly as you gazed up at her.

"God, you're so embarrassing." You gave her arm a playful slap, a grin still spread across your face as you both laughed together.

"Yet you're still riding my cock." Her eyebrows arched upwards, a cocky smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Only because I have to." You rolled your eyes at her

"It’s not like you're being held at gunpoint—fuck me or I'll shoot you. Pew pew," she aimed and fired at imaginary enemies with her fingers.

"I'm dating a fucking kid." You let out a dramatic sigh, feigning disappointment but unable to keep a smile from forming on your lips

“And that makes you a what?” She retorted sarcastically, arching a single brow at you with a smug expression on her face.

“Okay” you replied with a deadpan, “I think it’s your bedtime,” you added in a fake serious tone, making her giggle.

“Nooo, I wanna snuggle,” she groaned in mock protest, her lips pouting as she pulled you closer.

The two of you embraced each other, intertwining your limbs as you whispered sweet nothings to one another. The soft hum of the TV filled the air around you, and the cool night air from the open window sent chills down your spine. Both of you gently lulled into a peaceful slumber.

"This is a news flash update! We have received news of yet another fatal stabbing, this time in a local motel. A 25-year-old woman was found dead in her room, brutally stabbed to death. This is the third murder reported in the last month, causing a great deal of panic and concern amongst the town's inhabitants. Police investigations are currently underway, and residents are advised to take caution and keep their doors and windows locked at all times. Now over to our reporter on the scene for further details."

Your Apartment – October 19th, 2018.

Holding Dina's baby for the first time in the hospital was an experience that felt more like signing a contract with an invisible ink pen. You hadn't realized it then, but the moment your arms cradled JJ's tiny, warm body, you became an integral part of his life and his babysitter whenever the couple was too busy or needed some peace. The trust Dina placed in you was immediate and profound, and you were the first person she called when she needed someone reliable to watch over her precious baby potato.

And how could you ever say no? JJ was an angel wrapped in soft blankets, with eyes that sparkled with curiosity and a giggle that could melt even the hardest of hearts made of stone. Sure, he had his moments of frustration, his small fists clenching in tantrums every now and then, but those were fleeting storms in an otherwise sunny disposition. Most of the time, JJ was a remarkably well-behaved child, a rarity in the world of toddlers.

His tiny hands would reach out for you, his laughter echoing like a sweet melody in the air, filling your apartment. The way he looked at you with pure, unfiltered trust made every impromptu babysitting session feel less like an obligation and more like a cherished opportunity, something you truly enjoyed. And in all honesty, after the diner you worked at was shut, looking after JJ was something that kept you busy and distracted. And a distraction is always nice.

"I'll come pick him up at… is 11 too late?" Jesse asked tentatively, gently rocking his son in his arms. He looked down at JJ, shooting a few silly grins that made the baby gurgle with delight.

You shook your head profusely, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "Absolutely not. You know I'm a night owl," you reminded him with a gentle smile. Your eyes softened as you extended your arms, ready to cradle the potato-shaped boy.

Jesse handed JJ over, his small weight settling comfortably against you. You could feel the warmth of his tiny body through his onesie, the baby-soft skin of his tiny hand brushing against your cheek as you adjusted him in your arms. His dad's shoulders relaxed, knowing his son was in safe hands. "Thanks, you're a lifesaver," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. You simply smiled, looking down at JJ, who was now cooing contentedly, his little hand grasping your finger with surprising strength.

"Anytime," you replied softly, feeling a swell of affection for the tiny being in your arms. His chubby cheeks and his cute tiny hands were the most adorable things in the world. Who was gonna tell Ellie that you wanted a kid now?

“Dina really needs to rest, and I can’t be there to help because of work.” You nodded, feeling bad for the brunette, knowing she was home alone with her son most of the time.

"Tell Dina I said hi," you added as Jesse adjusted his uniform jacket.

"Will do—Ellie's gonna get off her shift at 3 AM," he informed you, his voice tinged with fatigue but still warm, the bags under his eyes said it all; becoming a parent surely wasn’t a walk in the park.

You nodded at his words, then suddenly remembered something. "Oh wait—I almost forgot!" Your eyes widened as you turned your back, hurrying to retrieve a small bag from the kitchen. You returned to the front door, holding the bag out to Jesse, who was now leaning casually against the door frame.

"Oh! What would she do without you?" he exclaimed in a teasing manner, deep down finding the gesture sweet and thoughtful. It was endearing how you always looked after your wife, preparing her meals while she worked tirelessly at the police station, ensuring she wouldn't skip the most important part of the day and that she was well-nourished.

You chuckled at his words. "What would you do without me, actually," you corrected him with a playful smile. "Two chicken sandwiches, one for you, one for her, no tomatoes for you. There's some apples and a few chocolate bars, too,"

Jesse swiftly grabbed the paper bag from your hand and peeked inside. "You're amazing," he said with a grin on his face. "Hope JJ won't be too much trouble," he added, his chocolate eyes shifting to his son in your arms.

"I'll be fine—be careful, alright?" you warned him, your tone turning slightly serious.

He nodded, appreciating your concern. "Always am. See you at 11," he said, turning around to walk away from your doorstep, the bag of food swinging gently at his side.

You spent the whole evening with JJ, you dedicated your time to caring for the baby boy. You carefully prepared his meal and then proceeded to give him a relaxing bubble bath, hoping the latter would make him somewhat sleepy and ready to go to bed. Little plastic ducks floating on the surface add a whimsy touch to the whole scene. Suddenly, your phone rang, breaking the peaceful atmosphere. With JJ cradled in the bathtub, you quickly reached for your phone, ensuring your free hand was dry after patting it with the folded towel placed conveniently within your reach.

“El?”

“Hi baby,” her warm and affectionate voice flowed through the speaker; you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and joy.

A soft smile graced your lips, “Hey gorgeous,” your voice was filled with a playful tone, and the sound of Mr. Potato giggling could be heard in the background.

Her voice was husky as she asked, “How’s it going?”

“Oh, y’know, just giving stinky-boy a bath.” The endearing nickname that escaped your lips elicited an uncontrollable, joyous laughter from the pretty boy. Despite being just a baby, his insatiable curiosity and discerning intelligence were truly impressive, definitely something he hadn’t inherited from his dad. The infectious giggle emanating from the baby brought a warm chuckle from auburnette. “How’s it going for you?” you took the chance to ask back.

“Jus’ stuck with paperwork while Jesse gets all the fun tasks.” Her dry lips parted slightly, releasing a barely audible, airy exhale. “Sucks you’re not here with me,” she added

“Sounds pretty homophobic if you ask me,” You quipped with a charming grin, though she couldn't see it. “Should be sitting on your lap right now.” Ellie let out a low sigh, her breath hitching as your words sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. You knew it didn't take much to get her worked up, and perhaps it was the memories from last night that made her even more susceptible to your tease

“Yeah. I’ll be home in four hours.” A soft huff escaped her lips, a subtle sign of her growing impatience and yearning for your touch

“I knowwww,” You drawled, switching your phone to speaker mode as you carefully lifted JJ out of the bath and wrapped him snugly in a warm, fluffy towel. Soft giggles and coos echoed through the room, “I’ll stay up for you,” you told her

“You must be tired, you should go to bed earl-”

“No,” you adamantly insisted, your tone unyielding “I miss you”

“Miss you too,” she responded swiftly, her tone matching yours

“See you soon?”

“Alright, mama, I'll see you soon.” she exhaled. “The sandwich was delicious, by the way,” Ellie adds, gratitude resonating in her words

A proud grin spread across your face as you replied cockily, “You’re welcome,” savoring the compliment on your cooking skills. She had always appreciated it immensely when you cooked for her, and she never wasted a chance to lavish compliments on your culinary skills. God, if she loved you more than anything.

“Love you.”

“Love you.” And with that, you ended the call.

You couldn't help but gaze adoringly at the little burrito in your arms, wrapped up in a beautiful pastel blue towel. The tranquil, content expression on his face spoke volumes of his relaxed state, a peaceful lull radiating from his tiny form. “Daddy’s gonna pick you up soon, let’s get dressed, yeah?” you cooed affectionately, tracing the bridge of his little nose with your index finger, inciting a gummy grin from the cutie as he batted his long lashes at you. You retrieved the bag Jesse had left at your place a few days ago, it was crammed with everything a baby might require and a few extra outfits for JJ. You changed him into a charming giraffe-patterned pjs and wrapped him cozily in a small blanket. Just as you finished, the doorbell rang, signaling Jesse's arrival.

“Howdy!” Jesse stood at your door, visibly exhausted. Wordlessly, you gestured for him to enter the disorganized apartment. His weary eyes immediately settled on the baby in your arms, noting how JJ's eyelids appeared heavy and threatened to flutter shut at any moment. The newborn had been keeping him and Dina up for nights on end, and on top of that, his demanding job had further drained his energy. The stress was evident in his drawn features, making it clear that the past few days had taken a toll on him.

“He was an angel,” you softly told him with a gentle smile.

“Oh really?” his voice held a hint of amusement as he raised his brows in disbelief, marveling at how your description of JJ as a 'complete angel' contradicted his own experience. He couldn't tell if his little one was behaving so well out of genuine good nature or if you were exaggerating the truth a bit cause he could sure be a little troublemaker with him and Dina. “Glad he wasn’t much of a fuss,” he chuckled tiredly.

“I already gave him a bath and all; he’s ready for bed,” you informed him, and he nodded in acknowledgment.

“Thank you, y/n. I owe you one.” A weary sigh escaped his lips. “Mind if I go to the toilet real quick?” he asked.

“No, sure. go ahead”

A subtle change in Jesse's demeanor was evident as he reappeared moments later. His eyes flickered away from yours, and a tense, forced smile adorned his face, giving the impression that something was troubling him.

“You good?” You questioned him, carefully placing the sleeping bean in his arms to avoid waking the little one. A hint of concern tinged your voice as you attempted to discern the reason behind his anxious demeanor. He was fine just a minute ago.

“Yeah, yeah. just tired, is all,” he responded evasively, leaving you to raise an eyebrow in skepticism, but you decided not to dwell on it.

He must be tired, you thought.

Jesse tenderly held his son, cradling him in his strong, protective arms “Thank you again for watching over him”

“I told you, it’s no bother, he’s such a cute kid,” You responded fondly, gently caressing the baby boy's soft, round cheek as he rested contentedly in his father's embrace.

“Alright, have a good night,” he gave you a faint smile

“You too, Jess.” You remained at the doorstep, leaning against it as you watched him leave, his silhouette gradually fading from sight.

When Jesse returned home, he cautiously unlocked the front door, cradling a sleeping JJ in his arm. As he entered, his gaze fell upon Dina, softly snoring on the couch, her mouth slightly parted in peaceful slumber. He watched her for a moment, a tender smile on his lips as he appreciated the sight. Closing the door gently so as not to wake her, he approached her, his footsteps silent on the floor. Seeing her there, asleep as she had waited for him, filled him with warmth and love.

“Honey, I’m home”

The Police station – October 27th, 2018.

Jesse rubbed his eyes with the rough palms of his hands, longing to be home with his family. He absorbed the animated discussions among his colleagues, who were fervently speculating about the identity of the elusive killer. With no substantial evidence to support their theories, their efforts felt akin to chasing a phantom. The killer had a remarkable ability to erase all traces, executing each action with meticulous precision.

“What if he's not left-handed and is good with both hands?” As one of the individuals engaged in the discussion took a contemplative sip of his steaming coffee, Jesse's gaze meandered over to the clock adorning the pristine white brick wall.

2:26 AM.

He should be home, in his bed.

He continued to endure the ceaseless barrage of hypothetical scenarios conjured up by his colleagues. Normally, they wouldn't have been included in such sensitive investigations, but they were frustrated and exhausted from pursuing an elusive individual who appeared to never make any mistakes. There had to be something, but no. No fucking slip-ups.

“The slit starts from right to left, meaning he slayed the first victim—Vanessa—using his left hand,” The woman in her forties leaned back in her swivel office chair, gesturing towards the raw pictures they had taken of the first victim as she explained the details to her coworker.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t add up—Giselle Caddel,” he countered by swiftly sifting through additional files and photographs to substantiate his theory. “See? Left to right.” he softly tapped his index finger on the images and the text printed on the pages that held every necessary information.

The woman let out a frustrated sigh and absentmindedly hummed to herself as she examined the pictures and the papers for the millionth time “Okay, maybe he is dominant with both hands,” she conceded, agreeing with his hypothesis. But again, it didn't make sense how the third victim had been brutalized, shot with an unknown weapon, leaving them with more questions than answers. The lack of registration for the gun only deepened the mystery, leaving them lost on how to proceed.

“Why do we assume we're going after a guy?” Jesse suddenly spoke up, drawing puzzled looks from all his colleagues, who had nearly forgotten he was even there. They gazed at him with a mixture of confusion and surprise, unsure if they had just heard something absurd or brilliant. He couldn't discern the thoughts racing through their minds. But he couldn't help but wonder… was it truly inconceivable for a woman to be capable of committing such a brutal act of violence?

“What are you implying?” dirty blonde brows arched inquisitively, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What if it’s a woman we should be looking for?” he elaborated

“A woman?” She responded with a mix of surprise and mock disbelief, her voice laced with a hint of humor. “Everyone claims they’ve seen a man at each crime scene before the murders occurred,”

“But they’ve never seen ‘his’ face, have they?” He replied with heavy sarcasm, making air quotes while emphasizing the word 'his.'

“Ma’am, we don’t have proof that it is a man,” another coworker pondered the situation and concurred with Jesse's theory.

“He’s too brutal, too raw, too strong. A woman can’t be that strong,” she stated, still skeptical. The detective's thoughts raced through possible motives for the brutal murders. It was difficult to fathom how the female perpetrator could commit such heinous crimes without any apparent remorse. Could there be a common connection between the victims, such as… a shared romantic history with the same individual? The officer's mind was filled with questions, struggling to understand the motivations behind the cold-hearted acts. she pondered, the sinister theory making her stomach turn uncomfortably.

“Adrenaline has that effect on everyone,” he stood his ground, refusing to back down from his idea. The room went silent as the towering blonde woman abruptly stood, drawing a deep breath of air into her lungs.

“You might be onto something,” she declared firmly, her voice carrying a hint of authority. Without further elaboration, she turned and strode out of the investigation room, leaving the officers to grapple with the weight of her words.

He leaned back, feeling the tension ease slightly as she disappeared from view. Perhaps, just perhaps, they were finally on the right track. But even then, uncertainty lingered in the air. They needed tangible evidence, something concrete to confirm their suspicions.

Jesse’s House – November 6th, 2018.

The chill of the night still lingered in the air as Jesse's eyes snapped open, his breath quickening as remnants of a brutal nightmare clung to his consciousness. A sense of disorientation washed over him, but he quickly gathered his bearings, the familiar sights of his surroundings grounding him back to reality.

He was home, he was safe. He mentally reassured himself

Turning his head ever so slightly, he beheld the tranquil scene before him. Dina lay peacefully beside him, her chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm, a serene expression adorning her sleeping face. JJ, nestled between them, let out a soft snore, blissfully unaware of the world around him, tiny hands curled into fists.

With utmost care, Jesse shifted, his movements slow and deliberate as he extracted himself from the warmth of the duvet. The soft material whispered against his skin, a comforting presence in the quiet of the night. As he sat up, a sense of protectiveness washed over him, a silent vow to safeguard the fragile tranquility of the moment. Every rustle of fabric, every creak of the bed frame was muffled by the hush of the night, a sacred stillness enveloping the room like a cocoon. Jesse's gaze lingered on the precious sight before him, the love he felt for his family swelling within his chest; he felt so grateful for them, he would've done anything for them.

He lovingly tucked his wife into bed, her arm instinctively reaching for him in her sleep, seeking the warmth of his presence as it slowly slipped away. Jesse quietly padded to the kitchen, the soft sound of his footsteps barely audible in the stillness of the night. Glancing at the clock, he noticed the time and let out an exhausted sigh, the back of his hand moving to wipe the beads of sweat from his forehead. Opening the cupboards, he reached for a glass, the cool touch of it bringing a sense of relief as he filled it with fresh water, his mouth feeling as dry as the Sahara desert.

It was only 4 AM.

He quickly downed the glass of water, the cool liquid quenching his thirst, before placing it on the granite countertop. This was his usual routine. He was fortunate if he managed to get four hours of sleep, but more often than not, it was only three before he would wake up, haunted by vivid nightmares of the killer, unable to fall back asleep.

As he strolled his way to the living room, he couldn’t help but notice the pillows strewn across the floor and JJ’s countless plush toys scattered in every corner. Dina had a habit of showering JJ with toys, much to Jesse’s bemusement. He didn't need all those toys; a few were sufficient, and most of them were left unused. There was one particular elephant plush that caught the baby boy's attention. He seemed to be incredibly attached to it, never leaving it alone, carrying it around everywhere, and if he ever misplaced it, he would throw a tantrum until Dina found it.

The living room bore silent witness to their daily chaos. JJ’s little kingdom, with plush animals ranging from lions to bears, was a vibrant display of color against the muted tones of the furniture. Jesse picked up a few toys, absentmindedly placing them back in their basket.

He sank into the worn, stained couch, feeling the dampness of the fabric from the water JJ had accidentally spilled earlier. The gentle, barely perceptible hum of the refrigerator filled the air, creating a soothing backdrop to the faint sounds of the city beginning to stir from its slumber. He leaned back, his thoughts drifting. Those were the moments when his mind just wouldn't stop buzzing with thoughts. The relentless pursuit of a cunning killer had started to weigh heavily on his mind, leaving him feeling utterly powerless.

He felt like he was letting everyone down–his family, Dina. It absolutely infuriated him that he couldn't do more to protect them. Especially now that JJ had arrived, his paternal instincts seemed to kick in and his desire to protect his family had intensified, amplifying the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He let his eyes drift aimlessly around the room until they settled on his laptop resting on the scarred coffee table. It was at that moment that a sudden realization popped into his mind.

The missing hard disk.

Jesse’s mind raced as he remembered that day, the rush of events blending together in a haze. He had been at your place and gone to the toilet when he spotted the hard disk tucked away on a shelf. Something about it had struck him as odd. It wasn’t just any brand; it was the exact match to the equipment used at the crime scene. His heart skipped a beat when he realized the potential importance of what he had stumbled upon. He was sure it was just a coincidence 'cause why would you have it? Why would you be possibly hiding it?

It didn't make sense.

He wasn’t proud of slipping it into his pocket, a pang of guilt gnawing at him for doubting you even for a second and for stealing from you. But his instincts told him it was something worth looking into. Now, as he sat there on the couch, the memory of that discovery resurfaced with a new urgency. Something seemed to scream at him to check it, go through all the files, if it had any. So, he got up to grab it from his desk drawers in the small room that Dina had turned into a cozy office just for her husband. It was his own little space, off-limits to everyone else.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, the late-night quiet amplifying the soft clicks as he navigated through files. His hands slightly trembled as he connected the drive to the laptop. The screen flickered to life, and he began sifting through its contents. The hard disk had been gathering dust in his desk drawer for weeks, forgotten in the whirlwind of everyday life. But now, the potential it held was too significant to ignore. What secrets did it hold? What answers might it provide in the tangled web of this investigation?

With a deep breath, he clicked on the first file, hoping it would shine a light on the darkness they had been chasing for so long.

The last files were recorded the same day of the murder.

Jackpot.

He eagerly clicked on the very last file, skipping through a few hours, fast-forwarding past the mundane bustle of customers and staff. His eyes were glued to the timestamp, searching for the crucial moment. The diner’s atmosphere, usually so lively, felt eerie and heavy through the security camera's lens as if it held its breath for the impending doom.

Minutes ticked by in a blur of motion, the clock on the screen edging closer to the time he knew everything changed. Jesse’s fingers ghosted over the keys, ready to pause at any sign of something unusual. The familiar faces of regulars came and went, oblivious to the dark shadow about to come.

And then, there it was. The whole truth.

He watched the video, his eyes never leaving your grainy silhouette. The footage played out silently, no audio, no nothing. He saw the woman with the kid leave the diner, and Vanessa picking up the tip from the table as you stayed behind the counter. His heart pounded in his chest, the anticipation gnawing at him.

Moments later, the mysterious man walked in, his face obscured by a hood, just as you had described. Jesse's pulse quickened, a sense of foreboding creeping up his spine, "There he is..." he mumbled to himself. The man's movements were deliberate, his presence unsettling even through the grainy footage.

When the man left, Jesse's focus shifted back to Vanessa as she walked into the back room. You swiftly made your way to the front door, turning the sign to ‘closed’ and locking the doors with a practiced motion. His eyes followed you intensely as you walked back behind the counter, your actions precise and unwavering.

There was something almost poetic in the way you moved, a quiet determination that made his breath hitch. He watched as you retrieved a knife, the gleaming blade catching the dim light of the diner. With a sense of purpose, you followed Vanessa into the back room.

"No, no, no, no," he kept whispering over and over again, like some sort of prayer.

Jesse's mind raced, the pieces of the puzzle slowly coming together—it all felt surreal, as if he were watching a scene from a movie rather than real life.

The footage left him cold and shaking to the core. He felt a knot in his stomach. How could the woman he once knew as a kind-hearted soul be a serial killer? How could he have trusted a killer, a psychopath, all along? Fear rippled through his veins as he realized the danger he had exposed his son and wife to. He knew he had to act to bring this evidence to his team, but he needed to get Ellie first.

She needed to get out of that goddamn house immediately.

Without a moment to spare, he grabbed his jacket and his gun and swiftly left his home. He then drove hastily to Ellie's place, frantically calling her repeatedly, but she never picked up even though he was sure she was off her shift and definitely home.

“Ellie? Fuck, Ellie, answer your fucking phone! You home yet? You need to get out of there, man. Pleas-” His voice quivered, his clammy hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. His nerves were palpable as fear and anxiety coursed through his veins

“Please, if you’re listening to this, get out of that fucking house, don’t tell y/n anything. She’s not who you think she is. She is extremely dangerous. Call me ba-” Jesse's frustration heightened as the beep signified the end of the voicemail, “FUCK” he shouted, slamming his hand onto the steering wheel.

Your Apartment, 5:06 AM – November 6th, 2018.

When he finally arrived at the apartment building, he quickly bounded towards the door, rapping against it frantically. Ellie opened the door, a puzzled expression on her face. Jesse sighed, relief washing over him as he saw Ellie safe and sound.

“My fucking god, are you–are you alright?” his tone was agitated as he spoke, though Ellie appeared confused, chuckling softly in response.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, scarred brows arched in confusion as she struggled to comprehend the reason behind her friend's agitated demeanor, making an unexpected appearance at her doorstep at such an ungodly hour

“Look, we gotta go, you’re not safe” He urgently grabbed her arm, attempting to forcefully pull her out of her house but she was quick to snatch her arm away from his grasp, her annoyance evident.

Surprise, concern, and annoyance colored Ellie's face as she exclaimed, “What’s gotten into you, dude?”

Your wife is a serial killer, he wanted to shout at her, exposing you for the monster you were, but he knew better. He knew that Ellie would struggle to believe him if he presented it bluntly, attacking what she cared about the most, so he needed to tread carefully and it felt like walking on legos, not even eggshells. He couldn’t risk Ellie getting mad at him or, even worse–shutting the door in his face. If something happened to her, the guilt would haunt him forever.

“You have an idea of what time it is?” Her emeralds darted towards the clock on the living room wall for a brief second—nearly 5 am.

“Look, we don’t have time for-” he began to speak, suddenly struck silent as his friend turned around for a fleeting moment “Is y/n home?” He inquired with a concerned expression, his complexion noticeably paler than usual. His hands trembled as he nervously peered over Ellie's shoulder, desperate to catch a glimpse of you, but the auburnette blocked his way, shaking her head.

“No, why?” Her voice was calm and composed, a stark contrast to his agitated and tumultuous tone

“I’ve been calling you, where the fuck is your phone?”

“It died,” she responded curtly, running her fingers through her hair, a thoughtful expression crossing her face, lips pressing together. “Wanna explain to me what the fuck are you on?” her hands were firmly placed on her hips; her attentive eyes fixated on Jesse's agitated state—the furrowed brows, clenched fists, and the restlessness emanating from him. Pretty unusual.

“We need to go; I’ll explain everything on the way,” his voice tinged with a mix of desperation and urgency that Ellie had never heard from him. He tugged at her sweatshirt, but she didn't budge, retreating a step backward, distancing herself from him. She let out a deep sigh before reluctantly acquiescing to his request.

“Let me get my stuff first,” she said, disappearing inside, leaving his restless figure waiting on the doorstep.

He waited and waited and waited, the minutes stretching into what felt like an eternity. With each passing second, a gnawing sense of unease began to take hold. "Ellie?" he called out impatiently, his voice slicing through the silence, but there was no response.

"Ellie?" he tried again, louder this time, the name echoing eerily through the empty apartment. Still nothing. He let out a shaky exhale, feeling the tension coil tighter in his chest. His hand hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open wider, revealing more of the still and silent space. "Fuck," he mumbled under his breath, his pulse quickening. Reaching for his gun, he stepped inside cautiously, every sense on high alert.

The living room was eerily quiet, devoid of any signs of life. He moved through it slowly, each step deliberate and measured. His eyes scanned the room, searching for any clue, any hint of where his friend might be. Nothing. His gaze flickering to the pictures hanging on the wall, captured moments of joy and celebration, memories of your wedding day, now seeming almost like relics from another lifetime.

“...Ellie?” he called out again, his voice softer now, almost a plea. The word hung in the air, unanswered, as he continued his careful sweep of the apartment. He checked the kitchen and the bathroom—his mind raced with possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. It was as if Ellie had simply vanished into thin air. His grip tightened on the gun, the cold metal reassuring in his hand, the silence almost oppressive, pressing in on him from all sides.

Just as he made his way back to the living room, standing in the center of the room, trying to think clearly, a loud thump reverberated through the hallway, and before he could react, his body crumpled to the floor. Lifeless. Blood began to pool beneath him, a dark and viscous river flowing from the neat, round hole between his eyes.

You were humming a soft tune as you turned off the water, stepping out of the box shower and reaching for the towel hung nearby. The bathroom air was cool, and the contrast with your damp skin made you shiver, goosebumps rising in a wave across your arms and legs. A sharp hiss escaped your lips as the chill settled in.

You froze momentarily, ears perking up when you heard the unmistakable sound of the door shutting loudly from the living room. It wasn’t a sound you were expecting, and a flicker of unease sparked in your chest.

Did she leave the house without telling you?

Quickly, you wrapped the towel around your body, the soft fabric absorbing the droplets that still clung to your skin. You could feel them running in rivulets, leaving trails down your back and legs.

Leaving the bathroom, your bare feet left wet footsteps on the floor, as you made your way towards the living room, you began to hear strange, muffled noises—something between a rustle and a low murmur. Your heartbeat quickened, thudding loudly in your ears. The apartment was usually a sanctuary, but now it felt different, charged with an unfamiliar tension.

“El?” you called out, your voice tentative as it broke the silence. You listened intently, but heavy silence was all you got in response.

It was only when you stood by the doorframe of the living room that you saw her knelt down on the floor. You found yourself unable to move, every muscle tensed as if you were being turned to stone by the piercing gaze of Medusa herself. Her eyes were ice cold, piercing right through you, as Jesse's body lay lifeless at her feet. The sight of his still form and the pool of blood around him made your stomach churn.

Ellie stood abruptly, her movement sudden and jarring. Your smooth forehead creased into a furrow, the lines forming a delicate map of concern, both of you staring at each other without daring to say a word. The silence stretched out, thick and suffocating, each heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears. Your grip tightened on the towel, knuckles white with tension, as you stepped forward

“Right on the fucking rug?!” you burst out, your voice raising slightly. Ellie winced, the sharpness of your tone cutting through the tension.

“Baby, I’m sor—” she began, but you harshly cut her off, marching closer to her, careful not to step on the warm crimson liquid staining the fluffy white rug.

“You better fucking scrub that shit clean,” you snapped, pointing your finger at her, eyes narrowing. Your gaze shifted to the lifeless body of Jesse, lying awkwardly with a dark, spreading pool beneath him.

Despite the gruesome sight, you felt a strange calm; you knew there was a reason behind her actions; there always was. And you trusted her to death, so no questions were asked, the only thing that bothered you was the thought of having to throw away your favorite carpet of the house.

Ellie nodded vigorously at your demand, her face a mask of determination. You could see the guilt and resolve warring in her eyes, but you knew she would handle it.

“Look,” she mumbled, her voice steady as she knelt down, reaching into Jesse’s jeans pocket. She pulled out a small hard drive, leaving bloody fingerprints on it.

“Ah shit,” you cursed, snatching it from her stained hands. The tiny data storage device felt deceptively light in your palm, its importance weighing heavily on your mind. “Wonder when he stole it,” you mumbled, turning the hard drive over, examining it closely.

“He had always been a sneaky little bitch,” she hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. She kicked his thigh, her pretty features scrunched up in anger. The casual violence of the gesture made your skin crawl, but you couldn’t deny the truth in her words. Jesse had been a liability, a snake in the grass.

“Do you think he told anyone else?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Fear flickered in your eyes, the thought of getting caught sending a wave of nausea through you. You couldn’t risk that; no, no, you couldn’t.

Ellie shook her head, reassuring you, “he came here as soon as he found out—left a bunch of voicemails,” she explained. You exhaled slowly, a weight lifting from your shoulders. Relief washed over you; no one else would find out. The bond between you felt stronger than ever. She had always been there for you, protecting you no matter what, hiding evidence you clumsily left behind.

You stood by her side, looking down at the mess she had made. The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. Both of you were lost in your own worlds, your thoughts racing in different directions, her mind already strategizing the next steps while your own thoughts swirled in another direction.

“I really want a baby” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you had a chance to stop them, a soft pout forming on your lips. She turned towards you, her face breaking into a brilliant smile that illuminated the dimly lit room.

At that moment, her emerald eyes shimmered with a newfound glimmer, a blend of delight and astonishment that took your breath away, feeling a fluttering in her stomach. “Fuck- are you forreal?”

You nod your head slightly, unable to contain the matching smile that formed on your own lips “Yes, I thought abou-” you started to explain, but before you could finish, bloody hands moved in a swift motion, pulling you closer by the waist.

Her lips pressed against yours, the kiss urgent and full of emotion. You melted into her embrace, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her even closer. Your fingers tangled in her ember-hued locks, the softness of her hair contrasting with the gritty reality of the moment. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the overwhelming sense of connection and the shared excitement of a future you both wanted. Ellie's grip on your waist tightened, her hands staining the pink fabric of the towel still wrapped around your body.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, you rested your forehead against hers. The room around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared dreams and possibilities.

No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be

The only one for me is you, and you for me

So happy together-

"Alexa, shut it," you commanded, pulling a giggle out of Ellie, her cheeks heating up with a pink hue that only added to her beauty. Your thumb gently stroked her cheekbone, and her slender fingers reached out to teasingly play with the towel still clinging to your body, their silken touch sending a shiver down your spine as they danced along the contours of the soft fabric.

"I was thinking…" she began slowly and sultrily, a mischievous smirk adorning her face, "How about we keep tryin’ for that baby?" Her tone was innocent, almost as if she were asking you to play a simple game of cards.

"You spoke my mind," you replied, pressing a quick peck on her smirk. Her hands quickly moved down to your butt, making you jump in her arms and wrap your legs around her waist.

Your soft giggle was interrupted by her lips once again, kissing you passionately, and her hands, strong yet tender, held you securely. You could feel the warmth of her body through the thin fabric and the cool air of the room contrasting deliciously with your heated skin, making you shiver. Her lips moved with an urgency that matched your own, she was starved, she needed more.

You pulled back for a breath, your foreheads resting together. Her eyes, filled with love and desire, searched yours. "I love you," she whispered, her voice husky with emotion.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "I love you more."

With a shared laugh, she carried you towards the bedroom, your bodies intertwined and hearts beating in unison, falling in love with each other all over again.

No one would ever come between you, and no one would ever know what had happened here. Ellie had your back, and you had hers. Always.

I can't see me lovin' nobody but you

For all my life

taglist: @aouiaa

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zais-zafu · 9 months ago

Text

ʚïɞ ⋆｡ how I use psych k to reprogram my mind ｡⋆ ʚïɞ

hi everyone! today I am gonna talk about psych k - a combination of techniques I have been using to change any limiting beliefs I had and reprogram my subconscious to know it is limitless.

now available as a yt video!!

youtube

table of contents:

1. what is psych k & why/how it works

2. techniques to use

3. steps to follow in every psych session

｡⋆｡˚ ʚïɞ ˚｡⋆｡⋆｡˚ ʚïɞ ˚｡⋆｡⋆｡˚ ʚïɞ ˚｡⋆｡⋆｡˚ ʚïɞ ˚｡⋆｡⋆｡˚ ʚïɞ ˚｡⋆｡

chapter 1: what is psych k & why/how it works

so psych k is a collection of methods used to reprogram the subconscious mind through releasing old patterns of thinking, feeling, and behaving, it basically uses specific protocols to get you back to the super learning state you had as a child.

I find it quite great to use for changing beliefs around myself, my life, and my manifestations, also these techniques help you assess how strong (or real) a belief feels to you, which we will talk about later.

these techniques might take time to master as you get to know your body, but really you don't really need to be a pro to do them well. the practice is mostly about getting better at self-assessing your beliefs.

so why exactly does psych k work?

basically, as children until the age of 7, our brains engaged in a full-time mode of super learning. that meant that it was absorbing all kinds of beliefs, ideas, knowledge at such a fast pace, almost like our brain is made out of sponge. this meant that whatever environment we were put in affected our subconscious mind, directly rewiring new beliefs.

now where does psych k fall in all of this?

through psych k techniques, you are able to go back to the super learning mode of the brain we had as children, which in turn allows you to edit your subconscious beliefs directly w/o the conscious mind interfering. instead of going the long way with regular affirmations, you speed up the process with psych k!

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chapter 2: techniques to use

🫧 part 1: questioning/testing techniques

these techniques are used to test the strength of a belief or ask the subconscious mind 'questions' (in the form of affirmative statements, not actual questions).

so let's say I wanna test how strongly I believe, 'I am worthy of happiness,' if I truly believed it, I will get a strong response (depending on the technique used, more on that below) and if I don't believe it, I will receive a weak response. so basically, if you wanna receive insight to how your subconscious mind feels about certain statements, remember this point: strong response = yes and weak response = no.

now let's talk about some methods that you can use for testing, seeking permission, and asking the sub mind:

🦋 technique 1.1: arm lever test

this is my go to technique for testing a belief. you can find videos that demonstrated it in the sources at the end of the post, but here I will explain the steps of using it:

1. stand up, keep your face straight (don't lower your neck), keep your eyes open, and look down by lowering your gaze only

2. hold your arm out: extend one arm straight out in front of you. hold it a little upward

3. test with the other hand: use your other hand to gently press on the extended arm, kinda on the middle/wrist area

4. test statements: bring into your awareness a belief like 'I am worthy of happiness.' if the sub mind thinks the statement is true, your arm should stay strong and resist being pushed down (strong response), but if the statement is false, your arm would weaken and easily be pushed down (weak response).

🦋 technique 1.2: finger o-ring test

(never tried it but ig it is a more descrete and an easier way compared to the arm lever test, so if you decide to try it, lmk how it went!)

1. form a ring or O shape by touching the tips of your thumb and index finder together on one hand

2. test the ring: with the other hand, use your thumb and index finger to gently try to pull apart the O shape while saying specifc statements or affirmations. a strong response is the ring not breaking, a weak response is the ring formation breaking apart.

🫧 part 2: new belief integration techniques

now we will talk about the bulk of the work: reprogramming your subconscious mind. I will start with talking about the main technique I have seen being used and then some other techniques I have heard about, but I haven't really tested, now let's begin!

🦋 technique 2.1: the whole-brain posture (the "balance" position)

1. sit comfortably on a chair with your feet flat on the ground.

2. cross your legs and arms over each other:

there are 4 combinations in which u could do that: right ankle over left, right wrist over left / right ankle over left, left wrist over right / left ankle over right, right wrist over left / left ankle over right, left wrist over right.

the way you choose to do it is important since a side of your body holds the belief you wanna change over the other, I usually don't bother knowing which side is weaker (aka needs more reprogramming) & instead I do all of the 4 combination for like 5 minutes each (or until I feel that my mind has accepted the affirmations).

anywho, once you have decided which combination you will use for the next 5 minutes, extend your arms in front of you then interlock your fingers and bring your hands up toward your chest.

3. close your eyes, take in deep breaths to calm yourself down, and focus on affirming or visualising the belief you want to integrate for as long as you need (like I said, I usually do 5 mins).

4. once you're done, uncross your limbs and reposition.

5. save the new belief by placing your fingertips together in front of you (forming a pyramid shape) for a few seconds (if the sub mind is a computer, think of this as a safe command!)

6. if you wanna, rinse and repeat for all combinations.

🦋 other techniques:

2.2: cross-crawl exercise: stand up and march in place, lifting your knees high. as you lift your left knee, touch it with your right hand. then lift your right knee and touch it with your left hand. (this promotes integration of the two sides of the mind). continue for a minute or two, focusing on the positive belief or intention you want to integrate.

2.3: energy yawns: place your fingertips on your cheekbones and gently massage while yawning deeply. this relaxes the brain and enhances focus.

2.4: lazy 8s: trace a large figure 8 in front of you with your hand, moving from left to right. this exercise helps integrate both hemispheres and improve coordination.

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chapter 3: steps to follow in every psych session

next we are going to talk about some sort of procedure I have come up with for whenever I am doing a self-administered psych k session. you don't have to follow it exactly, but I hope it provides w the guidance you need to start immediately!

🦋 step 0: preperations

it is important for you to be in a relaxed, meditative state for the work to be even more effective so here are some extra stuff you can do before starting the session:

1. stay hydrated + keep some water beside you

2. sit in a quiet room all alone

3. use noise-cancelling earphones for more quietness

4. listen to some type of colour noise at all times to stay relaxed + focus inward instead of outward

5. keep some journal with you (or use the notes app) to record, reflect, and take any notes

🦋 step 1: establish the protocol

before starting anything I want you to have an idea of what exactly you wanna get out of this session, so sit down & write down the methodology for this session based on this chapter. so basically, you specify each of the following steps I will discuss in this chapter cos psych k has many approaches

you can also identify your why for carrying out this session and what affirmations/visualisations/etc. you will be using.

write that all down on a piece of paper or an online document, so you could refer back to whenever you need to remember the next step

🦋 step 2: prepare your mind and body

now you need to relax your body and mind, stop overthinking and stay present, for that I recommend breath work, I personally use the wim hof technique!

after you're done regulating your breathing, and with it your mind and body, take a moment to state your intention to connect with your subconscious mind, elevate any symptoms, and change beliefs using X affirmation (or any other technique), you can say this outloud or just in your mind.

🦋 step 2.5: identify what you want to work on

step 2 is built on the assumption that you already know what you wanna program, but if you don't you can use this stage before stage 2. here are some suggestions for how to pick a belief:

1. order beliefs and work on ones that are the most foundational, ones affecting multiple areas of life or your self concept

2. choose a belief that is urgent, that is it is causing you major stress in your life and it is what you mostly think of

3. layer your beliefs. what I mean is you can start with a general belief, such as 'I am capable.' and as you do more sessions, add more details to it, for example 'I am capable of succeeding in my career.'

4. google general limiting beliefs people have. you can even google specfic ones like 'limiting beliefs around love' and see which one resonates

5. journal, sometimes a quick journaling session can immediatly tell u what immediate obstacle there is in your thinking, which will give you a great idea of what belief you need to change

🦋 step 3: use a testing (permission) technique to identify where your beliefs are at, then test and establish baseline responses

like I said, psych k helps you understand how much you believe a belief, refer back to chapter 2 for some testing/permission techniques to use, but basically you will decide what technique you wanna use (I usually go for the arm lever test)

next, you will use the technique to establish what is a weak response for you and what is a strong one. you can use commands, such as 'be strong' & 'be weak,' or basic statements like 'my name is [false name]' & 'my name is [true name]' to understand what a true & false response feels like

🦋 step 4: ask question regarding the belief to test it & maybe revise intentions

so now that you know what a strong belief verses a weak one shows up in your body, it is time to ask some questions! basically you are gonna say your limiting belief (just like you'd say an affirmation and in present tense) and then test to see how strong (real) it seems + you will do the same for your affirmation to measure its strength

you can ask follow up Qs in the form of much specific statements to understand how your body truly feels about it. based on your findings, you can set new intentions if you think there's a better belief to work on rn.

🦋 step 4.5: ask for permission to change the belief using a testing/permission technique

for this you can use the same technique you used in the step before to test the belief. you basically set your intentions using something along the lines of, 'I request permission from my subconscious and superconscious mind to proceed with this belief change.' you can get more specific or change the wording to your liking

the reason this is step 4.5 is because I don't see it always being used, though I think it is good practice to ask for permission before trying to do something that might be too traumatic to do at this stage.

basically, a strong response = yes & a weak respone = no

if you get a no, you might wanna reflect (through your journal) on why this happened and how can you change that, maybe this is not the belief to change for today or maybe you gotta approach it from a different angle.

you can continue to test your sub mind through different statements and asking for permission, when you're satistified with the results you may continue!

🦋 step 5: choose a belief integration technique to integrate using the balance position

now for the bulk of the work! you're gonna decide on what technique you're gonna use to reprogram and what supplementary techniques you will use (affirmations, visualisations, aff tapes, etc.) (my fave rn is aff tapes!!)

like I said before, I typically use the whole-brain posture. and ofc, once you're done you will just save it as discussed, and then repeat it if you wanna

🦋 step 6: test the belief again

repeat step 4 & use a testing technique (like the lever test) to identify how your beliefs have changed

🦋 step 7: solidify your belief over time

give yourself a couple of weeks or a month and then, retest the belief again using a testing technique (after relaxing and getting into a meditative state of course).

then you can try to anchor them through visualising. another good way to solidify them is to set goals and actionable steps for yourself to challenge the old belief

& ofc pay attention to how you feel and if it feels like you need another session, go for it!

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andddd that's all!! thank you sm for reading and good luck reminding yourself that you are limitless! these techniques are on the newer side for me so let me know your experiences and thoughts on the topic cos I am always open to learning more about it <3

p.s: here are my main source that I reccomend watching as a beginner + if you wanna see live demonstration of the techniques:

https://youtu.be/xr7mZmIhBSg?si=fWyigeSDc9oPsdqn

https://youtu.be/qhDH_a3MHKo?si=XfGV8Mg5lIHAUSH8

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596 notes · View notes

thanksbutno98 · 8 months ago

Text

Drinking Buddies

John Price x wife!reader OC

Summary: John’s drunk night out with 141.

Warnings: Sexual themes, alcohol, intoxication, vomiting, not edited.

——————

It was getting late for what you considered a night out for your husband and his drinking buddies. John and his best mate Sam had decided a month ago to grab drinks with some friends and he had the 141 boys tag along. It was out of character for John to try and mix friends but he’d been so satisfied with his men’s work on their last deployment he insisted on treating for drinks.

When you listened to him chat your ear off about how his close friends would like ‘the lads’ you were surprised. You loved John’s friends, you’d known them much longer than Ghost, Soap, and Gaz. They were there when you first started dating John, for your wedding, when you brought your babies home, holidays, birthdays, countless camping trips, endless pubs and drunk nights. These friends John had since young adulthood and childhood felt like a second family a lot of the time. You knew John was right, his good friends who weren’t military were great people and would get along well with 141. The one thing they all had in common is they all adored your kids.

Hell, your kids called Sam, John’s closest friend, their bonus uncle. Sam charmingly had the nickname of ‘Sunny’ to your kids and you weren’t sure how Jj came up with it when he was three but it had stuck. They also adored the 141 boys so you were excited for your husband to go out to a pub, drink beer surrounded by close friends who truly cared. He deserved to have a night off as a dad and have fun.

The cars tires rolled over a gravely parking lot as you found a spot near the front. This was a pub that you knew Simon Riley liked because John would meet up with him here from time to time. It was a lone building off an old country road. It seemed to be swallowed by trees on three sides, save the road it sat on. The one story building was old on the outside and inside. It always surprised you how it could become packed at times and it brought in a crowd from young twenty somethings to elderly patrons who were regulars.

Hopping out of John’s truck your boots crunched against the gravel. Looking up into the night sky with a smile, you breathed out to watch your breath turn white and billow upward. It was the perfect kind of crisp night, one where a sweatshirt and leggings were enough to keep you warm. The air smelled of evergreens, campfires, and a damp forest.

“Indy! You made it!” Soap was standing outside in the cool night air. Cigarette in hand and a flushed rosy tint decorated his cheeks with a large toothy grin plastered across his stubbly face.

“He alive?” You asked jumping up on to the curb and reaching out to hug the intoxicated Scotsman. He gave you a tight hug and then offered you a drag of his cigarette. The smell of cigarette smoke almost covered up the scotch on his breath.

“I’m good.” You laughed off the gesture and watched Soap take a drag. The cherry red tip burned orange and then dimmed back into a warm ruby glow.

“He’s piss drunk. Never seen the Captain like this before, we’ll have to wheel him out.” With a hearty chuckle Soap tossed the hand rolled tobacco to the ground and snubbed it with the toe of his military grade boots.

“Oh, god. Drunk John can be a handful.” You laughed having not seen your husband out of control drunk in what felt like ages.

Walking into the pub behind Soap it was decently filled with patrons around your age and older. There was music playing, loud chatter, playful arguments, and drunks loudly calling for another round. Your eyes scanned the room and you quickly caught sight of the group of rowdy men by the pool table in the back left corner. Simon was taking his turn while Sam stood next to him, pool stick in hand and talking to Gaz who seemed to be dying laughing at whatever was being said.

John on the other hand was sat at the table with his childhood friend Ant with a half empty pint glass in one of his large hands. He looked normal from this distance in his grey beanie and burnt orange flannel. It made you wonder why John texted you asking you for a ride home and why Kyle had called and said ‘Caps gonna to need a lift home.’

“Hey boys.” You smiled sweetly and wiggled your fingers as a little wave.

“Indy!” Gaz cheered at the sight of you while Sam said your first name at a similar volume. You gave them another wave before making your way over to John’s table.

“Hello there.” With a cheery smile and sugary sweet greeting you watched your husband who had his eyes locked on you the second he noticed you. John’s icy blue eyes squinted a little too much and his cheeks rose into a large playful smile.

“Give me a spin, darling.” John’s deep voice rumbled from his chest and his hand came up and he used his index finger to indicate for you to turn around. Your jaw dropped at the forward flirting in front of everyone. That was so out of character of your normally tight lipped and respectful husband. He normally only spoke like that when it was you two in the privacy of your home.

“Okay, Romeo. I think you need a water.” No part of you could acknowledge that kind of flirting with the men who highly respected John around.

If it was only Sam and Ant you would’ve flirted back instantly with no shame. Probably would have given him a slow twirl and shook your ass at him to get a hearty chuckle from everyone. Those two knew John’s goofy side pretty well and dirty jokes and sex stories were common amongst you all. They’d also caught you two making out or groping each other over the decade long friendship you had. You’d walked in on Sam twice with past girlfriends on vacations you all took together before you and John started having kids. Ant’s wife Susie was a close friend so you knew way too many details about him and she knew the same about John. It was a very different relationship you and John had with these old friends versus 141.

“Don’t play hard to get, love. We both know you put out-“ Without thinking you panicked at what John was about to say.

His filter had clearly turned off with how drunk he was and you reacted in any way to get him to shut up. And that was to push his beer off the table and into his lap, the contents spilling all over him. John stood abruptly a heavy breath leaving his lungs as he looked down at his jeans and the large dark spot on his crotch that leaked down his left leg.

“Piss yourself Johnny!?” Sam cackled which resulted in snickers from the group of men.

“Seriously?” John looked up at you seeming to have sobered up for a split second.

“You had that coming with that dirty mouth.” You pointed accusatory at your husband trying to make it clear he needed to knock it off.

Internally you were screaming with laughter at the fact John was making such a fool of himself. It was also a lot more fun than you thought it would be to spill a beer on him. John only drunkenly smirked at you as you said ‘dirty mouth.’ He had every intention of showing you how dirty it could be.

“He’s been talking about you non-stop for the past hour.” Ant chortled out and gave you a wink. You could only imagine what these two married men had been sharing about their wives.

“Hopefully not like he just was.” You mumbled more to yourself as you waved John over to come with you.

“Cap’s very fond of his missus and her-“ Soap cleared his throat.

“‘Talents’” Soap used air quotes on the final word making you heat up in embarrassment at what John could possibly have said. There was something about the 141 boys hearing those things that was much more embarrassing. If it was only Sam and Ant you wouldn’t have minded what so ever.

“I don’t want to know.” You waved your hand dismissively.

John had to be drunk out of his mind to be chatting about you in that way. He didn’t tend to be a kiss and tell kind of guy. But then your mind wandered back to being perched in John’s lap on your bed right before he left for this outing. You had promised him a very erotic night when he arrived home and wondered if that might be what was fueling this behavior.

Whatever he told them you hoped they’d be too drunk to remember. Then you looked a little bit closer to see all the men were just as drunk as John. Gaz seemed the worst while Simon had started to turn a shade of pink from the liquor. Sam was his normal level of wasted and Soap seemed to be the least drunk but that wasn’t saying much as he stumbled a little standing still. Ant was sober and prepared to drive Sam home since he had given both him and John a ride here.

“You lot aren’t planning on driving yourselves right?” You motioned amongst the 141 boys who this seemed to just occur to.

There was a long lapse of silence as they looked amongst themselves.

“Okay, cmon. Everyone pile in I’ll take you home.” Grabbing John by the elbow you started to lead him out only for him to swing around and drunkenly stumble to the bar.

“Gotta pay my-“ he hiccuped “tab.”

You watched as all the men made their way to close out. It surprised you they had listened so well. Even Simon was listening which was unlike him, until you noticed him waving his hand around. You watched with a blank face as he ordered a last round of shots for them.

“If any of you puke in the truck I’m gonna kill you.” With a stern voice you threatened them all only to be brushed off.

“Bye Y/N, we’ll see you next weekend.” Ant gave you a hug with a very drunk Sam behind him.

“My favorite Price.” Sam grasped your face in his hands and kissed the top of your head.

“Bye Sam!” With a squeal of a laugh you hugged your husband’s best friend and waved goodbye as him and Ant made their way out of the pub.

“Okay, let’s go home.” John’s voice caught your attention so you turned to look at him.

Before you could get a good look at John his chest smushed into your face as both of his large muscular arms wrapped around your head. He placed his elbows on your shoulders and used you to lean on to try and steady himself. You weren’t the most coordinated person so this wasn’t going to be easy for you. Stumbling slightly you steadied yourself and attempted to push John off of you only for his arms to tighten around your head.

“I’m going to fuck you so good.” John slurred into your ear and you were glad this flirtation was quiet enough for only you to hear.

“Then let’s get you in the car.” You spoke, muffled against John’s shirt. He was way too drunk to consent in your mind so you were only appeasing him for the moment. With a rough push your husband finally let you go and you could breathe freely once again. Taking a deep breath you started to head for the door with a drove of intoxicated military men following behind you like ducklings.

“Thanks for the ride, Indy.” Gaz slurred out, giving John a hard pat to the back.

“Lucky man Cap.” He tacked on.

“Can we stop for food?” Soap asked, almost stumbling out of the pub door.

——————

“Hi, I’ll have- what was it again Simon?” Turning around the massive man was sat in the middle of the back seat of the truck; Soap to his left and Gaz to his right. Your eyes wandered as he grabbed the back of the bench seat and leaned forward in between you and John who was fiddling with the radio.

“We coached you on this ten times.” Gaz laughed at your expense and inability to remember this insane order. Then Simon rattled off the order with ease, it seemed like the four of them had done this before.

“Six double cheeseburgers, two chicken sandwiches, four large fries, three large cokes, one large Diet Coke, lots of bbq sauce, and a-“ Pausing Simon’s gaze fell on you.

“Vanilla, strawberry, or chocolate?” He asked cheeks rosy but face stern. To be honest he looked even more emotionless than you were use to.

“For what?” You asked back having told the boys you didn’t want anything on the drive here.

“And a chocolate milkshake.” Simon let go of seat back and fell back into his spot. The truck lurched and wheezed somewhat from the pure size of him.

“That way the old man won’t steal it from you.” Nodding his head solemnly Simon was looking out for you in his own way. Which you thought was strange but also appreciated he was trying to be sweet to you, which wasn’t his style.

“Chocolates the bloody worst.” John mumbled under his breath.

“Okay, does everything look correct on the screen.” The intercom voice asked you. Looking over you saw everything listed out and then your eyebrows shot up at how expensive this drunken meal would be.

“Yes.” You squeaked out, then turned your focus back to driving as you pulled up to the window.

“Here.” Gaz’s voice sounded behind you but all you saw was his hand in your face passing you his credit card. You took it with a small thanks and exchanged it with the cashier before handing it back to Gaz.

“Thanks, mate.” Soap drunkenly slurred, he was slouched against his seat with his head thrown back. He was looking to be in rough shape.

“Is he going to be able to eat?” You asked John who ignored you and continued to try and find the radio station he desired, so you poked him. Turning around awkwardly three separate times to look at the Scotsman’s, the final time John looked Soap up and down and then dramatically waved his hand at you.

“Lads fine. Food’ll give him a second wind.” Then John went right back to the radio.

You were handed two huge bags of food that you passed to your drunk husband to distribute. Then the drinks came where everyone got their cokes, and Gaz got his Diet Coke. The car was silent save the rustling of wrappers, obnoxious burps, and John trying to convince Soap to trade one of his chicken sandwiches for a burger. You enjoyed your milkshake and the classic rock station as you drove everyone home. A debate on the perfect McDonald’s order broke out amongst the boys. Soap was admittedly a chicken sandwich man and you were surprised at Gaz’s passion on Diet Coke.

The boys had all been dropped off at Simon’s house where Simon insisted they could sleep. They left behind their trash from McDonald’s which was leaving a heavy greasy smell in the air. You silently prayed for Dove having to deal with three rowdy, large, and intoxicated men.

Simon was pretty thoughtful because he drunkenly mentioned you shouldn’t be out driving this late, you had to get home to your kids. There was an off handed thank you as he drunkenly got the boys into his house. He was right, it was late and you knew your dad would want to be getting home himself.

You were now pulling up the driveway with a loudly snoring John who was half laying on the trucks bench seat. His head was tossed back against the window, shoulders slumped and lower back laid out flat. John looked so uncomfortable but he was passed out which felt like an improvement to the tangent he had gone on for ten minutes after you dropped the boys off. It was a confusing mess of jumbled words about why American cheese burgers would always be a better hangover cure and Soap was delusional to think otherwise.

Putting the truck in park you looked over to your loving husband who may have over done it tonight. He was going to be feeling this in the morning.

Gently you placed your hand on his thigh and began to rub soothingly to try and wake him. Your opposing hand came to his chest and did the same, wiping away the crumbs from the chicken sandwich he had eaten. John began to rouse one eye opening only somewhat as he shifted away from you.

“I’m married. Get away.” John’s left hand came up and tried to create distance although his reach missed you by a mile.

“It’s me, John.” You giggled scooting a bit closer to try and get him to open his eyes and take a good look at you.

“I k-now my wife.” John grunted angrily in his half asleep drunk state.

“Oh yeah?” You laughed harder this time. Hands now cupping his hairy cheeks, you swiftly kissed his lips to prove you were indeed his wife. With eyes still closed John’s mouth dropped open and an angry look of disbelief spread across his bearded face. Your actions seemed to leave him totally and utterly offended.

“Get away, woman!” John drunkenly slurred, weakly pushing your hands off his face. Then he used his foot to aggressively push himself as far away as he could physically manage, jamming himself up against the door. He was acting as if you were about to throw yourself at him and he needed to run far away.

“My w-ifesss a better-“ he hiccuped “kisser than that.” His left hand fumbled with the door before he was able to pull the lever to make his escape. John practically fell out of the truck somehow catching himself and stumbling against the now flung open door.

“Jesus, John be careful! You’re gonna break your neck.” Your niceness vanished as you forcefully scolded the man.

John turned quickly, his face fixed in exaggerated confusion although you weren’t sure he was exaggerating with how drunk he was. With head cocked to the side he bent forward slightly and squinted his eyes trying to get a better look at you.

“Maybe you are my wife. She can be rather bossy.” John commented before tripping backward and falling on his ass. You thought he deserved the fall for a comment like that.

You stared at him with a blank look as he started to chuckle to himself on the ground. You being sweet wasn’t convincing enough to him. It took you to be snappy with him for John to recognize you as his wife. With a heavy eye roll you turned the truck off and went to go help the fool you married.

By the time you rounded the car John was flat on his back and staring up at the sky.

“Stars are gorgeous.” He muttered as you started to help him up to his feet.

“Let’s get you to bed, big guy.” Wrapping John’s arm around your shoulder he put some of his weight on you as you pulled him in the direction you needed him to go.

“My wife won’t like that.” John mumbled his head still cast up at the sky and looking at the stars.

“I am your wife.” Your tone was bratty and annoyed.

“Let me look at you.” John stopped abruptly, stood to his full height, stumbled a bit but found his footing. Grabbing you by the shoulders he pulled you so you were standing directly in front of him. Squinting in the patio light he slowly inched closer and closer to your face taking a good look at you.

“Tell me to do something. But be a little nasty about it, in a sexy way.” The question had your former giddy expression falling into a deadpan one. You looked at John as if he were the dumbest man to ever cross your path which made him smile for some odd reason.

“Never mind that looks enough.” John chuckled before planting a rough kiss to your lips. He was then off toward the door, accidentally running into the picnic table. You could only chuckle in disbelief at the man as you quickly made your way to help guide him.

Getting John up the stairs and to bed felt like an intense workout. By the time he face planted into the mattress you were completely out of breath. Huffing and puffing as you went to go get him water and some crackers.

Coming back into your bedroom you saw John now in nothing but his boxers and struggling to get his socks off. He was standing and bent over allowing his boxers to slide down just enough to get a peak at his bum.

“Let me help.” You snickered before placing the water and crackers on the bedside table and then guiding John to sit down. Sliding John’s socks off you then left a kiss to his forehead.

“Sweet angel.” John whispered to himself, eyes wide and in awe of you.

He stared up at you from where he sat with absolute adoration. You could only shake your head in disbelief. He went from not recognizing you to acting like you were some goddess gracing his presence. John quietly watched you undress and slip into your pajamas, the whole time admiring your beauty. They consisted of an old baggy t-shirt of yours and a pair of maroon panties.

“Lay down, let’s go to bed.” Sweetly you crawled in to bed after switching the lights off and helped John under the covers. It was a struggle, he banged his elbow twice in the darkness but eventually settled in.

“Let me spoon you, darling.” Before you could respond to the deep words John’s hands had latched onto your hips and dragged you from your side of the bed and over to him. It seemed to be easy to manhandle you, reminding you how impressively strong he was. Those muscles you loved so much weren’t just for show, they were capable of doing much more than tossing you around in bed.

“What are you doing?” You giggled as John hands wandered your body. His thick fingers fumbled over your t-shirt searching for the hem of it. The way his beard rubbed and scratched against your shoulder and neck felt amazing, making you crave so much more from the man with whiskey breath.

“Hmm. Helps me sleep.” John hummed sounding very happy with himself.

“We aren’t doing anything tonight.” Your giggles picked up while John slipped his hands under your top to fondle your boobs.

Squeezing them and massaging the flesh he hummed in satisfaction. With a bit of a shift John pressed his crotch firmly against your ass. There was the lack of his normal bulge he couldn’t help most nights. You knew it was from the whiskey and you thanked the amber liquid internally.

John was way too intoxicated to have sex and you weren’t in to having sex when you were pretty sure he wouldn’t remember in the morning. Looking over your shoulder you couldn’t make out his face in the darkness but soon enough one hand had slipped into your panties to cup your cunt while the other stayed on your right breast. He stopped playing with you and in a few minutes was snoring loudly in your ear.

“Such a dude.” You muttered with a chuckle to yourself.

——————

“Need me to hold your hair back?”

“Piss off.” John coughed violently.

Your man of steel, unbreakable John Price was currently on his knees hunched over the toilet in your en suite. He had woken up and ran straight for the bathroom. The sound of John dry heaving and then vomiting was what woke you up. He had been at it for almost fifteen minutes now. As gross as it was you sat next to him and rubbed his back through it all.

“A shower might help.” Speaking softly you squeezed John’s bare shoulder.

“Shoot me.” John groaned deeply as he finally stood seemingly done. Still sitting on the floor you watched in amusement as the muscular man tossed off his boxers and clamored into the shower.

“I’ll start breakfast.” You called as you got up to leave.

“Darling?” John sounded desperate as he called for you.

“Yes?” You smiled back seeing him through the foggy glass shower.

“Could you make me something greasy?” John wasn’t one to beg but it sounded like he was.

“I have the perfect thing for you.”

It took John awhile to appear downstairs. By the time he did you had your three children ready for the day, sat at the kitchen table with eggs, toast, and fresh fruit. Evelyn and Jj were complaining that they wanted their father to eat with them when John appeared. He didn’t bother getting dressed for the day, he had put on fresh pajamas. This consisted of green plaid pants, a black fitted t-shirt and chestnut slippers the kids picked out for him as a birthday present.

At the sight of John, Lily loudly squealed in excitement from her high chair and stuck her arms out to be picked up. John simply squeezed one of her hands and didn’t pick her up.

“Daddy you look horrid.” Evelyn had an intensely judgmental look on her face as she continued to eye her father up and down.

“I feel it too.” John grumbled while he slid into his normal seat at the head of the table.

Normally John kissed each of his kids on the tops of their heads after a warm greeting shared between you two. It’s how each morning went and your children all turned to you. Their young faces were worried and silently asking if John was okay.

“Your dad’s not feeling the best so we have to be extra nice to him. Okay?” Standing at the stove cooking you called over your shoulder.

“Okay.” Evelyn continued to stare at John as if she were trying to pick him apart.

“Does that mean no cinema today?” Jj asked quietly.

John picked his head up from his hands and look at the ten year old. Jj had his eyes cast down on his plate. It was evident he knew the answer and it disappointed him, but he was still asking. With a distressed look John turned to you as if that would save him from this broken promise. You only shrugged and went back to finishing up his breakfast; not willing to get involved. A hangover in your book wasn’t ample reason to cancel the plans he made with his two oldest children.

“How about movie marathon on the couch? We can eat sweets and crisps until I’m so fat you’ll have to roll me upstairs.” The comment about John getting fat made the ten and eight year olds snicker at the silly idea.

“What movies?” Jj asked. The disappointment of not going out to the cinema seemed to disappear with John’s compromise.

“What movies do you two want to watch?” John was so grateful for his children being such good sports. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if they had a meltdown. His head was already splitting, stomach in bad shape, and would be in need of a nap soon.

“Star Wars!” The two oldest Price children shouted in unison.

It was loud enough John flinched and had to rub his temples, his headache worsening.

“Why don’t you two go grab your pillows and blankets, get set up on the couch and change into pjs. I’ll clean up your plates today.” Your little act of sweetness had your children lighting up, then bounding out of their seats and running down the hallway and up to their rooms.

“Thank you mum!” Their sweet voice rang through the house.

“Hangover cure.” You smiled triumphantly at your husband who pulled his hands from his face to see a cheeseburger sitting in front of him.

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are? You’re absolutely divine.” John took your hand and kissed the back of it. Tugging you close and sighing contently as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder from behind. Your comforting touch and greasy burger felt like a cure to this intense hangover.

“You were telling the boys that last night.” You smirked, kissing his scruffy cheek sweetly. John was digging in and shaking his head clearly remembering what he had said. You had been itching to know.

“Nothing too out there.” John admitted.

“Then what? Apparently I’m very ‘talented.’” You quoted Soap. This seemed to make John squirm a little.

“Might have mentioned you’re on the adventurous side. Very willing and. . . Enthusiastic.” It was clear John was picking his words carefully as to not piss you off.

“Ah, so I’m a whore for you?” You giggled getting a nervous chuckle from your husband.

“Never said that. But aren’t you?” John exuded charm and he was lucky for that because it had you swooning.

“Yeah, I’ve got no shame in that. But you’re a whole lot worse for me.” Pulling back, bottom lip caught between your teeth you watched your husband carefully.

“Have you seen yourself? Bloody impossible to keep my mitts off you.”

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