#let me put regular tags first

[scribblekingdom]

Mourning Flower 🏛 x Sumeru Rose 🌱

Painting practice with my favourite boys :)

[nabaath-areng]

“... Were it to be discovered that I am sheltering a wanted fugitive under my clans banner, the sole heir of the infamous enemy clan no less…” the lord says as he swirls the sake in the cup, “I should not need to explain the risks that come with being implicated as a participant in the tragic downfall of the Yokoyama clan.”

“Indeed, I know full well how much is at stake with you supporting me," Miyabi says, "and once again I know not how I could ever repay you for your boundless generosity." A shaky breath— "However…”

“If it is coin you seek, I am afraid I must disappoint,” Miyabi says, suddenly wondering if he’s actually bitten off more than he can chew after all. The mission to retrieve the sword he could do and did… But money? Surely the lord must know that any potential wealth to speak of burned down along with his past on that gruesome night. The lord, to Miyabi's surprise, only barks out a laugh.

“You are wise beyond your years, enough so that I forget how young a man you actually are at times,” the lord says, and the grin his lips curve into is downright searing, “I understand however that there are things that your current circumstances have prevented you from learning.” Indeed, simply being an heir does not lend you the skill, nor the knowledge that is required to prevail in the noble world. Particularly not when everything that was promised, title included, all get razed to the ground before you could inherit any of it. He knew all this, and yet Miyabi sought this man out. His father is in all likelihood cursing his name right now, down in whatever hell Miyabi sent him to... but until his own time is up and he joins both him and mother down there, he can only do whatever it takes to survive... Including seeking shelter under his late fathers' nemesis in life, and spending the quiet eve inside his private quarters to share more than just drinks.

"I apologize for my ignorance," Miyabi says, "...as well as for my disrespect, for I would ask for your guidance and wisdom." Once more, the lord laughs. It's a more than pleasant sound, and Miyabi distantly recalls hearing rumours about his lordship never wanting for company throughout his younger years, all thanks to the man's effortless charm as well as quick wit and intellect. Like every other whisper shared between the adults back then, it was never something Miyabi was meant to hear, this he knows. But it's certainly not hard to believe it, now that the man in question is right there before him, in the very flesh. Kami knows Miyabi would never dare to presume this to mean they are equals... his is an existence that is most inauspicious, as it turns out. However, there is no denying the fluttering in his chest when the lord moves to slowly leans forward, inching closer as if he is nothing more than prey being backed into a corner.

“My dearest Miyabi…" the lord says, "As the head of my clan for just about 20 years, believe me when I tell you that far from all business agreements are settled with simple things such as goods, or even currency. Indeed, most people can be persuaded to do whatever should you wish them to, so long as you offer them that one thing they couldn’t possibly refuse in that particular moment.” His voice has lowered, not quite a whisper, but enough to make Miyabi feel as if he is being imparted something truly profound and special. As if he is special, and that he is being trusted over anyone else there is to trust. He, the murderous son. He, the only one aware of the truth, and the sole being left to remember there was ever a world with Ako in it. And yet this man looks directly at him, with not a single trace of neither disgust nor fear. He has leaned even closer in fact, radiating warmth from both body and soul, and however could one possibly hope to repay such kindness? Eyes meet once more, Miyabi can't recall having averted his in the first place, and suddenly it's as if he's struggling to breathe.

“Think, Miyabi… I know that you’re much smarter than your late father ever were. Surely you can come up with something else with which to repay my generosity?” It is now the lord’s eyes that drift off, away from Miyabi’s face and down lower to his body. His robes have begun to open by the collar after their long night of drinks and conversation, in a futile attempt to stave off the heat which stubbornly clings to him. The display is undoubtedly too inappropriate for any decent company—

Ah. Never let it be said that Miyabi is anything but adaptable to any and all circumstances. “… Perhaps I do,” he says, tugging lightly at the robe to reveal hints of his own chest. A small test of sorts, to gauge the reception of his audience, and he decides to try and top the show off with a coy tilt of the head, along a cautious gaze through downcast lashes.

The wolfish grin he receives in response confirms that Miyabi picked the right choice. He’s not entirely inexperienced, not by any means... but it has been a while, and he's under no illusion that he will be able to compare to his lordship's previous conquests. But those eyes... Miyabi can feel them as they trace languid paths all over where skin is exposed. The rustling fabric from the robe he now lets slide down his shoulders feel louder in his ears than even his own heartbeat, He cannot hold back the gasp that leaves his lips when his waist gets grabbed by two big, strong hands. Never before have Miyabi felt as small as he does right now in this moment, nor has he ever been this maddened by want and desire as strong as this. When was the last time anyone touched him? Though what does it matter what once was, now that he's seated so comfortably in his lordship's lap? He preens, for the proof of his lordship's approval presses firmly against his rear through multiple layers of fabric Miyabi cannot wait to be rid of. It's easy to fall into the performance when you have an audience following your every move with so blatant a hunger. Any and all worry that was still lingering in Miyabi's mind all but completely evaporate, like mist that rise from the surface of a calm mountain lake during early summer morning. Surely he’ll figure out how to best perform as he go, he decides. Cautiously his hands meet both skin and scale, and while his fingers trace over those strong shoulders and the scales there, so does he simultaneously relieve the lord of his robe too, shuddering from the anticipation of what's soon to come.

Miyabi leans in as if for a kiss... but stops just shy of their lips meeting, and he never knew such a small act could boost one's confidence so. “Allow me to express my utmost gratitude," he whispers, and now there is truly no turning back. The lord laughs darkly. "Clever little thing, aren't you? Show me, then. Show this lord how grateful you are." Time speeds up after that. The only thing Miyabi hears before his face is grabbed for rough, deep kisses that steal his breath away is his lord muttering under his heaving breath.

"A damned minx is what you are, boy." Miyabi prays that this night will leave them no time for actual sleep.

[sleepy-stitches]

my brain is so evil. why do i have no energy to clean my room. why does it all go to writing weird fucked up yuri. like why am i sitting here enraptured heart and soul by a piece of writing that was meant to be a fragment at best but i am discovering has three entire parts to it. why is that where we are at. i need to clean my fucking room

[disenchanteds]

.

[suguann]

tags. fem!reader, boss/employee relationship, stupidly domestic, little wife kink in there somewhere, nanny reader, single dad gojo, breeding kink [18+ only]

You sometimes find yourself wistfully imagining having a family of your own—a soft and sweet little bundle to cuddle and someone strong and capable (competent) at your side. But you can’t think of the last time you’ve been on a date where that person had the same interest in something more serious than casually sleeping around. 

Nannying seemed like the natural conclusion, especially when you’re still settling in a new city and barely scraping by for rent and student loans for a degree you don’t use. 

You pick up a few jobs just to get a feel for it: parents going away for a honeymoon, a last-minute call-in, a weekend business trip. Then a friend of a friend says she makes enough to afford one of those picturesque apartments that overlook tall high-rises and iridescent lights, the very ones you’ve dog-eared in real-estate magazines.

All it takes are a few phone calls and an interview until you’re packing up your apartment and taking the freeway outside of the city to somewhere remote and expensive, your car looking almost out of place parked beside the shiny new one in the long driveway.

You rap on the front door before you lose your nerve, and a few moments later, it opens, and you’re unsure who looks more out of place: this man with a smile too big, dressed for work, immaculate suit dampened by the baby rag slung over his shoulder and what looks like drool on his crisp collar, or you in your scuffed shoes and second-hand store clothes, standing in front of the nicest house you’ve ever seen.

“The nanny?”

“Yes,” you mutter, licking your lips. “That’s me.”

“Good, Ren just woke up from his nap,” he says, opening the door a little wider with a creak. The darkness behind him is almost comforting.

You take a deep breath and pass over the threshold into his home.

The entire time, his hand stays on the small of your back to steer you toward the nursery, and a shiver threatens up the length of your spine.

Three months. That’s how long it takes before your employer poses a problem.

It’s not that he’s a terrible boss; in fact, he’s quite the opposite. He lets you take over one of the many spare rooms in his massive house, pays you double the regular rate, and gives you time off when you ask for it.

It also helps that Ren is cute, only a year old, and still so sweet and tiny. 

Perfect.

The problem lies in that you know what he sounds like first thing in the morning, that he knows how you like your coffee, that he helps you fold laundry in the living room while the baby naps, how you catch him staring anytime you hold his son—his expression shuttered, a foreign thing that you can’t read. It’s all so terribly domestic. 

Terrible in that you think it’s a horrible idea to develop a crush on your boss, that you can’t help but get flustered anytime he so much as looks your way, even if it’s fleeting. How a sleepy smile before he retires to his room for the night can turn your thoughts into a scattered, ill-defined mess of what they used to be until all that’s left are words like spun sugar melting on your tongue.

But also, it’s not normal, at least not from your experience. 

You were lucky in the past if your employer even wanted to know about their kid’s day. Barely saying hello once they walk through the front door before sending money to your bank account.

Satoru—because that’s what he asked you to call him one afternoon while you were in the middle of feeding Ren mashed banana, a lazy smile curling the edges of his lips after you say it for the first time—wants to know everything: what Ren ate, if he laughed, how your day was, if you finally got your hands on that book you’ve been meaning to buy. 

“You don’t have to ask about my day,” you tell him shyly, accepting the glass of wine he proffers you after spending the past hour trying to put a teething baby to bed. “To make me feel better, that is.”

“Would it be so bad if I said I want to? You live here, too.”

You try to separate the two: that he cares as your employer and not for any other reason, and how you sometimes catch the soft look in his eye whenever he looks at you could make you believe otherwise.

Cool fingers cup your chin gently, thumb caressing the top of your cheek, now close enough that you catch a few of the warm notes of his cologne, a move that’s probably very inappropriate between a boss and an employee.

“I never say anything I don’t mean.”

You swallow, nodding, slightly shaky, breath caught in your chest. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He retreats to his office before witnessing how those two words knock the wind out of you.

He starts saying things like our shopping list, our car—because he gave you the keys to the SUV parked beside his car and hasn’t touched it since; for you and the baby, he said, plus it’s terrible on gas when I drive it to work—our house, our baby. You don’t think he means to do it; it's more of an easy slip in conversation.

But then, one morning, he’s rushing around the kitchen, hair still damp and smelling like his shampoo, as he grabs his coffee and briefcase from the counter, kissing Ren’s forehead first…and then yours.

You’re half convinced that you imagined it—that his lips hadn’t stayed there for a second longer than necessary—until he straightens his tie and heads out for the day with a ‘be good’ tossed over his shoulder, and you’re left wondering if he meant to say that to you or Ren.

It sets off a chain reaction of thoughts whirling away in your head, leaves you wanting and wondering—only ever allowing yourself to fantasize a little when the house is quiet and dark, the baby monitor humming on your nightstand, and images of your boss flit behind closed eyelids as you fit your hand underneath your soft sleep shorts.

In the morning, you worry he can tell what you did, his smile almost too sharp, too something—more teasing than what you’re used to—his hand resting on your lower back as he leans down to kiss Ren’s chubby cheek while you make breakfast.

“I have a meeting this afternoon, so I’ll be late. Want me to pick up some food on the way home?”

No, you think, there’s no way he knows.

You spend most of the morning cleaning and folding the array of graphic onesies Satoru has a penchant for dressing Ren in, and the later half walking around the pool because it’s warm and Ren enjoys splashing around in the water. It’s enough to tucker him out for bed early, unable to keep his eyes open while eating a plate of mashed potatoes.

It’s also the first time in weeks that you have the night to yourself, no baby keeping you busy, no Satoru to—well.

After a long shower, you step out of the bathroom, moving into the hallway. And there are many reasons why you felt confident walking the few steps it took to reach your bedroom. Most revolve around what Satoru told you that morning, so you don’t expect him to be standing there, shirtsleeves rolled up, piercing gaze sliding down the length of you wrapped in a towel and little else.

“I brought home those drunken noodles you like,” he says when his eyes focus back on your face, his whole expression softening into a smile.

A beat. “Thank you,” you whisper, unable to look away.

He tucks the wet strands of hair clinging to your cheek behind your ear. “Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll join you downstairs?”

The noise in your brain goes static.

You’re unsure what causes it, but everything changes when he comes home early one afternoon and finds you and the baby napping in the nursery. He has this soft look on his face and something else you can’t decipher with his piercing blue eyes settled firmly on you.

Ren coos softly into your shoulder. 

When Satoru picks him up and settles him in the crib, then walks you to your room—here, let me help you—and when he hovers in your doorway, you let him in without question.

He doesn’t waste any time peeling off your clothes, eager to have you naked and splayed out underneath him. You cum on his tongue more times than you can count until you’re silently begging him to fuck you.

He laughs, large hands spread over your tummy. 

“Use your words, baby. I’m not a mind reader.”

You feel like you’re someone else watching you from somewhere else, another body rocking against the length of your boss’s cock, back arching every time you manage to find the friction you need. He’s hard against your back, thick in a way that makes you wonder if he did enough to stretch you out. 

“I-I want—”

All other thoughts are obliterated by the stretch and press of him against your cunt. 

“Think I’m going to keep you,” he rasps, lips dragging over your throat. “Keep this drippy little cunt spread open on my desk whenever I want while the baby naps. Would you like that? For me to fuck you full until you give me a baby.”

You clench, nerves shot.

“Gonna get all round with my baby, stay here forever,” he mumbles when he draws away, and you can’t tell if the words are meant for you to hear or slip out without him realizing. “Fuck—breed my little wife until it takes—”

Your eyes roll up, lost in the little promises he paints across your skin, body shivering over and over until you’re sobbing from it until he has to clamp a hand down over your mouth—shh, you’re going to wake the baby—going limp when he finally cums, pressing as deep as your body will allow, as if he can somehow imprint himself there. 

Wonders if maybe he’s been building up to this moment all along. 

It’s so easy to lay there after, blissed out while he litters kisses across your face and collarbones, letting him lift your hips up to slide a pillow underneath, even though the position is awkward when he tries to cuddle you afterward.

His fingers draw shapes on your stomach, giving you a wistful look, like he can’t believe he’s laying here with his cum still dripping between your thighs—no matter how many times he scoops it up and pushes it back inside you. “Do you think it’ll take?”

And you don’t have the heart to tell him about the little foil packet of pills tucked away in your nightstand.

[smutoperator]

Walk In The Park

Oh Haewon, Bae Jinsol x Male Reader

Tags: A2M, (lots of) anal, anal creampie, ass licking, ball worshipping, body stacking, boob flashing, butt plugs, (lots of) cock sucking, cum in mouth, facefucking, fisting, gape, girl-girl kissing, leggings, no-hands blowjob, public blowjob, squirting, threesome

Word count: 5067

It was just a regular walk in the park for you on a beautiful Saturday morning. Some good exercise running and jogging, like always, until you found a pair of girls who caught your attention practicing.

"Hello," you said to the girls. "Nice to meet you," a dark-haired girl answered you. "Nice to meet you as well," the short-haired blonde girl beside her said as well.

"I'm Haewon," the dark-haired girl introduced herself. "And I'm Bae," the short-haired one soon said. "We've been so busy these past couple of months; it's so nice we can finally take some time off," Haewon said to you.

Haewon and Bae played with each other, and you followed them. "These views are so amazing," the short-haired girl said. "Take a pic of us in this beautiful place," Haewon suggested, both girls getting closer to the entrance of one of the park's gardens.

Bae stretched herself out. "You're so flexible," Haewon said. "This place is so beautiful, I could stay here for the whole day," Bae said. You three continued walking along the gardens, taking pictures of these beautiful girls with your phones. But little did you know things would take a sudden naughty turn.

"This is a great view. Do you like this view too?" Haewon asked, pulling Bae's top to the side and exposing her boobs. The short-haired girl smiled. "What are you doing?" you asked them, a little confused as they giggled at you. "I'm teasing you," Haewon answered.

"You want to see mine too?" Haewon asked, flashing her boobs at you. "Wow," you exclaimed as you saw her beautiful, perky tits popping out. "What is going on?" you asked, but obviously didn't complain as you kept taking pictures of these two beautiful girls with their boobs out in the open.

Haewon and Bae bounced their boobs in front of you before pushing them back inside. "He is such a cute guy," Haewon chatted with her friend. "I can't wait to get my hands on him," Bae answered her. "Me too," Haewon said. "The three of us? I don't know," Bae asked her. "I think he can handle that," Haewon said. "Then let's find out," Bae continued.

"Come here, we have something to tell you," Haewon invited you to a very secret corner in the garden. "What's happening?" you asked her. "We are having an idea," Haewon said as she kissed Bae. "Looks like you learned a lot from YoonA," Haewon said, alluding to all those times Bae had kissed her other groupmate.

"What's going on?" you asked the girls. "What do you think?" Haewon asked back. "Me, you, and Bae hiding in the bushes for some sexy stuff no one in this park can see," Haewon finally answered. "Just follow us; let's have some fun," Bae said.

Bae and Haewon surrounded you, kissing you and running their hands over your body. It didn't take long for Haewon to reach under your shorts, though. "Wow," Bae said, watching her friend work on it while she pulled your shorts down, exposing the bottom of your both as both girls got their hands in your cock. Bae kept kissing you, but Haewon wasted no time, dropping on her knees to suck your cock from the get-go.

You took Bae's bra top off, enjoying her perky tits while Haewon got your cock throbbing down low, both girls softly moaning. You reach your hands under Bae's leggings, rubbing her pussy as she's wearing no panties under them, Haewon smiling as she sees it.

"Wanna come down here and see how it tastes?" Haewon asks Bae. "Of course," the short-haired girl answers. "Wow, that's such a big cock," Bae continues as she puts it in her mouth for the first time.

Both girls move their heads on your shaft, each one of them licking one side of it. "Oh yeah," you groan, Bae taking some time to suck your balls while Haewon takes on your tip. "You girls are so good," you tell them, looking down and enjoying their two beautiful faces all over your cock. "Suck it," you command Bae, pushing her head against your crotch while Haewon takes her turn with your balls. "She's taking it so well," Haewon says, praising her friend.

Bae takes on your cock wonderfully, you pushing her head further against your cock and fucking her face. "You like how she sucks you?" Haewon asks with naughty eyes. "We are all yours today; I want you to fuck us both," Haewon then unveils their plans.

Bae gives you such an amazing blowjob it doesn't take long for you to burst as you quickly ejaculate in both Bae's and Haewon's mouths. "Ohhh yes, oh fuck," you groan, both girls enjoying as you give them a good dose of your warm milk, them kissing each other and swapping your cum.

"Let's go to our dorms for a second round," Haewon says. "Let's go," As soon as she does, one of the park's guards spots the three of you, blowing his whistle as he sees your cock sticking out. You three quickly run from his grasp, you guiding Haewon and Bae to your car as they show you the directions to JYP's dorms.

The three of you arrive at the dorms, which are completely empty as the other Nmixx girls went for lunch, Haewon guiding them to her room. "Finally here," you say to the girls. "Much better," you tell them, Haewon already making her moves as soon as you three get there, touching your crotch and giggling. Bae pulls your shirt, you share a triple kiss, and Haewon quickly reaches to unbutton your shorts and gently stroke your cock.

Bae joins Haewon as both girls now have their hands all over your cock. "I'm ready to suck it again," Haewon says as she picks up right where she left off. "Let's start with those beautiful balls that gave us that hot cum a bit ago," Haewon says, both girls diving to your sack and licking it gently, their tongues sending shivers down your spine.

Both girls slowly move up, sharing kisses each time they get to your tip, taking turns between bobbing their heads on your cock and worshipping your balls. Bae then licks your shaft while Haewon gets it very wet. "Let me fuck your mouth," you say, grabbing Haewon's head and fucking her face, making her moan as you thrust your cock against her tight throat. "Fuck yeah," you groan as you impale her mouth full of your cock.

Haewon takes on your cock like a champion, barely flinching as her mouth gets stretched. You then turn your attention to Bae, fucking her face even harder as Haewon dives under your body to worship your balls. Bae also takes it very well, deepthroating your cock with ease and giving you an amazing time.

Both girls lick your shaft from the side, then take turns popping it in and out of their mouths. Bae pulls her bra down, you giving her another healthy dose of facefucking before turning your attention to Haewon. You then keep taking turns fucking their mouths, enjoying how they take it with ease, Bae drenching in spit as you pay special attention to her young mouth, shoving your cock balls deep in it until she gags.

The girls move their attention to your tip, licking it hard. "I'm so ready to share this big cock with you," Haewon says to Bae. "Oh yes," Bae answers, the girls worshipping your shaft and licking your tip for a bit until Haewon finally gives the green light.

"I think it's time for you to fuck us," Haewon says, taking her leggings off and showing you her butt plug. You pull Bae's leggings down as she takes her top off, admiring the incredible shape of her ass and her tall, model-esque frame. "She's got a great body, doesn't she?" Haewon asks. "But I'm going to take this cock first," she continues, taking the lead like always.

Haewon spreads her legs and sits on top of your cock, tilting in your direction as you spread her cheeks. "Ohhhh," she moans softly as your cock starts stretching her pussy out. "Hmmm yes, come here," she says, kissing Bae and sucking her tits as she tries to deal with the heat of your cock inside her but never ceasing to bounce on it.

"Fuck, that's amazing," you say to Haewon as she rides your cock nonstop, fingering Bae's pussy while doing so. Bae returns the favor, diving to spread Haewon's cheeks and lick her ass while she rides you. Haewon loves that sexy tongue in her ass, squeezing your cock even harder as she spins all over it, pushing Bae's face against her butthole.

Haewon hands your cock to Bae to suck, giving her friend a healthy dose of juices to taste with just a couple of minutes of riding. Bae takes full advantage of it, deepthroating you like crazy and licking Haewon's holes to make sure nothing is lost. "Wow," you exclaim. "Please put it back," Haewon commands, putting on a show as she rides your cock. "Harder," you tell her, Haewon completely obliterating your cock with her crazy bounces while she enjoys some kisses from Bae.

"Give me that pussy; I want to taste it," Haewon tells Bae, who spreads her legs for her best friend to eat her out. You get truly impressed with Haewon's incredible multitasking, her taking on your cock and Bae's pussy at the same time with ease, sticking her tongue deep in her friend's clit and massaging it hard. "Such a tasty pussy," Haewon says.

You thrust up Haewon's tight pussy as she enjoys having fun with Bae's cunt, making her friend's long legs tremble. "You want to fuck her pussy too?" she asks you. "Oh yes," you answer. Bae quickly gets on all fours, Haewon spreading her cheeks and toying with her friend's butt plug, taking it in and out of Bae's butthole while she spits on it, while also licking the plug to have some taste of her friend's ass.

Haewon prepares Bae wonderfully for you, licking her friend's pussy from top to bottom. "Fuck, that's so good," Bae says as her friend makes her moan. Haewon keeps licking Bae's pussy as you jerk your cock off to the scene. "She's going to be so wet for you," she says.

"I want to see you taking this big fucking cock," Haewon tells Bae. "Can you take it?" she asks her friend. "Of course," Bae answers. "Then let me see it," Haewon commands. You push Bae in your direction, attacking her pussy from the get-go. "FUCK," she screams, Haewon masturbating as she watches you take on her hot friend.

"It's so big," Bae moans as your cock gets deeper in her pussy. "You like it?" Haewon asks her, pushing her friend's head against her pussy and smiling to Bae, who licks her friend's clit as her perky tits bounce with your hard thrusts, you firmly grabbing Bae's ass as she finger-fucks Haewon.

"AHHHHH," Bae moans as Haewon lies on her ass to watch you fuck her friend. You give her a taste of Bae's pussy, pulling your cock out a bit for Haewon to suck. Haewon enjoys it a lot, you fucking her face as she takes on your cock. But soon she'd get things even spicier.

<doggy>

"Wanna try her ass too?" Haewon asks you, removing Bae's butt plug. You can't refuse; Bae's plump butt is incredible, and Haewon spitting on her butthole only makes you wish even more for it. Haewon spreads Bae's cheeks, allowing you to take Bae's ass. "OH FUCK, OH MY GOD," Bae screams, rolling her eyes as your cock goes deep in her ass.

Bae clings to the bedsheets, getting her face down and ass up as Haewon fingers her pussy while you make her cheeks clap. "YEAH, YEAH, AHHHH," the short-haired girl moans, taking a nice pounding in the ass, your balls hitting her cheeks nonstop. Haewon wants a taste and takes your cock in her mouth, massaging Bae's ass while she sucks your cock.

You keep going, pounding Bae's big butt quite well, her tits bouncing harder than ever. "AHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," she continues to moan, Haewon enjoying the cheek-clapping session you deliver to her friend. "I want this too," Haewon says, displacing Bae and taking her butt plug off as she takes your cock in her ass next. "YES, YES, FUCK," she tells you as you grab her ass while she drools on Bae's pussy.

"Gimme, gimme, gimme more," Haewon begs as you tie her arms behind her back as you destroy her ass. Bae plays with her tits as you keep fucking the dark-haired girl. Haewon clings to Bae's clit as you put some nice heat in her ass. "Wanna suck my cock?" you ask Bae, who moves towards you to taste Haewon's dirty ass while Haewon shoves her fingers down her friend's stretched-out anus as you take a break to fuck Bae's pretty face.

Facefucking Bae provides you with the spit you need to keep pounding Haewon's ass. You love the scene you're watching, as Bae's head gets smashed between your body and Haewon's butt, her licking the side of your shaft and her friend's butthole as you penetrate it. "HMMMM, FUCK," Haewon moans, her hands all over her clit as she coats the bedsheets with her juices.

"FUCK, I LOVE IT," Haewon exclaims as you take another break from her asshole to fuck Bae's face. "I want more, please," Haewon says, fisting her asshole, but you seem to be addicted to Bae's face. Eventually you give her what she wants. "OH YEAH," Haewon moans, her ass getting stretched out more than ever, you popping your cock between her ass and Bae's mouth nonstop.

"OHHHHHH," Haewon moans as you continue to fuck her ass, diving to eat more of Bae's pussy as her friend gets back to her vicinity. "Yes, give me that pussy," Haewon says to her. You then give Haewon's ass a tap as you now move towards Bae, pushing her friend to the side as you slowly insert your cock in the short-haired girl's butt in a missionary position.

"Oh yeah," Bae moans as your cock gets deeper in her butt. "Oh, fuck," she continues to moan, rolling her eyes as Haewon fingers her pussy. "Oh yes, fuck," Bae says, looking in Haewon's eyes as they kiss each other, her legs already trembling as your big cock attacks her ass.

"YES, YES, PLEASE," Bae begs for more of your cock in her ass. "You like that?" Haewon asks her. "OH FUCK YES," Bae answers, Haewon increasing the heat in her friend's pussy. "Keep fucking her like that; she loves it," Haewon commands you, Bae quickly turning into a moaning mess.

You tease Bae, getting your cock in and out of her ass. "Stretch it open," Haewon commands, your cock getting deeper and deeper inside Bae. "I love it," Bae says, Haewon kissing her again and enjoying watching her friend get stretched out. Bae smiles at you, loving every second of this assfucking.

"Fuck, it feels so good," Bae moans. "Looks like he's building all the pressure," Haewon says, sensing Bae is on the verge of cumming. "OH YEAHHHH," Bae suddenly screams as her pussy starts to squirt. "Never seen her having such a good anal orgasm; your cock must be feeling very good deep in her ass," Haewon says.

"Give her more, she wants it," Haewon pushes you as Bae turns into a squirting mess. "OH FUCK YESSSS," Bae squirts hard. "Look at you, girl," Haewn says, amazed as she shares more kisses with Bae and licks the juices from her belly. "OH YEAH," Bae keeps moaning, her ass getting well gaped. "Spank me," she begs as you hit her butt, Haewon looking at her friend with sexy eyes.

"He's going really deep, isn't he?" Haewon asks Bae. "FUCK, SO DEEP," Bae screams. "Are you gonna cum again?" Haewon keeps asking. "OH YESSS," Bae answers her, Haewon giving the extra push and fingering her pussy to make Bae cum one more time. "You're all wet, oh my God," Haewon tells her.

You fuck Bae's ass a little bit more under Haewon's watch. "Please, just give it to me, stretch me out, like that," Bae begs. "FUCKKKK," she screams as Haewon makes her squirt one more time. "Keep going," Haewon says, looking at the mess her friend had become.

"I wanna destroy this cock too," Haewon says as you lie in the bed for some rest. Bae teases it, licking Haewon's pussy and pulling the plug Haewon had reinserted. "Open up your butt for this big fat cock," Bae commands as she removes Haewon's butt plug, the two girls licking your shaft a little bit before Haewon gets ready to ride it again.

"I gotta ride it with my ass," Haewon says, teasing as she grinds your cock against her anal entrance before Bae pushes it inside her. "It's really big, stretching your ass," Bae says. "OH FUCK," Haewon moans, you spanking her pale ass from one side and Bae from another.

"Fuck, that's so hot," Bae says as Haewon starts bouncing on your cock in a cowgirl position. "He has a really good cock for your tight ass," Bae says, pushing your shaft up Haewon's ass and massaging your balls as she rides you. "OHHHHH," Haewon moans, twerking hard on your cock. "YES, FUCK, SLAM MY ASS," she begs as Bae continues to spank it.

Haewon quickly finds a good way to bounce on your dick, despite. "YES, FUCK ME, FUCK THAT ASS," she screams, going really hard with her butt-shaking, destroying your cock just like she pledged to. You reach and grope her perky tits. "Oh yeah," she moans. Bae is always by her side, enjoying every second of it.

Bae pulls your cock out of Haewon's ass a bit, enjoying her friend's big gape as it pops out. "Such a nice pink gape," Bae says, teasing Haewon as she rubs the tip of your cock against it. "Yeah, so stretched out," Bae says, spitting in Haewon's butthole before she puts it back for her friend to keep riding it.

"Ride that big fucking cock," Bae commands to Haewon, who keeps bouncing it while your hands are all over her tits. "You like that?" Haewon asks her. "Hell yeah, I fucking love it," Bae answers, smiling as she watches her friend's ass getting impaled by your monster cock. "OHHHH, OHHHH, FUCK," Haewon keeps moaning. "That's so hot," Bae says to her as she keeps spanking her friend's pale ass.

"AHHH, AHHHH, AHHH, OH FUCK," Haewon can't stop screaming, your big fat cock deep in her ass making her lose her breath. "Give me a taste of your ass," Bae says, pulling your cock out and licking it. "Delicious," she says, taking it deep in her mouth while she looks at Haewon's stretched-out gape.

"Let me taste my ass," Haewon tells Bae as she deepthroats your cock while Bae licks your balls, bobbing her head like crazy and spitting all over your cock. "I love how you take it so deep," Bae says, trying to match Haewon as the two switch positions, Haewon giving sensual licks on your shaft. You take advantage of their worshipping and start pounding Bae's face upwards and making her gag.

"Oh yeah, take it," Haewon says to Bae as she watches her friend get her face plowed one more time, giggling. She then bobs her head hard on your cock. "Take it, girl," Bae says to her, but Haewon gives you no chance, taking your cock deep in her mouth like a champ.

"He came in my mouth again," Haewon announces to Bae as both girls worship your shaft, Haewon spitting your cum on it as she and Bae get to clean it off your cock, both girls sharing kisses with your shaft in the middle. Bae takes on your cock, you fucking her face once again as Haewon licks your balls, the two getting your cock throbbing again in a heartbeat with their incredible cock-sucking skills.

"I need it in my ass again," Bae says to Haewon as your cock gets harder than ever. "Then go for it, girl, I wanna see," Haewon tells her, Bae getting on top of your cock in a reverse cowgirl, showing you her beautiful ass as Haewon drives your cock back in her friend's butt. "OH FUCK," Bae moans, getting impaled balls deep and bouncing on your cock with her legs wide open.

"FUCK, THAT'S SO DEEP," Bae screams. "Ohhh, he's wrecking your hole," Haewon says as you start pushing upwards into Bae's butthole. "OH FUCK, YES, YES, YES, FUCK MY ASS," Bae screams, Haewon fingering her pussy from the get-go, making her weak as you thrust hard up Bae's butt, her legs shaking hard. "OHHHHH," Bae continues to scream.

"Put those legs up," Haewon tells Bae as her friend turns into an anal fleshlight for your cock. "OHHH, OHHH, OHHH," Bae screams, her legs shaking as you pump deep in her asshole. "OH FUCK THIS FEELS SO GOOD," Bae says, Haewon rubbing her hands all over her clit. "FUCK YES," Bae continues to scream. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," she keeps going, squirting hard as the heat your cock and Haewon's hands put on her is just too much.

"You're making such a big mess; you just want more and more," Haewon says to Bae as she finally manages to bounce on your cock. "Show me you're ready," Haewon tells her, Bae squatting on your cock as her juices keep leaking out of her pussy. "Deep thrusts, that's what I want to see," Haewon tells her. "OHHHHH," Bae loudly screams, your cock wrecking her ass good.

"Let me see that asshole open," Haewon says to Bae. "Oh my God, he opened you really good," Haewon continues, the two stopping for a little more cock worshipping, Bae savoring her ass to the fullest and even licking your thighs.

Haewon takes your cock back for another ride, this time in reverse. This time, you give her no change, pumping up her ass as soon as she puts it back in her butt. Haewon finger-fucks her cunt as you plow her body, making her tits bounce as Bae's kisses muffle her moans. "HMMM, HMMM, HMMM," Haewon moans, Bae's hands all over her tits.

"OH FUCK YES, OH FUCK ME, FUCK ME FUCK ME," Haewon screams as you pump her ass hard as Bae retaliates by fingering her clit while Haewon gets her cheeks clapped. "OHHHHH," Haewon continues to scream, Bae's long fingers deep in her pussy. Bae pulls your cock out, Haewon fingering her pussy and squirting in her friend's face. "OHHHHH FUCK," she screams, coating Bae with her juices. "You want more?" Haewon asks as Bae cleans her mess up and throats your cock.

"Put that big fat cock back in there," Bae says, you grabbing Haewon's legs and pumping her ass hard, turning the dark-haired girl into a fleshlight. "Oh, fuck yeah," Haewon moans as she gets her ass destroyed, Bae with her hands all over her clit. "My turn," Bae says, shaking her ass and letting you massage her tits as Haewon bobs her head on your cock and prepares it for Bae to ride it like a cowgirl.

Haewon slowly inserts your cock back in Bae's butt, her grinding on your cock as you try to thrust upwards. Haewon massages your balls as you stretch Bae's ass out, using her friend's butt like a pillow as you fuck her ass. Bae and you compete to see who can push it the hardest. "Fuck, this looks so good," Haewon says as she watches it with an incredible view, spreading Bae's ass as she keeps bouncing on your cock.

Bae squats hard on your cock, driving you crazy as her cheeks make loud sounds against her hips. Her soft moans drive you even crazier, you grabbing her waist and slamming her body further down. "AHHHH, AHHH, AHHH," Bae continues to moan. You soon decide to tame her, pounding your cock up her ass as Haewon licks it, enjoying her friend being slammed, popping it out to suck your cock as she enjoys the sizeable gape you left in Bae's butt.

"Fuck her harder," Haewon tells you as you keep attacking Bae's ass, showing no mercy for it. Bae tries to react, bouncing hard on your cock like before, almost snapping it in half, but soon, her fun is over, as you wrap your hand around her waist and start carry-fucking her, moving her body up and down yours while Haewon slides between your legs to lick your balls.

"I'm sorry, I gotta steal him back," Haewon says to Bae as she gets in a spooning position. Haewon giggles as your cock finds her ass again, Bae proving the extra spit she needs as you take it slow this time, the two girls kissing each other as Bae fingers her friend's pussy. "Oh, that's so fucking hot," Haewon says, Bae grabbing her tits now.

"You take it so well," Bae says to Haewon as she lifts her legs. Bae massages Haewon's pussy further, your thrusts getting a little faster as Bae gives Haewon's pussy some little taps. "Oh yeah," Haewon moans, you kissing her as you keep fucking her ass, Bae now diving to lick her pussy and taking some of your shaft in her tongue as a bonus.

"OHHHHH," Haewon moans as you pump her pussy deep. "OH FUCK HE'S DEEP," she screams, Bae increasing the pace of her licking, sending Haewon to the heavens as she's on the verge of cumming. "OH FUCK YEAH, AHHHHH," she screams, her body shaking as she finally blasts a huge gush of juices in her friend's beautiful face, Bae enjoying it and licking it to the fullest. "FUCKKKK, RUB MY CLIT, BABY!" Haewon screams, squirting a couple more times thanks to Bae's licks and rubs.

Haewon and Bae share some kisses before they stack on top of each other, the older girl on top and the younger one at the bottom. Haewon gives Bae's butt a little spit. You have a hard time picking where to start, ultimately going with Bae's plump ass over Haewon's pale butt.

Bae softly moans as Haewon laughs on top of her. "You like this a lot, don't you, slut?" she asks. "Yes, please, stretch my ass, oh my God," she begs. You put Haewon's arms behind her back. "Look at that pretty face," Haewon says, smiling as your cock stabs Bae's butt. "Be a good slut for him," Haewon tells Bae.

"Choke me, baby," Bae tells Haewon, who loves watching her friend being turned into a fucktoy. But soon you take your turn in Haewon's ass too, fucking it at a straight angle as you mount on top of her. "OH FUCK, OH YEAH," Haewon screams as you toy with her monster gape as you pump her ass hard, Bae fisting hers while you entertain yourself with Haewon.

"OH MY GOD, AHHHH" Haewon screams as you make her asshole queef, shaking her little ass. "Want more?" you ask her. "Oh yeah," she answers. "Then take it, slut," you tell her. "OH, OH, OH, OH YEAH," Haewon moans. "Yeah, destroy her," Bae tells you, enjoying her friend getting stretched out to the fullest by your big, fat cock and screaming louder than during an album recording.

"OHHHHHH FUCKKKK," Haewon turns into a screaming mess as you leave your mark in her ass before switching back to Bae, who promptly spreads her cheeks. "Oh yeah, stretch my ass," Bae begs as you pound her. Haewon kissing her neck. "AH, AH, AH," she moans. You switch back and forth between both girls asses, enjoying making them fully stretched out.

"OH MY GOD, YOUR COCK IS SO BIG," Bae screams, her legs shaking as your cock gets ready to give her another anal orgasm. Haewon takes it next, you grabbing her butt and spanking her pale ass as you thrust hard and deep inside her, making her perky boobs bounce on top of Bae as the two girls share kisses.

"I just can't get enough of watching you take this dick," Haewon tells Bae. "And I can't get enough of this dick," Bae answers. You put Bae back in a missionary position, Haewon getting in on the side to finger her pussy and spread her friend's cheeks. "Look how wide open she is," Haewon says.

"Can I cum in your ass?" you politely ask Bae. "Yes, please, fill me up," she promptly answers. Haewon smiles, ready to watch Bae's stretched-out butthole get filled to the brim, getting close as you thrust deep in Bae's ass. "OH FUCK," Bae screams. "Give it to her," Haewon commands.

"Are you ready to cum again?" Haewon asks you. "Fuck, I'm cumming," you tell her, Bae's sexy moans providing the last push as you cover her anal cavity with your seeds. Haewon immediately scoops your cum out as it leaks into the bedsheet, kissing your cock before putting it in her mouth. "Give me a taste too," Bae begs, Haewon swapping it with her with some sexy kisses.

"You're a good girl," Haewon says to Bae. "That was surely a good walk in the park, unnie," Bae answers as the two keep sharing kisses and then take some time to relax at the dorms while you get yourself dressed and leave.

Haewon and Bae stay for a while at the older girl's dorms until they hear some noises coming from Sullyoon's and Jiwoo's room. They decide to check what is happening, getting greeted by the noise of a tall young girl doing naughty things.

"FUCK, DADDY, FILL MY PUSSY UP," it's Sullyoon, screaming to the top of her lungs as she bounces on your cock, Jiwoo there as well as you eat her out, Haewon and Bae coming out just as you unload inside YoonA's tight, meaty pussy.

"Looks like you already found more girls to have fun with," Haewon says to you.

"We should call Lily and Kyujin too. I think she can take us all," Bae says.

"Let's go, bring them in," Haewon commands, ready to start a big orgy at the Nmixx dorms.

[nemesyaaa]

buffalo 66' au ! old!serial killer!rafe x young!sugardoll!reader (how they met, and their first night together.)

you were red and you liked me 'cause i was blue. but you touched me and suddenly i was a lilac sky.

warnings : lmfaooo this part always killing me but here it is....rafe being 90% of the warning part and the menace he already is, kidnapping, daddy issues, urge of sexualing your own self, slight of stockholm syndrome, dubcon, smut, dark!rafe, violence, mentions of threats, r being a missing girl, age gap, size difference, choking. rafe being mean to the reader. slight of daddy kink. sick attitude. dirty talk. attention whore. just minors DNI. (why it's bigger than my grocery list actually...). please carefully pay attention to the tags !!?

author's note : it's my first time writing a dark fic so don't expect too much 🙏🏿 you can read this without watching buffalo 66.

some girls were the trailer park princess, and others the queen of the gas station.

as the girl of the gas station, you were there all day on the road of these men much older than you, who had and drove pretty vintage cars who were literally bigger than you. those rich daddies surely had more money than your poor father who was always sitting behind the desk of his shop waiting for the night.

your father never gave you any attention, not even a look, he didn't care about what you did on your summer days as long as he never saw you. so you stayed all day at your playground queendom across from the pitiful, filthy motel where you lived. because here at least the men were looking at you.

of course they were looking at you, you always gave them something to look at with your tiny dresses that showed your naked thighs, your tits pressed together in that backless top. you always dressed in that soft and milky blue shades. as the sea and the sky, you were blue.

while their wives found you sick, you could feel their stares every time you leaned down to grab the keys that they forgot to give you each time. you could feel their eyes completely charmed by the way your summer dress rode up above your ass, and your panties stuck out.

fully bent over, you could hear the groans of these old men, the way they forced their hands themselves to not touch you when you wanted nothing more than to see them give in to the young temptation that you were.

you had a power in them and you loved to see them completely crazy.

you worked as a gas pump attendant. in reality, you did it behind your father's back because it allowed you to stay in the company of these men who only had eyes for you.

you always put on a show for them, and it always worked because you were irresistible.

but there was this guy every time, a regular customer, cold and short-spoken who never spoke to you.

he had a beautiful and luxurious car and you always wondered what job he did to drive such an incredible vehicle, and to spoil you so much with all this money.

he never said thank you for your service. after all, you were paid for it. his eyes were blue as you. he could park and glare at you for hours, sitting deep in his seat, a cigarette stuck between his opened lips.

he was so much older than you, so much to the point it was indecent. when you had first seen him, you had melted like sugar.

as you were coming back from the ice cream parlor, your lips sucking that delicious vanilla ice cream, you sat on the edge of the gas station, right in front of his car, your legs completely spread, white cream melting and dripping between your thighs. he rubbed his painful boner through his boxer.

you were sick, you let him look at you with this completely perverted stare while you let chunks of ice fall into your cleavage.

his eyes were all over you, but this time it was different, because this time it was him who was thinking about you while touching himself. this time it was him who was sick about you , him who had all these furious ideas about you. he pumped himself so hard, biting his lips harshly. and you continued your depraved show, while he jerked off, his big cock shaked and leaked in his own hand, his thick and already experimented fingers moved around his length faster and faster, the sweaty and dirty sound of his balls slapping, the squeaking noises of his chair, his arched back making the chair shaking. you thought of the veins of his dick engorged of blood pulsated against his hefty strength. that was enough to make you fully wet.

you wanted nothing more than to make this old man reach for you. but the problem was, you were too young and naive to know how mad he was, and what he really wanted to do with a pretty doll like you.

you stood up when you finished your ice cream, putting your dress back on neatly, and leaned down, leaning your porcelain princess arms over his car window.

you shuddered when he spread his cum on your face without any warning, smeared the remains of vanilla ice cream over your sloppy lips gloss with lick of drool.

he pushed his big thumb against your little mouth, pushed it into an o shape, and you closed her to start licking up the drops of his cum.

but like every time he came here, he never spoke to you. you had just seen the car leave, while you still had the taste of him on your lips. it was rude.

the next day, your father sent you out to do some groceries on a sweltering hot summer day, tired of seeing you around doing nothing. what he didn’t know was that this was probably the last time he saw you. and even shoupe that you had seen earlier in the morning, and who had told you to be careful, something with a killer around.

when you were done with the grocery, you started walking through the empty parking lot.

you thought you were alone, even though there were a few empty cars.

but it was a mistake, a terrible mistake that you were going to regret.

“didn't shoupe tell you to be careful this morning, sweetheart ? because i'm pretty sure, he did. ”

you screamed when the man grabbed you by the waist, pressing your little ragdoll body against his chest much stronger. the stranger quickly covered your mouth, and bruised your pretty lips with violence without any caring, shoved down his fingers between them to the point that you almost choked with your own breath and saliva.

“ you hurt..me…! ” you tried to say with a lot of difficulty, as his firm grip crushed against your breasts.

“ not yet actually, doll. but i promise, i will if you continue to fight. so beware, or i will fucking kill you. not a threat, sweetheart. it's a promise. “ and you knew that even god couldn't save you at this time.

you tried to bite him, but your teeth barely touched his skin. his lips hovered above your ear, you could hear his deep older voice warned you.

" bite me one more time, and i will break you. i love wrestle with you little girl, but i think you will really hate the way i fight. because when daddy fight sugardoll, he kills. and tiny things like you are so easy to wreck. and you dont want to die today, right ? you're too young for that. do you got it ? nod if you got it, yes. smart baby, understand easily that she needs to listen and not fucking run away. ”

his strength was heavy. you had stopped resisting a few minutes ago, even when he put you in his car.

he started driving, with a smirk, he looked in the rearview mirror before telling you.

“ what's the matter, sugardoll ? don't want to put a show for me, anymore ? ”

he had taken you to a shitty old motel down the road, where no one would be able to pick you up here. you knew he was intelligent, you knew it because you understood that every time he came to see you, he tried to learn more about you, but not to know you no, but to know when would be the right time to kidnap you. you knew it because he had stalked you carefully.

he had tried to tie you up while you tried to struggle one last time. but he had grabbed your jaw so violently that you felt your face shiver in his hands. “one more move, and i’ll show you how dolls are really treated, how i have no fucking bother to kill a tiny thing like you. ”

“i’m not going to run away.”

"i know.” he shushed you with a sick evil smirk. “ but it's not because you don't want to, sugardoll .but more because you can't.” he said, while releasing your jaw.

“ that's the small but important difference. i kidnapped you. do you even know what it means ? "

you started to cry, tears running down your cheeks.

“ you want a real reason to cry? fine. i can do that for you. i kidnapped you but you want to know the big part of all this? is that no one will come for you. your father doesn't love you , and that's why you work in this stupid gas station. you love the attention of these men so bad that you feel obliged to sexualize yourself to feel desired but me, i wanted you the first time i saw you. i let you do it, i let you play with them, but now it's all over. since i own you, this game is fucking over. ”

“shoupe will come after me ! ”

“but maybe you won’t be around to see it anymore.” he looked at you, and shushed your tears, while staring in your wet eyes. “ yes, i really like when you give me those tears, cry to me, little girl i'm the only men that really got you. ”

you glared at him as if he had fallen from the sky.

“ but now you have to be careful, don’t get on my nerves. i know it's hard for you, but don't do stupid things. ”

he placed your hand on his lower back, where you had felt the metallic coldness of the gun. and you shivered.

"yes, you got it. don't ever get on my nerves.”

“ how can i get on your nerves ? you don't really seems like a bad guy. more like a sweet guy ? ”

“ i'm not. and i'm not trying to be so watch your mouth. “

“ but i really think you are. can i hug you ? ”

“ try it, doll, literally try it. just try to touch me, i dare you. and i bet you will never tell me i'm the sweetest guy again. ”

“ can you at least bathe me ? ” you asked seriously.

“ jesus, do you think i'm your slave or whatever ? do you forget which position you are in ? in the captive one. so do not ask me those stupid things again. and don't try, no, never try to run away because, i can promise you that when i will find you, it will not be a pleasant time for you. and not even a little, but to the point, you will ask me to kill you. and i will be in a mood to accept your request ? yes, me. ”

you nodded as the kind and little girl you are who cannot argue against this tall man. he released your small face, and you were bathing alone. while you were taking your bath, alone in the tub, you heard rafe on the phone without being able to understand what he was saying but after that call, he left the room.

you had decided to buy some food with the little money you had at the food and drink vending machine.

with a happy smile, you went back up, hoping to please him. but you had found him on the chair in front of the TV.

“look, what…”

“i think you’re really nice. but not at your own good, sugar. ”

“ i just wan…”

“ get on the bed, now. ”

he couldn't help but relaxing when he saw how your blue dress was so tiny, already showing your soaked underwear.

" no whining. " he said as he shoved himself deeply in your tight abused cunt, your ragdoll body pressed down in the mattress, his thick stronger arms hugged your small waist, while thrusting harder and harder, your walls clenched around his fat cock. you can felt the size growing bigger in your wettering pussy, as he turned you into a real crybaby, tears flowing down your cheeks. you were caged by his beefy and muscular body on the bed, gasped on the edge. “ you wanted to act like a big girl ? then take it like a big girl. no fucking whining, i'm just giving you what you want. ”

he was literally buried inside you, snapping your hips, moving in and out. the atmosphere was hot, you felt the heat, there were trails of saliva around your mouth. “stop whining babydoll, daddy is not at his worse actually. and you don't want to see this happen.” you wanted to hate him but it was like you appreciated him being so mean to you, your pussy was dripping, your fluids drenching him, your sticky walls surrounded his girth. " yes, that's it. pull up some juices for daddy, make it easier for him to destroy you. "

everytime you runned away from him, he lifted your head with a grunt, and with a wild thrust inside of you, making you drip even more as his glistening tip reached your spot, the dirty and wetness sound of his moves echoed in the room, your body trapped against his taller one.

with a hand on your throat, you were arched to the point where he could see your wetted eyes rolled up. "try to run away again, and you will have the fucking pleasure to be a momma, as well as a missing girl. i'm not asking you to take my cock better.” he said with a threat. “ no, i'm telling you to do it as your fucking job. ”

all teary, you could bet that rafe didn't know how big he was for telling you this. you were trying your best actually. he was rutting in you, holding your tiny size with one big hand, getting so feral everytime he saw your small body twitching when he pushed himself further. your moans were loud, as your squirted more than one time on him, your dripping walls clamped his hard cock. even when your third orgasm flowed against your bulging pussy, creating a mess at the surface, he continued.

" you know sugardoll, you better work faster for my cum, because i will only stop when i will see how creampie your pussy is for my dick.”

he stuffed your puffy messy cunt, while your pumped his fingers who slidded deep down in your throat, your warm and bullied tongue fighting to not dropped them.

you slobbed more with the overstimulation. you felt like this man was insatiable. rafe loved to see you, his sugardoll in pain, taking so much for him.

when he finally stopped teasing you, and fighting himself to not cum, and clearly toying you, he exploded, making you cried out. all your body was filled with spasms.

you expected something from rafe when he pulled out, a little soft spot, or at least, just one look but he just went to the bathroom. alone.

you expected him to be sweet for you, like the sugar you were for him. and you knew, that you will work for this later.

when he came back, you looked at him, always attracted by his charisma, the way he made you felt so tiny by his big size, the way he was old enough to make you feel like a little girl, just the way his raised voice made you feel so small.

“ can i sleep with you ? ”

“ whatever. just don't touch me. ”

“ you're not gonna be my big spoon ? “

“ what the fuck is this ? i'm not gonna be your spoon. jesus, can you just sleep and not ask for any stupid things that you think i will do because you're already so obsessed with me ? and give me your hands. ”

he tied them up on the bed with your little blue ribbon.

“ just in case you think you can escape me. ”

“ i can't sleep like that ! ”

“ i fear it's not my fucking problem, sugardoll.”

“ fine. i will talk and talk all night. ”

“ i can fuck you all the night too. but one of us will not survive this. so stop being so damn annoying. ”

“ what if i want to pee in the middle of the night ? ”

“ you're strong enough to hold it. and you fucking better be strong enough to hold it. ”

“ why are you so mean to me ? why you kidnapped me ? ”

“ sugardoll, listen to me. look at me, yes. eyes on daddy right now. i swear, and you need to listen carefully because i will tell you once, just once, so your dumby brain need to pay attention, if you're talking another time, even if i see your lips moving, just a twitch, i will put my dick right in your mouth, making you suck it for without a break until the sun rises again. and i can promise you that after, you will never talk to me because you will never be able to open that mouth again. do you got it ? nod your head if you got it, doll.”

and you nodded.

as a doll, you were conditionned to listen to your owner, even if he was so mean to you. but you were as soft as sugar, always melted around, already thinking he was the best guy around.

“ sweet dreams, sugardoll. ”

i promise one day i will write something very good, just give me a chance. i think the only sweet thing in this work, it's rafe calling r " sugardoll ", he's so mean please 😭😭 i think i make him a little too dark to the point, i'm questionning about how he can be sweet to the reader now ????? but i guess, it's part of the game. tysm @bunnyrafe and @fae-of-prey me a lot !

[bullet-prooflove]

The Asshole King: Jack Abbott x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @gabsgabsvaz @yousigned-upforthis @flyinglama @cosmic-psychickitty

Companion piece to:

Masochist

Seven Shades of Fucked Up (NSFW)

Meeting you was the best thing that could ever happen to Jack, he fully acknowledges that as he watches you potter about the kitchen in a Stevie Nicks t-shirt that barely covers your ass and black panties. You have Rhiannon playing on the vinyl player in the living room, the sound from the LP serenading the two of you as he sits at the kitchen table sipping decaf tea.

Before you everything was a vacuum, a slow empty death. There was no joy in his life, no heart, just the relentlessness of living in a world that lacked saturation and colour. Now he wakes up to this every day, a wife that sprinkles kisses on his face before she puts on a Fleetwood Mac record and dances around the kitchen as she makes her to do list.

The thing he loves the most about you is the fact you don’t let anything dim that light. You see the worst of humanity in your work as a psychiatrist. The broken, the damaged and sometimes the irredeemable and you handle it with a sense of grace and calm that’s truly remarkable, even if your methods aren’t exactly conventional.

He’s talking about the singing, the way you get your patients to calm down when they’re in a heightened state by using music therapy.

One of the first things people experiencing anxiety are advised to do is to breathe slowly however telling someone that usually has the opposite effect because they hone in on the fact they’re not getting enough oxygen.

That’s where singing comes in.

It’s a form of regular, controlled breathing that stimulates the parasympathetic nervous system. Focusing on the lyrics distracts patients from catastrophising, lowering their blood pressure and improving pain management.

 The first time he heard about it from Dana, he called bullshit but then he’d seen you in action in The Pitt when a vet presenting with complex PTSD was brought in, panic stricken and injured. They couldn’t calm him down and were discussing sticking him when you’d snapped on your gloves and instead of verbally manhandling him you’d taken your phone out and asked him his music preferences.

Country, he’d told you his entire body vibrating with terror.

It had taken three songs to calm him down, Jack had literally watched the tension melt from his body as you sing along with the lyrics, pretending to check vitals while encouraging him to do the same. By the time you got through Kenny Chesney’s American Kids a med student was already in the process of stitching up the 6 inch gash in his leg from the cycling accident that brought him to The Pitt in the first place.

“He spend two months in a military infirmary in Basrah.” You tell Jack in the aftermath as you fill out the discharge paperwork. “Being here took him there, which was why he was reacting so badly.”

Jack gets it, he’d worked in a dozen of those places over his years in the military and they’re not for the faint of heart.

“You are not a real person.” He’d responded, shaking his head. “You’re a fucking Disney Princess thrust into the middle of a hellhole.”

“And you’re the asshole king of said hellhole.” You’d reminded him gesturing at the chaos around you. “You know where to find me if anyone else gets too rowdy.”

He does find you, unintentionally at the end of his shift waiting for an Uber because your car’s in the shop for the third time in three months.

“Come on Cinderella.” He’d sighed because at this time of day surge charges will be through the roof. “I’ll give you a ride.”

He doesn’t make it home that until a couple of hours before his next shift because the two of you get talking about your record collection in the car. You have a rare Bob Dylan bootleg your father gave to you before he passed away and Jack, he’s been in love with that man’s music since he saw him play Nashville in the 90s. He spends the morning in your armchair, listening to the bootleg with headphones that remind him of the ones you used to get in the listening booths of those vintage record shops before they all closed down.

He jerks awake up in the early hours of the afternoon to find a blanket tucked around him and the headphones resting on the cabinet where the vinyl player resides. His gaze comes to linger on you, asleep on the couch, the book you were reading resting underneath your palm. He raises to his feet, draping the blanket over you and you mumble into the cushion, settling deeper.

“It’s alright Sleeping Beauty, it’s just me, the asshole king.” He murmurs as he picks up the book and sets it on the coffee table. “I’m gonna let myself out, let you get some rest.”

You don’t respond and he doesn’t expect you to. He’s an insomniac at heart, he hasn’t slept a full eight hours since his first tour abroad and you’re normal, so wonderfully fucking normal it hurts his heart.

It’s when he steps outside into the sun that he realises somethings changed. The world seems a little brighter and he knows that that’s because of you, you and that bootleg copy of Bob Dylan.

When you start your shift that evening you find a gift at your work station up in Psych. A glossy black bag from one of the last vinyl places in Pittsburgh. You smile as you remove the sleeve from the packaging.  

It’s a Fleetwood Mac album, one you’ve been trying to track down for a couple of years. There’s a yellow post it stuck to front, written in an unfamiliar hand.

Noticed this was missing from your collection.

- The Asshole King

That vinyl, it’s the start of something wonderful, something he never saw coming.

“You wanna do laundry or groceries?” You ask him drawing Jack back to the present as you bend over the counter, filling out your to do list. He shifts in his seat at the kitchen table, his toast forgotten as his gaze fixates on the way your ass looks in those black cotton panties.

You’ve been married three years now and he still can’t believe that this is his life.

Fleetwood Mac, he thinks as the record switches to Say That You Love Me, I owe you the fucking world.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[heart2sea]

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ do you see (him) in the back of your mind? (read on ao3)

word count: 2k

tags: fluff, angst if you squint, mentions of his myth, dragon!sylus mentions

summary: on a particular day, you kept dreaming of him. One of those dreams catches your attention—horns, tails and all, and you decide to tell him.

a/n: some practice sylus writing because he's my second fav 🖤

You kept staring at him unabashedly, entranced.

He found that behavior amusing, finding and matching your gaze with an insufferable amount of mirth in his eyes. A teasing remark, a half grin on his lips—anything to get a blush out of you. That time, however, his words turned to mist on your brain as you took him in. You knew him well; the way his eyes glimmered under the moonlight, how his lips savoured every drop of his drink, as if trying to classify each note of flavor of it, and even the way his hair moved with the cold breeze. Sometimes you’d run a gentle finger, making way through the handsome shape of his nose, only stopping when he’d let out a scoff and grab your wrist, playfully.

“What are you doing, sweetie?” He stared back, a smirk gracing his sharp features.

You blinked, resting your head on your hand. You had agreed to have dinner (breakfast, for him) on his base before heading out for one of your assignments. This particular mission required pulling an all-nighter onto the outskirts of the N109 Zone. You didn’t particularly need to convince him, he just shrugged and nodded as if you’d asked him to go get something for you at the corner store, a small, non-inconvenient errand on his criminal routine. 

So you spent the entire daylight sleeping, trying to catch up on some required rest before going into battle. Sleeping during daytime usually meant naps, which is why you had a hard time staying asleep, waking up between forty minute intervals.

Each time, a stranger dream.

It had started with a regular one, just you and Sylus going auctioning. Then, fleeting dreams that resembled your first meetings, the oppressive force of the gunshot piercing his heart, his rough hand grasping your wrist like his life depended on it, forceful mannerisms that had quite actually scared you away from him, enticing you into running away and never looking back. 

And finally, a dream so foreign and out of place it took you a minute to break the barrier between dreams and reality upon waking up. How imposing, how impossibly handsome; your Sylus, tall and intimidating, sporting two wonderful spires on his head, and a long, thick, slithering barbed tail from his lower back. Scales had adorned his entire body, ebony and rough, and a single ruby emanated glow and warmth from his sternum, at the rhythm of a living heartbeat. His face was covered in blood—not yours, not his—as he stared at the glowing moon in longing and awe.

And still, in this dream, his eyes turned soft at the sight of you.

You gave him a warm smile, now back to reality to the real Sylus in front of you. “I dreamed about you earlier.”

He returned the smile, a glint of something playful and kind in his crimson eyes. “Was it a good dream?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, pondering. “It was quite the sight.”

“Tell me.”

“You’d laugh.”

He shifted on his seat, putting the fork down as he took a breath. Sylus tilted his head, the smile never wiping off his face, the now dying candlelight casting a warm, soft glow around you. “Oh?” 

You immediately shook your head, a slight blush adorning your cheeks, frowning. “Not like that. Ugh.” At least not this time.

The gentle sound of one of his classical vinyls cocooned the warm atmosphere of his dinner table, the melody one you had picked out a few weeks before, shopping with him. It was so effortlessly romantic, soft and tender—truth be told, so many dinners with Sylus were like that, and you started wondering how truly effortless or accidental it all was. It seemed so specifically tailored for you; the music, the special serving of food just for you, the way the moonlight would hit the table just right, the smooth silk tablecloths, the comfy cushions on the seats; it all screamed soft, soft, soft , as if he was self conscious you'd walk away again the moment you cut yourself on his edges. You'd grown to love him, gunshot powder and all, but something laid unspoken between you two. Something both of you should be aware of, but only him seemed to carry the weight of.

It stumped you.

Sylus let out a chuckle. “Well, then. I promise to be as straight faced as possible, kitten.”

“Not very comforting.”

He shrugged. “I'm simply doing my best.”

You inhaled, trying to recall more details about the dream. You grabbed a grape, placing it on your lips, letting it linger there for a moment before slowly biting down on it, staring into space. As you swallowed, you looked up briefly at the ceiling and finally spoke.

“ If you randomly woke up as an animal, real or fantastic—and don't say a crow—what animal do you think it would most likely be?”

One of his eyebrows raised in amusement, his smirk deepening. The candle was holding onto the last thread of light, the amber light surrounding the room slowly giving out. It gave the atmosphere an enigmatic mood, making the situation seem so serious it was silly. “Does that have to do with your dream?"

You rolled your eyes. “Just follow along.”

His gaze never left yours, carefully studying your expectant expression. He took out a casino chip out of his slacks and started playing with it, a fidgeting you immediately recognized as calculating and weighting every option on his mind, you realized he was holding back on answering what was truly on his head. 

You looked around the room, almost awkwardly, as the silence stretched on. “Hello?”

Sylus finally let out a scoff. “I'm more interested in what you thi—”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“What? I'm telling the truth. Besides,” he leaned towards you ever-so-slightly. “I'm curious what brought this on.”

The candlelight went off completely, the only source of light being the moon gently cascading its glow on the room. You went to grab another grape, but stopped halfway through. Despite his aloof and seemingly playful behavior, you couldn't help but feel as if that question had held some unspoken weight on him. 

You laid back completely on the chair, staring out at the moon. “I had a dream you were some kind of creature. Horns, tail, scales—no wings that I remember, though. It was incredibly detailed. You looked like a dragon.” You took a deep breath, and almost whispering, still daydreaming about the mental image, you spoke: “It suit you.”

He didn't reply, not immediately, the chip on his hand ceasing its movements for a moment. A brief hesitation, a glimmer of something in his eyes (melancholy? Nostalgia?) flashed, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a half smile. He put the chip down and slid it towards you, taking a deep breath, beckoning you to keep going.

“We rested in a cave. Just like now, we were staring at the moon, and your tail—” You giggled fondly. “It was wrapped around me. Not asphyxiating me, mind you, but gently. And warm. It felt so real.”

You paused, and then continued.

“I wonder if that was some sort of…past life, or something.”

The room was completely darkened, and he had moved away from the glow of the moonlight, making it difficult to figure out what he was thinking. As the silence stretched on, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious — you'd half expected him to let out one of his earthy laughs upon hearing it. How cliché, how passè, the classical bedtime story of the beauty and her beast, deeply in love in his lair, a wonderful ever after following trials of blood and fire to be together. You've been watching too many romantic movies lately, sweetie , was the reply you expected him to blurt out, and then you'd pout, and finally go out to your mission and fight wanderers until the sun rose.

But he seemed to savor the recounting of your dream, as if taking apart thread by thread the tapestry of your words. You wondered what expression he had at that moment. Maybe he was coming out with a witty retort, something you've never heard before, or maybe he was annoyed at the prospect of him being a beast in the dream (when he'd been nothing but gentle with you lately), or maybe—

He let out a gentle chuckle, forcing you out of your thoughts. You stared at him, trying to find his eyes, until you met with a slightly glowing crimson gaze in the dark. A sign of danger, a pair of red eyes in the abyss—but they held none of the teeth that would swallow you whole. Instead, it enveloped you in a warmth that reminded you of cozy winter dawns, of summer nights, of a hot cup of tea after a draining day. 

How wonderful.

Sylus shifted on his seat. “Did something else happen in that dream?”

“Such as…?”

“We’ve watched one too many dramatic movies lately. Surely this one dream doesn't end in tragedy, likewise?”

You tutted, blushing, muttering. “Isn't the prospect of us cuddling under the moonlight enough for you?”

“With a monster —”

“A very handsome one.” You interjected. “And he is nothing but gentle with me.”

A pause of silence. Then, after staring deep into your eyes, as if attempting to break open your mind and peer into your jumbled thoughts, he let out a warm, almost elated laugh. 

“You do…have a fascinating way to look at things.” He spoke.

As if wanting to emphasize your earlier point, you stood up from the table and carefully walked towards him, two dinner knives in hand, and positioned yourself behind him. On the other side of the room, a body length mirror stood guard to the dark outlines of your bodies contrasting in the gentle glow of the moon.

The knives reflected the silvery light almost magically as you held them up the sides of his head in a horned fashion, a playful yet tender smile adorning your lips.

“You looked something like this.” You whispered, staring into the mirror. If you squinted hard enough, his silhouette looked very similar to the Sylus that had graced your dreams. “See? It looks good. It does suit you.”

He chuckled, his voice laced with something raw and unspoken. He gently grabbed your wrist, enveloping his calloused fingers around your soft flesh, as if counting every pulse under it. His digits interlaced with yours and he maneuvered you until you were at his side—then, he slid an arm around your waist and pressed you closer to him, his face burying on your sternum, something resembling a purr coming out of his throat. It made you freeze for a single second, the movement and the warmth so eerily similar to the one provided by his tail in your dream you wondered if you'd truly been the only one to dream about it.

“No tail. Is that alright?” He muttered, his voice muffled by your shirt. 

You shrugged. “Warm all the same.”

Something inside him opened at the sound of your words, and he let out a content, satisfied sigh. You could feel him smile against the fabric of your clothes, and under normal circumstances you'd tease him about it. Yet this time, he felt oddly vulnerable—like a cat bunting a beloved; it was not the time. You couldn't rob him of that.

“Let's go.” He broke the moment, pulling away. “It's getting late.”

He stood up, his arm leaving your waist—lingering for a fraction of a second, not truly wanting to pull away—and walked to the doorway with languid steps, taking his coat from the hanger.

“Does that mean I can call you that now?” You asked grabbing a last grape out of the fruitbowl.

“What was that now, kitten?”

“Dragon.” You smiled mischievously. “My dragon.”

He turned around, briefly speechless, and for a moment you feared you'd said something wrong—maybe he hated the nickname, or thought it was too silly, or preferred something else. But then his lips curved upwards, his gaze impossibly soft and cozy.

“If it's from you,” he reached for the motorcycle helmet and tossed it at you. “Any time.”

[naburi]

FREAKY FRIDAY

SOMI X READER - FT. CHAEYOUNG

TAGS: BODY SWAPPING

2.1K WORDS

“Let’s go to my place” you asked your girlfriend after your anniversary date. You give her a playful smile, hinting what you really meant. Chaeyoung who switched bodies with Somi panics. “I-I’ll ask Somi first,” Chaeyoung said. “What?” Your reaction made Chaeyoung realize her mistake. “I need to go to the restroom” she is in a hurry to call her bestfriend. “Somi! Can I spend the night with your boyfriend?”

“What do you mean?” Somi acts confused even though she knows where this will lead. “He asked if we could go to his place,” Chaeyoung explained. Somi took a moment to respond. She does not like the idea that her best friend could have sex with her boyfriend, even if she’s using her body. But it’s your anniversary, it feels wrong to deprive her boyfriend of a great night. “J-just still act like you’re me,” Somi says. “No! No! I would feel guilty!” Chaeyoung does not like the plan. “You’re still in my body, stupid!” Somi mocks Chaeyoung’s moral compass.

Chaeyoung slowly walks back to your table. “Let’s go,” she said. Walking home, she doesn’t know how her bestfriend acts with her boyfriend. “Is Somi clingy like me? A question echoes through her mind. You are walking beside her, feeling puzzled by your girlfriend’s behavior. Her mind seems off to somewhere and not with you. “Is something wrong?” You asked your girlfriend, wanting to know what’s in her mind. Chaeyoung realized that she can’t go on like this. She needs to act like she is the real Somi. She hugs your arm while still walking. “Nothing, just work stuff,” she said in a cutesy tone.

Your girlfriend didn’t act like this before. She would just hold your hand while walking or whenever you are in public. She also doesn’t change her voice to act cute to you. She may act strange but you can’t say you didn’t like this change in her behavior. You open the door in your apartment. Chaeyoung looks around the room, this is her first time in here. “Look how clean my room is!” You boast to her. Some always criticized how messy your place is but you put the effort into cleaning it for your anniversary. “Good to know! It’s not a mess in here anymore,” Chaeyoung put it together, even though she got criticized by Somi before due to the same thing.

“I really like your boobs, I wish I could have a busty body like you,” Chaeyoung said while looking at their photos from a photo booth. Somi has a great curve from her nice boobs and fat ass that compliments her tall frame. “What! I wish to have a petite body like you!” Somi blurted out. She admires how alluring Chaeyoung’s petite body is. The two continue to exchange compliments while sitting in a Chinese restaurant, not knowing their life will change due to their desires. The two girls head to Somi’s flat. Chaeyoung has been a regular in her place where she now has a dedicated closet to leave her clothes. The two share a conversation in bed until they both sleep the night away.

A sunlight that slips past the curtains woke Chaeyoung first. She looks at the other girl who has her back turned on her. Checking her phone, it’s already 8 am. Slowly standing up, Chaeyoung goes to the restroom half awake. She’s sitting in the toilet, looking down on her seemingly long legs. She didn’t notice her now longer limbs. Standing up to wash her face. She saw Somi in the reflection. “Oh you’re also awake” she said. Chaeyoung looks confused that she can’t see her face in the mirror. She thought that it's just probably that she’s still half awake. She washes her face with water to wake up her senses. She can still only see Somi in the reflection but now has a wet face. Chaeyoung shouts in shock at what's happening.

Somi got woken up by the loud scream of the short girl. She sat up at the bed, demanding an explanation with the early commotion. She saw her body standing just outside of the restroom door. Chaeyoung finally saw her body which was still in the bed. Somi even screams louder in shock. Somi walks fast toward her body. The two look flabbergasted while looking at their own faces. “Is that you, Chaeyoung?” Somi asked while holding her own face. “Yes I am, you’re Somi right?” She said while holding her body. The two instinctive look in the mirror to have a better sense of what’s happening. “You’re in my body” Somi finally concluded. “Did we switch bodies?” Chaeyoung added.

You guided Chaeyoung in the living area. The two of you sit on the couch with the sexual tension growing by the second. “I’m in Somi’s body so it’s okay,” Chaeyoung repeats the phrase in her head, convincing herself that this is okay. She also reminded herself that she is not new to hooking up with strangers. She should treat this situation like just a regular hook up. You noticed that your girlfriend is finally at ease. You hold her cheeks to turn her face towards you. You lean slowly for a kiss which Chaeyoung reciprocates. The two of you exchange slow kisses until both tongues join. You felt the familiar lips of Somi but something is different. Her kisses are more passionate, she’s not waiting for you to initiate, she’s the one inviting you to more kisses. You wonder where your girlfriend learned this. It creeps to your mind that she might be cheating but you know her well. She may have learned this with her friends as she shares to you the things her friends told her about their sexual awakenings.

Chaeyoung leans her body more towards you causing you to lay down on the couch. She positions Somi’s hips directly on top of your forming bulge. Somi hasn’t done this before. Your girlfriend usually pulls you on top, wanting you to press your body onto her. Somi lets you dominate her but tonight is a different case. Somi’s hand finds your face, holding it to kiss you deeper. Somi’s tongue slithered deep in your mouth, intertwining your tongue. Somi also never used this much tongue before in her kisses. She is more of a lip kiss person. She loves the feeling of both of your lips sucking one another even biting your lower lip occasionally.

Chaeyoung pulls away from a kiss with a bough of your mouth are a wet mess. Chaeyoung got turned on by the sloppy makeout session, brushing aside that she’s still in Somi’s body. Chaeyoung moves down to your legs until she finds herself in between them. Somi’s hands touch your legs over your pants, slowly creeping towards your visible big bulge. You want to help her out by removing your pants by yourself but she taps your hands away. Chaeyoung notices that your cock might be bigger than most people based on the huge bulge on your pants. Somi’s tongue slowly licks the huge bulge. You may not feel much as you still have your pants but the erotic scene that you just saw is more than enough to increase your libido. Chaeyoung felt your hard cock pulsating under your pants. Somi smirks as she feels validated on how hard cock is now. Somi’s hand reached into your pants unbuttoning it while her teeth found your zipper pulling it down to reveal your stretch underwear.

She can’t help but to fantasize about how big your cock really is. She uses Somi’s mouth again to pull down your underwear. Your huge fat cock springs up to slap her face. She remembers Somi telling her that you are also half western - half Asian like her. Somi also said that you might not look like one but you definitely are in the right “parts.” Your huge fat cock almost covers half of Somi’s face. “I’m so-,” you're about to apologize for hitting her face with your cock. But Chaeyoung just holds your huge cock and uses it to slap Somi’s face with it. Somi doesn’t like your cock touching her face even giving her a facial is prohibited. She’s very conscious about her face and how smooth she is. She thinks that your cock and your cum will harm her flawless face thus she is cautious when giving you a blowjob.

Chaeyoung hits Somi’s face with your cock a few more times before she starts to tap it in her lips. She smiles before licking the tip of your huge cock. Your tip is also bigger than an average cock, almost looking like a small fist that will destroy her insides. Somi’s tongue continues to twirl on all sides of your tip until it’s all wet. She holds your cock with two hands in preparation of putting it inside her mouth. Chaeyoung successfully sucks a third of your cock but it’s already touching her throat. She removes your cock in her mouth to catch some air. She realized that Somi's mouth is smaller than hers, the sheer size of your cock also didn’t make things easy for her. She moves down to your balls, sucking them before giving your shaft a lick from the bottom up to your tip. She also licks the sides of your shaft, lubricating them for her to swallow all of it. Her ego would not let her give up that easily. She may be in Somi’s body but that doesn’t mean she has Somi’s limitations. Chaeyoung tries to deepthroat your huge cock again. Your fat cock reaches her again but instead of pulling back. She forcefully plunges her face deeper in your cock. The two of you left a groan as you both felt how Somi’s throat got stretched by your fat cock.

Somi looks like a mess like you have never seen before. Tears are forming through her bloodshot eyes. Her mouth is filled with drool as your cock is still deep in her throat. This is the deeper your cock reaches her tight throat. You did not know that your girlfriend can be this messy. Chaeyoung tried to move her face back and forth but your fat cock is blocking the airway. She let go of your saliva filled cock to catch her breath. She felt drools drop down to her boobs. That's when she remembers what Somi’s body has; a nice pair of tits. She instructed you to sit straight on the couch while she removed her top to reveal her well shaped boobs. She kneeled in front of you, putting your cock in between her boobs. Your cock is still wet enough that it lubricates her boobs as well. Somi’s boobs have the perfect balance of size and shape. Her rounded boobs hide the fact of how soft they really are. Somi’s mouth catches the tip of your cock. Somi continues sucks the tip of your cock while your shaft is being pressed in between her soft boobs.

Chaeyoung uses Somi’s tongue again. She alternately swirls her tongue on your tip before sucking it again. She made sure to make a sloppy slurping sound for you to hear how much she likes sucking your fat cock. Your cock twitches, you know that if she continues to suck your cock like this, you can’t help but to bust on her mouth. You tap her head signaling her to slow down. “You learn this from Chaeyoung right?” Chaeyoung was surprised with your sudden remarks. “I heard from her past partners that she’s a great sucker,” you added. A smile forms in Somi’s mouth. She didn’t know that her exes go around town telling how great her mouth is. “Want to have a threesome with her?” Chaeyoung asked teasingly. “C-can we? Would you get mad?” This is the first time your girlfriend brings up a threesome idea. “I’ll think about it,” Chaeyoung says before she continues to suck your fat cock. Your fat cock is still near to bust and she knows it. She bobs her head up and down while she sucks your cock so tightly you can see her cheeks caving in. Chaeyoung felt your cock twitch again, she removed your cock in her mouth and directed it in her Somi’s face. Spurts of cum hit her soft face from her forehead to her nose bridge down her lips and chin. Somi’s untouched face is now covered with loads of your cum. She gets a hold of your cock again, using it to smear your cum all over her face. She can’t hide how mesmerized she is with your fat cock as she continues to slap it in Somi’s mouth. You hang your head back to take a breath. You haven’t cum this much for a long time. You feel your girlfriend leave your cock, you look back up to see Somi’s boobs are dangling while removing her pants. She smiles as she slowly walks back to you.

[3verythingiknowaboutlove]

say yes to heaven

how spencer and you deal (or don't deal) with the fact that he doesn’t want a baby anymore after coming home from prison, and you really do.

MDNI | angst

word count: 2226 warnings & tags & stuff: bau!reader, avoidant reader, avoidant spencer, no happy ending (wtf), reader wants a baby, one line about reader not having a certain religious belief, they like almost have sex, spencer undresses reader, lots of talk about a condom, they dont really fight at all?, very underdeveloped/bad description of quantum immortality author's note: heyyyyy guyss whats up..... this is a different vibe to my regular stuff and i fear it may be really ooc?? i don't know how to feel but i literally have to post or i'll go even more crazy sooo here we are!! have a delightful day, let me know your thoughts if you have any, ily!!!

Antique shops, you and Spencer have decided, are the hidden gems of this nation yet to be appreciated enough by the general public. 

Each town or city you visit is bound to have one, and going to them has become a little celebratory tradition. In the early mornings after cases are solved, right before the plane ride home, you take a look around. You’re typically the first and only ones in the store, wandering with intertwined hands and sipping on ‘2 extra foamy cappuccinos with an additional shot of espresso, please’ and occasionally, but not necessarily, choosing something to take back to D.C.

You’ve been trying your absolute hardest to fill your home to the brim– sometimes with objects, and other times with words, or touch, or the ever so valuable and fleeting concept of shared time– in effort to replace what had been lost in that three month long period when it was completely devoid of tangible, fresh love.

It’s today you’re wandering through a quaint, very cluttered shop in western Oregon, the Pacific visible from the store’s windows. 

Wheels up in an hour. Don’t be late. Hotch’s text buzzes in your pocket, but you barely glance at it– there’s something about the Oregon coast that reaches into your heart and gives it a gentle massage, enveloping you in a refreshing lack of urgency.

Spencer, in his own peaceful world, is staring at a tall wall of books. He reaches out to pick up a dusty rendition of Moby Dick, carefully cracking it open to the first few pages to check the publication date, brow scrunching as he reads. You go to peer over his arm to check as well, when something catches the corner of your eye. You let go of his hand to inspect.

A bassinet. Dark wood, surface polished to a faint sheen, with intricate little waves engraved on the sides, like the ocean’s misty outreach had come all the way into the shop and placed this here for you to see. 

You weren’t exactly sure when this now familiar ache had started; this deep, internal desire felt in your stomach for a little hand to be gripped around your pointer and for tiny onesies to fill your laundry basket, but you’re sure, with every fiber of your being, that you want it to be there.

“Spence,” you say softly, voice jarring in the otherwise stillness of the shop. “Come look.” He carefully closes the book and puts it back where it was and pads over, looking down at the bassinet. His eyebrows raise slightly.

“Wow. It looks like it was made in the 80s, maybe even earlier. You won’t find any level of detailing more recently than that, it’s too labor intensive for modern production methods. Good find.”

“I know. Should we get it?” you ask, biting a smile. He quickly meets your eyes, brow raising slightly.

“Do you want to?” he asks, voice even.

“I mean, I just think it’s really cute, with the waves and stuff.” you say bashfully, nudging it with your toe so it rocks back and forth. Spencer swallows, adam's apple bobbing.

“Yeah, I just…” Spencer hesitates. “I don't think we’d be able to bring it on the jet. It would probably snap in half if we held it in the wrong way,” he says, making your brain race even though he hasn’t said a single thing that should cause it to do so.

“Oh.”

You blink.

“No, yeah, you’re totally right. It’s too inconvenient. You should get that copy of Moby Dick instead. That edition looked cool, with the forward explaining all the names,” you say gently, pushing a smile, nudging him back towards the shelf. He goes, shooting you one last glance as you move to observe a few clocks hanging on the wall.

Spencer doesn’t reach for your hand again when he comes back.

…

The house is quiet when you arrive back home, hours later. Spencer sets his bag down by the door, and yours goes next to his to be dealt with later.

Exhaustion from the case is heavy in your limbs; the long flight and the sleepless nights are seeping into your bones, but Spencer seems perfectly intent upon kissing it better. You rest your forehead on his chest, exhaling softly, contentedly, as he presses kiss after kiss into your hair. He gently rests his hands on your waist and pushes you against the door– not as an act of dominance, like if someone were viewing you two from afar might assume, but one of simple convenience.

His hand reaches up to tilt your chin to the position he wants. Before leaning in to your neck, he pauses. 

“Are you sure you don’t just want to go to bed?” he asks. “You didn't sleep last night.” You shake your head, giving his cheek a small peck of your own.

“It’s one of those tireds where I can’t even think about sleep ever again.” 

A small smile grows on his face.

“I bet I can change that,” Spencer offers, knuckles skimming over your waist. You smile and let him tug you upstairs to your room and guide your hips to sit on the bed. His hand cups the side of your jaw, as always, lips moving to press against yours in a soft, affectionate display of his adoration. His other hand moves to your waist, squeezing, and you shiver a little in response, making him hum gently. 

His hands go underneath the hem of your top. “Okay?” he asks. You nod, lifting your arms to help. His eyes take their time tracing over you, but never in a way that couldn't be defined as sweet. His hand leaves your cheek and goes to the bedside table, sliding open the drawer. It draws toward the front left corner, as it always does, when it pauses. He turns to look at you, hesitating.

You, whose legs are now pulled up to your chest, chin resting on them. You stare at the yellow light of the lamp you and Spencer picked out months ago reflecting against those countless little squares of foil. 

Your lips are drawn inwards, between your teeth, unable to help your mind from racing to other realities, ones where every detail is the very same, except Spencer chose not to open that drawer tonight. 

…

Spencer explained the basis of quantum immortality to you a long time ago, in the early stages of your relationship, at a time so late in the night where a regular person would never be able to form coherent thoughts, let alone thoughts like these.

You were slumped over the kitchen island, peering at him as he wandered around, silently marveling at the preciousness of your boyfriend the world seemed to take for granted as he tried to get you to understand how cool this concept was.

“There’s also an interpretation of quantum mechanics proposed by a physicist named Hugh Everett which involves a ‘many worlds’ concept: essentially, it suggests that every possible outcome of an event creates its own branch of reality, meaning an infinite number of parallel worlds exist, each containing a version of events where everything that can happen, does happen,” he starts, widening his eyes for dramatic effect. “So quantum immortality is rooted in the concept that when we die in one timeline, we essentially just move on to the next one where every detail is the same except… well, you don’t die.”

He went on to emphatically talk about some guy’s cat in a box, but how this time, in a thought experiment that demonstrates this theory of immortality, you’re the cat.

You had pretty much lost him when he got to that part.

…

You blink, shoving the memory from your mind. 

“You’re staring,” you point out quietly.

“You’re pretty,” Spencer responds. He sits next to you on the bed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You watch as his other hand fiddles with the condom he grabbed, running his thumb over the edges of the wrapper. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he says, “Did I do something?” You shake your head softly. 

“Mm-mm.”

“Really? Because we’ve been sitting in silence and you haven’t stopped staring at the condom in my hand for the past two minutes.”

You exhale quietly, internally screaming at yourself to just spit it out.

It’s never been easy, being an agent dating an agent. Sure, agreements have been made to not profile each other, but with so many years of experience, small observations and connections about your partner’s nature are an automatic practice. You know that Spencer takes 3 sugars in his coffee just as well as you know he says your name more frequently and shortens his sentences when scared, almost like he tries to instead convey the appearance he’s mad.

You also know very well that you and Spencer have both been consciously avoiding this conversation like the plague, especially since his homecoming. 

You gnaw at your lip, trying to think of something to say, but your mind can only come up with freaky images of cats that are simultaneously alive and dead until observed.

“`M sorry, I was just thinking. Lost in my mind.”

“Thinking about what?”

Relationships that are simultaneously kept and broken until a certain conversation is had.

“Um. Quantum immortality. Who’s that guy? Hugh Jackman?”

Spencer straightens, eyebrows raising a little. “Hugh Everett,” he supplies. His tone is gentle, coaxing. “You’ve been thinking about that? I told you about him months ago.”

He stands as you quietly think of a response, grabbing a hoodie from the closet to tug over your bare torso, letting his hand gently cradle the back of your head after doing so.

“Yeah. I did a little more reading on it. It’s kind of a nice thought I keep going back to. Obviously really, really scary when you think about it for too long. But nice in the sense that there’s probably a version of us out there somewhere where…” you trail off, suddenly extremely aware of the weight of your words. 

He glances down to the condom he left on the comforter.

The thick silence that follows feels like it stretches across a thousand timelines, each one probably also filled with countless what-ifs and unspoken words and really bad communication, and at the very root of all of it, fear. That deep, gaping hole in both of your souls.

When Spencer finally looks at you, his eyes are so deep it takes your breath away. So deep that it jars you into just saying it.

“Spencer,” you begin, voice so quiet. “Do you still want kids?”

You find yourself shooting up a silent prayer to whoever is out there looking out for you– God or Isaac Newton or Hugh Everett or Jason Gideon: 

Pleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyes.

When he doesn’t answer right away, you continue– a habit probably picked up from the person standing right in front of you. “I just feel like there was a time where we were almost talking about it, but then it… went away.”

He reaches out to gently take the condom you were now fiddling with and sets it back in the drawer, his hand resting on the edge of the table as if grounding himself. His face is soft, almost glowing in the dim yellow light.

“I know,” he starts, voice crackling at the edges.

You stay dead silent.

“I didn’t mean for it to go away,” Spencer says, the crack in his voice causing you to glance up and see his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

You nod, shakily, though the perpetual ache in your stomach is sharper now, more like it’s a knife stabbing you through the gut.

“I get it,” you say, even though part of you doesn’t want to. “You don’t need to be sorry.” You can’t even bring yourself to think of the implications of what he just said– all you know is that there is something fundamentally different between you and Spencer that wasn’t there before.

“It’s not that I don’t want it. I do. You know I do. But I can’t. Not now.”

You reach out your hand for him to take.

“Spencer,” you whisper. “It’s okay. Really. We don’t have to talk about it any more.”

His lips press into a thin line, and you can tell he doesn’t believe you. Clearly. It wasn’t a statement said to be believed. There was nothing okay, at all, but this isn’t a fight- there’s nothing to fight about. There's just a quiet understanding. He nods, finally, and steps back. “We should get some sleep,” he says, his voice almost too soft to hear.

You watch as he pulls back the covers and slides into bed, still in his work clothes, leaving just enough space for you beside him. After a moment you curl up next to him because, despite everything, doing the alternative would be so much worse.

Spencer's arms wrap around you, his breath warm against the nape of your neck, and you close your eyes and let the silence settle over you both, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your back. Something you would have given anything to have not so long ago.

[starmocha]

Hi hello so im back again with a smaaaaaaallllll rant about Colonel Caleb and general's daughter. I just got the ideea and i had, once again, nowhere to rant about it.

Ahham. So....them having their own 'myth' lets say. They were lovers in their past lives(historical maybe the 1800 or the 1900)but couldn't be toghter since she was of lower status then Caleb, him being a Colonel in the army (i love Colonel Caleb so bear with me) and her being a commoner or someting and she dies in his arms and he swears to protect her in their next lives and faith makes sure to have them be of the same 'rank'??? so he could fullfill his promise FUCK MY MIND IS IN RUINS 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I hope i made myself clear if not blame my mind, thank you! Good night! 😭😂❤️❤️

MINA I AM DELIGHTED TO SEE YOU AND YOUR LOVELY AU AGAIN. <333 gosh I wanted to answer this immediately last night, but Caleb’s latest trailer had me losing my mind and things spiraled 😭😭😭

Giving you all of my attention, because EXCUSE ME. WHEELS ARE SPINNING.

Can we…can we just indulge on this a little more? 🥹 omg excuse the slightly heavy Moulin Rouge! influences sprinkled in here, but this is the vibe I am getting, especially for their “tragic” ending.

A Colonel and His Lover

Imagine Colonel Caleb is dragged to a brothel by his associates and superiors. He finds the whole thing disdainful, but is pressured by his own superiors to indulge in a little nightly fun and let loose and forget their duties for a bit.

He doesn’t plan to. He had planned on leaving the moment everyone finds their partners.

Until he sees you.

Literally lust love at first sight.

He’s captivated by your beauty, your wits, and he’s falling hard and fast before he realizes what is happening.

One night with you leaves him yearning for more. He has already remembered how you felt under him, the way you quivered and moaned for him.

He remembers the sweet nothings uttered between the two of you, and though a tiny part in his mind is telling him that you are just a whore who is good with her tongue, he wants to believe that there is something genuine blossoming between the two of you.

He starts going back to the whorehouse more often. Nightly, if he could. He still puts on an act that he was being pressured to tag along, but in reality, all he wants is to see you again. No matter what it takes, what the price, he wants you and only you.

In the beginning, he was just another client. One of those military brutes who only saw you as something that can be bought for and used until they were satisfied.

You did intentionally charm him in the beginning. A false smile, a few sweet words to prickle his male ego, but it soon becomes apparent to you that Caleb is not like all of your previous clients. When he sees you, there is genuine feelings in his eyes, he is truly looking at you for you and not just a body to be used.

You try to discourage your own feelings, reminding yourself of the different classes you belong to. This can never happen—could never happen.

A prestigious colonel on his way to greatness and a common whore? What a joke. It seems almost insulting to entertain such an idea that you could ever truly be his. You quiet those feelings, try to imagine him as any of those other bastards who drag you to bed.

Except you can’t.

Caleb won’t let you. He sees you for you. He wants to know you, the real you, who you have hidden away for years.

You no longer wait for him to come to you as a client. You begin to sneak around whenever you both could, having regular rendezvouses where he is no longer a client or you’re a whore, but two lovers meeting to be together.

After one afternoon delight, you lay with him in an inn bed, tangled in sheets and wrapped in his warmth, and he paints you a beautiful picture of the life you both could have together.

He would buy you all of the beautiful dresses for you to wear, show you off with pride, his equal at his side wherever he goes. Men may still lust after you, their wives green with envy, but to Caleb, he couldn’t care, because he knows you are his and his alone.

You would live in a beautiful house, your days filled with idle contentment and no longer have to worry about anything or want for anything. Caleb promises to provide you with everything you could want and more.

When you tell him, though, that he is all that you want, his cheeks tinge pink, but his smile is layered with joy and also…gratitude? He looks at you like you are his whole world, because that’s just how it is: you are his world now. He had never thought he could cherish someone as much as he cherishes you.

A beautiful life awaits you. He asks you to marry him.

For just a moment, you hesitate, and he is confused. He gently questions you, wondering if you have any doubts about his feelings.

“No! Never!” you tell him, and then reluctantly, you reveal that you could still feel that distance in classes between the two of you. You worry about his reputation, and Caleb seems surprised.

He reassures you there is nothing for you to worry about. He can handle whatever happens, and he promises to keep you safe.

You agree to marry him.

Life continues as normal as the two of you plan to run away and elope. He had promised you an extravagant wedding, but you want him now, already wanting to be his wife and he your husband.

This rosy life you are seeing turns grey in an instant, everything grinding to a halt when you start to display symptoms of an unknown illness. You start coughing up blood more often, your body weakened some days to the point you need to be bedridden. Secretly, you hid everything from Caleb, not wanting him to worry.

Caleb starts wising up, realizing something is wrong when you continue to evade his questions or even outrightly avoid meeting him again.

When a physician reveals to you that you only have less than five months to live, you realize that the dream life Caleb promised you would never come true. Not wanting him to bear the pain of seeing you dying, you start to drive a further wedge between the two of you, consciously doing things to make him hate you so he wouldn’t ever have to feel the pain of losing you.

It works.

You fight with him to the point that you’re both yelling and screaming at one another until he loses control of his anger and drives his fist into a wall, scaring you briefly, having never seen this side of him before. He doesn’t want you to see him like this either, so he leaves, leaving you with these bitter harsh words and some bills tossed at you in spite:

“I have paid for my whore. My debt is paid and she is nothing to me.”

When he is out of sight, you fall to the ground sobbing, angry at yourself for doing a good job of driving him away and making him hate your existence. The man you loved is gone, and though it hurts, you still wish he would find someone to replace you, because you still love him with your whole heart and never want him to be alone like this.

Caleb is angry and it shows. The Colonel has always been very disciplined and strict, but everyone has noticed his temper seemed even more short. There is no leniency with him. You mess up, he will make sure you learn from your mistakes. You talk back to him, and it will be your last words in his presence.

He starts to drink more often, wishing to numb his pain, to forget your fights, to forget you. There is no alcohol in the world strong enough to cure him of this heartache. In spite of everything, he still loves you. He replays the memories often, wondering when everything had gone wrong.

One night as he sits at the bar, on his fifth glass of scotch, he pulls out a ring box, opening it to look at the dainty little ring he had secretly chosen for you. It wasn’t a huge diamond, but still perfectly sized, and he knows it would look beautiful on your finger.

He downs his glass, pays his tab, and stumbles out of the bar. He staggers through the streets disoriented, not even thinking clearly of where he is going.

He finds himself at the brothel again, and he scoffs. He goes in, demanding to see you.

The madame there tries to turn him away. She knows who he is, and also knows of his secret relationship with one her girls. She knows what you two had planned, because you had revealed everything to her and begged her to never let him come near you again—for his sake. Always for his sake. Even as you are dying upstairs, each day, you breathing growing weaker, you still think of him.

Caleb doesn’t take “no” for an answer and in his current drunken state, he is more prone to violence than usual, slurring insults about you in spite. It isn’t until one of the other girls screams out that you were dying, that he freezes, sobering up instantly.

“What…did you say?”

His whole world had stopped. The colors drain from his face, his heart slowing as he replays her words in his mind. The dots start to connect as he remembers all of your final fights, realizing your expressions had always seemed off somehow.

His throat is dry, his limbs rigid as he tries to move. Suddenly, he runs off in a mad dash before anyone could stop him. He rushes up the stairs, passing several rooms, pushing anyone in his way to the side until he finds your room, the door bursting open and he freezes again, not recognizing the frail woman laying in bed under multiple covers as a nurse is tending to her.

Caleb doesn’t leave and rushes to your side, dropping to his knees as he reaches for your hand, begging you to look at him. He apologizes profusely, his eyes glistening with tears.

“Why didn’t you tell me?! Why did you lie to me?! Why, why…why…”

His large hands wrapped around yours, holding it close to his face as he sobs.

“Ca..leb…”

He looks up, seeing you smiling at him weakly.

“I’m here,” he assures you, “I’m here…I’m not leaving…Not again…”

Too weak to fight, too relieved to see him, you let him stay and you close your eyes.

He stays by your side for your remaining days, cherishing the little time you had left.

One afternoon as he watches you sleep, he sits on the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing aside your hair, his eyes heavy with sadness as he realizes how frail and pale you are now compared to who you were months earlier. Quietly, he pulls out the ring box, taking the ring out, and slipping it on your ring finger. It looks perfect on you, just like he had known it would.

When you wake that evening and see the ring, you start to protest, saying it’s wasted on you.

He silences you with a kiss, and once again, he reassures you that nothing he does for you is ever wasted effort. You are his only bride, and no one will ever take your place.

Time dwindles, and he watches you waste away each day, his heart heavy with remorse and anger that he is losing you before his very eyes and there is nothing that he can do to stop this. For all of his strength and glory, Caleb has never felt as weak and helpless as he does now.

He tries to fill your days with as much comfort and happiness as he could.

It was a spring afternoon when he lays in bed with you. He leans back against the headboard, your body resting against his, the cover up to your neck for warmth, but nothing felt more comforting than his own body heat against you.

He tells you stories again and as you listen to him, you wonder why his voice sounds more distant even though he is right here next to you.

Caleb watches, realizing, he has lost you, your body growing colder and unresponsive.

He breaks down crying as a warm spring breeze rustles into the room from the opened balcony door. He holds you close to him and just sobs and curses every deity in the world.

He promises in the next life, he will be a better man and give you what you deserve. In the next life, things will go right. The story of you and him will be rewritten, he swears on his life.

[multimilfs]

Agnes O'Connor x Fem!Reader: Beginning & End

Summary: Taking a late drive to get your mind off a few things, you get more than you bargained for from a not-so-routine traffic stop.

AO3

A/N: Wasn't sure how to tag this since Agnes is technically an Agatha... variant? persona? Also I didn't tag the Agatha taglist since this isn't technically Agatha? tricky tricky... This is basically just pure smut with a sprinkle of plot.. enjoy xoxo (also let me know if you want more of Agnes?)

Words: 6.2k

Included: Established relationship, Jealousy, Smut; choking, spitting, bdsm, possession, semi-public sex, car sex, fingering, cunnilingus, daddy kink, roleplaying, power dynamics, dom/sub, teasing, begging

Tag List: @escapetodreamworld @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @multifandomfix

You sigh as you lean into the leather seat. The music is loud enough to hurt, but you don’t turn the volume down, glad of the noise even if you don’t feel like singing along. Trees fly by outside the window as you drive. 

A sign passes in a flash but you catch the number; 45. Your speedometer reads 55. 

Making sure you’re alone on the road, you push it to 57 just for kicks. Even as the dark scenes on either side pass in a blur, the road ahead is clear. The moon hangs low and bright above, reflecting off the filled-in parts of the pavement. 

The song changes and you sigh again upon hearing the familiar tune. It only reminds you of your wife; who should be home and in bed with you, but ended up on night-shift instead after hassling a suspect a bit too hard, canceling your planned evening. 

Which leads you to driving the backroads between Westview and Eastview, hoping the journey will tire you out enough that you can sleep. Instead it lands you in the position of blowing past a hidden cop. 

Just your luck. 

You groan as you turn the music down and pull off the road into a flat area of grass. With the lights, you can’t tell if it's a Westview or Eastview officer at first. You have pretty good chances of getting off with a warning if it's one of Agnes’ coworkers. 

But it’s not one of the regular officers. It’s the Chief’s car. You hit your head against the steering wheel. He’s been riding Agnes’ ass for months and will likely give you a hefty ticket just to spite her. 

While you’re hitting your head against the wheel, there’s a knock on your window. You roll it down without looking, “Look, Chief, I know the deal. You can just write me a ticket and I’ll pay it tomorrow.” 

“Oh, will you now?” 

You pause. 

Looking up in disbelief, “Agnes?” 

“That’s Detective O’Connor to you.” Her face doesn’t change from the stern facade, “You were driving pretty recklessly back there. Have you been drinking tonight, ma’am?” 

Subtly as you can manage, you check your side mirror to see if anyone else sits in the police cruiser. It wouldn’t be unlike the Chief to put Agnes through some insane test. No shadows lurk in the other car. 

You drag your eyes back to Agnes. She’s waiting, still just as stoic, but you see the mischief in her eyes. Well, if she wants to play, why not up the stakes?

Tilting your head and smiling, “Of course not, detective. I’ve been a good girl.” 

A split-second pause tells you she wasn’t expecting that. She licks her lips before the act slips back into place. She scoffs. 

“That’s what they all say. Wait here.” Her hand pats the open window before she’s heading back toward the cruiser. 

You watch her walk away in the side mirror with a grin. Her confident gait stirs something in you, always has. 

For a split second you consider throwing the car in drive and peeling out of here. You’re curious to see what Agnes would do. You hope she’d chase you all the way home; that way when you get there you could finally have a taste of what tonight was meant to be. 

You want Agnes painfully. Between work deadlines on your end and long hours on hers, you’ve been too tired to do more than cuddle, or some heavy kissing on a better day. You miss the connection that comes from baring yourselves to one another. And the orgasms, too, of course. 

Agnes is back at your window, breathalyzer in hand. You make a split second decision. 

“Please, detective, I can’t afford another ticket, and my wife will be so mad.” You plead, using that innocent, wide-eyed expression you know turns her on, “Is there anything I can do to… pay it off, per se?” 

To her credit, she doesn’t crack this time, “Are you soliciting an officer of the law, ma’am?” 

“No, of course not! Unless that’s what you want.” 

“Step out of the car.” 

The commanding note in her voice goes straight between your thighs. You open the door and step out, watching her brows raise at only the long nightgown you’re wearing. There’s a chill in the air that makes you shiver. Her eyes are drawn to your chest before she shakes away whatever is going through her mind. 

While you’re enjoying the game, you do hope she’ll let you get back in the car soon. The cold is unmanageable without more substantial clothing. 

Agnes holds up the breathalyzer, “Open your mouth.” 

You do so without thinking. A blush races up your face. Agnes can’t help but smirk. 

It’s not the breathalyzer that finds itself between your lips, but two fingers that settle on your tongue and press. You jolt at the pressure. Tears come to your eyes as you gag, but the weight of her fingers doesn’t ebb. You fight against your gag reflex to curl your tongue around the digits. 

Closing your lips around them, you swirl your tongue like one would around a piece of candy. Even through blurred vision you can see how Agnes’ eyes darken. She leans forward, staring at your lips. 

Her fingers move deeper, pressing harder, fucking your throat. You swallow around them. 

You find your mouth and throat empty as Agnes pulls out. Her hand grabs your face before you can close your mouth and holds it open, fingers wet against your cheek. She grins meanly. 

“Stick out your tongue.” 

The second you do, Agnes spits in your mouth. You whimper. It’s humiliating and you feel yourself clench around nothing. You leave your tongue in the position she demanded, obedient as ever. 

Agnes laughs, “Swallow.” 

Humiliation, in combination with your startling need for her touch, forces the tears to spill over and down your cheeks. The sight of them seems to please her. She’s always loved seeing you thoroughly debased; loves knowing only she can break you down like this. 

Partners in the past did try. Yet they would hesitate, hold back, believing they knew the limits of your desire instead of trusting you. A few would panic when they saw tears in your eyes and pull out of the scene completely. You often found yourself pretending; toning down your desires to ‘acceptable’ levels and leaving yourself unsatisfied to avoid that worried look in your partner’s eyes. 

But you’ve never had to pretend with Agnes. From that first time, she went as far as she wanted, knowing that you were an adult capable of safe-wording if it was too much; it wasn’t. You had been dripping and needy the entire time. You had cried while she sat back and watched you polish her boots with your tongue, and had nearly come undone from the act alone. It was everything you craved—Agnes was everything you craved; trusting, dominating, cruel when it suited, and the most loving partner you’ve ever known. 

You had vowed then and there that you weren’t letting her get away. And how lucky for you that she put a ring on your finger; the ring that is so much more than a symbol of love; but a brand, too, just as you desire. 

“I wonder what your wife would think of you offering yourself up to me,” Agnes muses, “but you’re so eager for it, I can’t help but wonder if she’s not satisfying you properly.” 

“Only you can satisfy me, detective.” You flutter your lashes. 

That draws a real laugh from her. Something inside you preens. You lean forward into Agnes’ space, angling your head for a kiss, but she pulls back. 

“Be that as it may, soliciting an officer is a crime, as is reckless driving.” Her hands reach for her belt, where her handcuffs rest in one of the holsters, “I’m going to have to take you in.” 

Though the idea of being cuffed and fucked however she pleases excites you, you’re not entirely pleased with how your original plan was ruined. Agnes knew where the line was during interrogations and she crossed it. Knowingly. It’s safe to say you’re a little pissed she acted out. 

A mean-spirited voice in your head considers pushing Agnes away entirely, leaving her wet and turned on for the rest of the night shift while you go home and find solace in your favorite toy. The rational part of you knows that no toy can replace your wife, and it’s her you want. You’re just not going to make it easy for her. 

You fall to your knees before she can work the cuffs off her belt. She jolts at the unexpected change. You slam against the ground pretty hard and wince, but don’t dare stop. 

Your hands find her belt buckle. Deftly, you start to undo it, “Please, I can make you feel good. I’ll do anything.” 

Agnes raises her brows. She doesn’t stop you from undoing her belt or slowly lowering the zipper of her pants. There’s a tenseness in her jaw as she thinks over the request. Intent on sealing the deal, you move your hands from the front of her pants; instead leaning forward to place a kiss where they’d just been. 

Looking up through your lashes, you beg, “Please.” 

“Well, since you’re so eager for it.” 

Ignoring the screaming in your knees, you shoot to your feet, capturing Agnes’ lips in a hard kiss. You attack with lips and teeth and tongue. At the same time, you slip your hand inside her pants and past the waistband of her panties. 

She groans against your lips when your fingers play in her wetness. Your fingers ghost over her clit and you grin into the kiss. Two hands settle on your hips and shove, your back hitting the side of your car; it hurts for a moment before you’re once again lost in the feel of your wife, how she’s using her position to grind against your hand, the obscene noises leaving her throat.

Your clit throbs with every roll of her hips. It’s intoxicating that she’s just taking what she wants, using you as a toy to achieve her own pleasure. But the desire between your own legs reminds you of the end goal. 

Agnes’ hips pick up speed, her usual low groans evolving into panting, high-pitched whimpers. She’s so close. You consider letting her have what she wants. 

Moments before she can fall over the edge you pull your hand from her pants. Hands settling on her chest, you shove her back. She jolts and stumbles. Her fucked-out expression from seconds earlier shifts to confusion, then anger. 

“What the fuck?” Agnes snarls. 

“You’ve been bad, detective.” Still leaning against the car, you cross your arms over your chest, “Or should I say Daddy.” 

Agnes stands straighter. There’s steel in her spine now, jaw taught as darkness comes over her expression. Amusement alights inside your chest. 

Her hands begin to unravel the belt from the loops of her pants, “I’m going to paint your backside blue.” 

“I don’t think so.” Your voice is hard. “You see, I had a lovely evening planned for us. Dinner, a movie, clean sheets for us to spend all night ruining. And we didn’t get to enjoy any of it because someone couldn’t control her temper. So you, daddy, are going to fuck me until I decide I’m ready to forgive you.” 

“It’s cute that you think you’re in control, baby.” 

Agnes steps into your space, belt in her hands. You stop her with a hand on her chest before she can get close enough to do anything. 

“I am in control.” 

“Those with the upper hand don’t usually have to state the fact.” 

You tilt your head, “If you don’t give me what I want, you’re not going to touch me for weeks. I’ll fuck myself and all you’ll be able to do is watch. And I’ll stuff all the pairs of panties I ruin into your bag, your pockets… everywhere you go, you’ll be reminded of just what you’re missing.” 

The smug expression slowly slips from her face. She tries to push forward again, but you’re unyielding; clenching your fist in the fabric of her shirt until she feels the subtle bite of your nails. There’s fury and a small trace of fear in her eyes. 

It’s rare that you have the upper hand. Usually Agnes is twelve steps ahead of everyone—you included. But this time she miscalculated, and she’s going to pay for it. 

“Your choice, daddy.”

She scoffs. Shaking her head, a few pieces of her hair free themselves from her low ponytail. They lay in and over her face before she blows them out of the way carelessly. She hasn’t been taking care of it, you can tell; and briefly, you consider if you can get away with commandeering her into taking better care of herself. 

You likely shouldn’t push your luck. Agnes is going to punish you enough for this stunt, you’re sure. 

The belt is tossed onto the ground a few feet away in a silent show of surrender. Her eyes are dark, churning with a mixture of fury and arousal. A brief moment passes where you wonder if you’re taking this a bit too far, but you shove it down; Agnes is an adult just as you are and will tell you if you cross any hard lines. 

“Is the heat on in the cruiser?” You ask. 

She pauses, taken-aback, “Yeah, of course.” 

“Good. You’re going to fuck me in it later. But first—” 

You open the back door of your own car as wide as it can go, just so you can perch on the seat with your feet still outside. With a smile, you open your legs wide. You hadn’t considered this outcome when you left the house for your drive, so your panties are relatively plain, but it doesn’t matter since they’re soaked through. 

Agnes takes a step forward and you hold up a finger. She pauses. You point at the ground. 

Her face goes red, “Not fucking likely.” 

And then she’s on you. She’s holding herself up with one hand on the seat, the other dragging your face to hers. Her body rests perfectly between your legs. With a low moan, you roll your hips against her front. 

Her grip on your face is painful. Thank god her nails are clipped short. 

Agnes pulls away from your mouth to bite and suck at your throat. You throw your head back, still grinding up against her, moaning with abandon. The friction is nice but it isn’t what you wanted. 

“I want you to eat me out.” You force out. 

“I don’t care what you want.” Agnes growls. 

“Oh? Well, I guess I should be prepared to handle my own orgasms for a while, then.” 

As you say that, you stop grinding, and lay fully against the seat, one of your arms snaking its way down your front and between your thighs. You’ve only circled a finger around your clit twice before her hand catches your wrist in a punishing grip. 

“Try it and I’ll tie you to the bed everyday when I go to work.” 

“I made my terms abundantly clear.” 

“You know what you forgot though, brat?” Agnes taunts, lips right next to your ear, “You’re too greedy to settle for your hand or your little toys. It’s only a matter of time before you get bored and come crawling back to me.” 

“Maybe I’ll just crawl to someone else. Agent Vidal has been hanging around.” 

A hand closes around your throat and you whine. She squeezes, your vision going fuzzy around the edges. You roll your hips. 

“I’ll lock you in the house if you even think about it.” Her voice is hard, promising, “You’re mine, baby.” 

“Prove it.” 

That’s the wrong thing to say. 

Agnes pulls back completely. Her hands leave you, the pressure of her body is gone. You look up and she’s standing just far enough away that you can’t touch her. You growl. 

The look on her face is one you’ve seen a dozen times; the very same one she wears when you’re about to endure something you don’t like. But you vow not to let her have the upper hand. Not this time. This time, you’re going to make her bend. 

“I’ll see you in the morning.” She says. 

The words are like a bucket of cold water over your head. You don’t spend long dwelling on the threat, there’s no time. 

Agnes is halfway back to the police cruiser when you worm your hand into your panties and bury two fingers inside without preamble. Despite being the source of your own pleasure, you jolt, back bowing off the seat. The moan that leaves your lips is exaggerated; pornographic. 

“Oh, yes!” 

You hear her footsteps come to a stop. You don’t dare open your eyes, not yet. The pleasure you’re experiencing is real, even if it is half of what it could be with Agnes’ help, but you have to keep up the act—have to make her jealous of your own fingers. 

Though she hates to admit it, Agnes is jealous in all aspects of life. There’s a bit of healthy competitiveness worked in there that you can admire. Yet some days… some days she comes home fighting mad, hair a mess and muscles clenched tight as she recounts the events that made her that way. And lately they’ve all had the same person involved—

Agent Rio Vidal. 

A loaner agent from the FBI, here to figure out some of the more poignant details of a murder on the Westview-Eastview county line. She’s confident and cutting and painfully attractive. Somehow, she knows how to push every single one of Agnes’ buttons, in work and play. 

You’ve only met her twice and each time Agnes was an animal afterward. The appreciative glances and suggestive words made you blush—and though you won’t admit it, turned you on a good bit—while Agnes could barely hold herself back from attacking the woman. So possessive. So jealous. 

You can use that. 

The door on the other car hasn’t opened and you know she’s watching with rapt attention. You put on a good show, rolling your hips into your one hand while pinching at your chest with the other. You could get off on her watching. 

Another exaggerated, high-pitched moan, “Oh, Agent Vidal!” 

Though the woman is attractive, you can’t imagine anyone but your wife. Agnes doesn’t need to know that. 

Strong hands grab your calves and pull you half-way out of the car. You squeak, eyes snapping open. Agnes looms above you and oh fuck you’re in trouble. 

“You little bitch.” She snarls, hand coming to wrap around your throat.

You try to moan but she doesn’t give you that much air. Another deft hand rips your own from your panties, even going so far as to rip the fabric off completely. There’s the ghost of her fingers above your center. You roll your hips. 

The sensation of loss and blurry edges is usually a huge turn-on; maybe it’s the intense change from oxygen to no oxygen, but you’re struggling more than normal. You tap her wrist three times. 

Agnes pulls away completely. Her hand is off your neck, the other gone from between your thighs. You take in large lungfuls of air and feel your heart-rate slow just a little. A little whine works its way from your throat, though it’s mainly a result of the throbbing between your legs that’s still driving you crazy. 

Your wife’s hands hover over you, eyes concerned, “Honey?” 

“I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me.” You assure, sitting up and kissing one of her palms, “The quick change just… startled me. I’m okay.” 

“Should I… Do you need me to take you home?” 

“Oh no, Agnes O’Connor, you’re going to finish what you started.” Spreading your legs offers an obscene picture of just how soaked you are, made even more tantalizing by the ripped panties clinging to your thigh, “Unless you want me to find someone else who can finish the job.” 

It’s like flipping a switch. 

Overwhelming is a word that could be used to describe Agnes in bed—smothering, even. She has a way of overtaking every single one of your senses at once. Your skin is on fire with her touch, with the faint strands of hair tickling your face. The scent of burnt break-room coffee clings to her jacket. You even taste it when her tongue invades your mouth, moaning obscenely against your lips. 

You like being smothered, though. You crave it; aching for anything that will let you turn your mind off and just feel. 

Agnes pulls back. Her breath is hot against your lips, “You’re such a brat.” 

“Only for you, daddy.” You murmur. 

A shudder passes through her at the name. Her grip tightens on you, near bruising. You moan. 

“Where do you want me?” 

“With your mouth between my legs.” 

“Fingers?” 

“Yes, please.” 

Agnes chuckles, “So you do remember your manners. Interesting.” 

You roll your eyes. To your luck, Agnes doesn’t see—if she had, you would have been punished accordingly. Though you realize things are a bit off-balance with your threat hanging in the air; any other time, Agnes would have you bent anyway she pleased, taking all she wanted until you couldn’t handle any more. 

Being in control is… odd. Not unwanted, but odd. You have to be more aware of yourself, confident in every command that leaves your lips. You’re glad that this is Agnes’ preferred role even if you’re enjoying the change. 

Lips kiss the inside of your thighs and you shudder. When she sinks her teeth in, you squeal, jolting at the change. Your hand falls to the top of her head. 

“Not what I meant!” 

“Oh, then what did you mean?” She taunts. 

“If you don’t make me come right now so help me—” 

The heat of her mouth on you is enough to shut you up. Her tongue drags up your slit with agonizing slowness. She teases at your clit for only a moment before repeating the slow drag, making you whine, pressing her head closer. 

You feel the rumble of her laughter and god help you the vibrations feel amazing. Yet when you try to move your hips for more, her hands keep them pressed firmly to the leather seat. 

Another threat sits on your lips that never comes to pass. With the last slow lick, she fastens her lips around your clit and sucks, hard. It’s painful and wonderful and your back bows off the seat, hands scrambling for anything to clench into. The weeks have been long and you know you’re not going to last. 

“I’m going to come.” You force out. 

She laughs again. That, in combination with her attention focused solely on your clit, sends you straight over the edge. You feel wild, unhinged as your hips move without any guidance from your mind, chasing the waves of pleasure that make your every muscle go taut. 

But when the pleasure subsides, Agnes doesn’t stop. She pushes two fingers inside and curls them in that way you like so much. You clench around them, though you ache, not ready for more so soon. 

“I can’t—Please, I can’t.” You beg. 

“One more, baby. You can give me that, can’t you?” 

“I can’t.” 

“You can.” 

And you do. Her fingers know every inch of you well, her mind cataloging every spot that makes you whine, every move she performs that sends you over the edge. She calls on that knowledge as the pads of her fingers rub against that spot inside you with abandon until you can’t breathe, shrieking and moaning loud enough that you worry someone will hear you miles away. 

The pleasure tenses your body so tight that you worry the muscles will never relax again. It hurts in that delicious way only Agnes can bring out. 

When you do relax, she’s licking gently at you, collecting the flavor on her tongue and savoring it like a fine wine. You twitch. The hand you have in her hair pushes as you attempt to slide further onto the seat, away from her mouth. 

“No more,” you beg, “please.” 

“Am I forgiven?” 

You laugh, breathless, “Not quite.” 

You tug her up wordlessly until the weight of her is draped over you. It’s nice, comforting to feel her close. Her warmth helps fight against the cold biting at your lower half. Sighing, you bury your face in her neck, your hand coming up to lazily play with her hair. 

Agnes accepts the touch. She traces little patterns on your hip over the nightgown, soft and quiet. You can still see the red and blue lights from your hiding place in her neck. 

“Why do you have the Chief’s car?” You ask. 

She scoffs, “Mine broke down three hours into the shift. Had to call the Chief and walk all the way to his house to get the cruiser.” 

“What? Agnes, why didn’t you call me?” 

“I wanted you to enjoy your night in, honey.” 

You think about arguing, but you recognize the exhaustion in her voice, and decide not to push it—for now. It’s an argument you can save for later. 

“So what was it, the battery? I thought we just replaced it.” 

“I think the old girl might just be done for. We’ve had her for a while.” Agnes shrugs. 

“But that’s… we brought Nicky home in that car.” You whisper, chest aching. 

Another piece of your life—connected to your baby—that you won’t get to keep. Agnes tenses, her breathing growing ragged, and you feel terrible; she’s likely already thought about this the whole shift, spent all these hours remembering it alone. That’s why she didn’t call you—she didn’t want to drag you bag into the deep end of the pain, too. 

You press a gentle kiss to the side of her neck. No wonder she took the first opportunity to play with you, she needed the distraction. 

“I’m sorry, my love.” You murmur.

“Not your fault, honey. These things happen.” 

She sounds less and less like herself with every moment. You don’t want to shove the grief aside—the grief counselor said that only made things worse—but this isn’t how you want to handle it; Agnes draped over your freshly-debauched form in the backseat of your car. 

This is a conversation, a breakdown for home, where the two of you can take all the time you need to soak in the new loss. You need to distract her away from this. 

“Will the force offer you one of their vehicles?” 

“Yeah. They should.” 

“Where did you break down?” 

“By the bridge on Old Forest.” 

Perfect. 

“Let’s give her a proper sendoff, then.” 

Agnes pauses. The look she gives you is questioning, as if not quite believing your suggestion, but she knows better—knows you’re serious about this. 

“Alright.” 

Which is how you find yourself halfway across town, on a back road with no streetlights, pulling off perilously close to a ditch. Agnes' car is unmistakable even in the dark—from the extra mirror on the hood reflecting the moonlight to the dent in the back bumper she never got fixed. You feel suddenly overwhelmed as you trace your fingers over the body. 

So many memories, good and bad. Your late-night trysts in the back seat. Bringing Nicky home. The back seat full of his stinky sports gear. Agnes’ old case files winding up on the floor. 

Agnes comes up and drapes her jacket over your shoulders. The warmth of her body has seeped into the cloth, now blocking out the chill in the air, “This might not be the best idea.” 

You raise a brow, “Cold feet, detective?” 

“Mine are nice and warm. Yours, however...” 

She looks up and down your scantily-clad form with a worried furrow of her brow. It’s sweet, but not needed. 

“I don’t think our plans will keep me anything but warm.” You smile, leaning back against the car while pulling Agnes close, until every inch of her is pressed against your front. Her hands settle on your hips as she kisses you with a softness belaying the vulnerability she still feels, “Unlock the car.” 

“Honey—” 

“Agnes, would you rather I went home?” You murmur. 

“Of course not.” 

“Then what do you want?”

“Beats me.”

“You know what I want?” 

Using your leverage against the vehicle, you draw one of your feet up the inside of Agnes’ leg, careful to press every part of yourself against her. Her warmth radiates through her flannel and jeans and you smile. 

She raises a brow, “I’m sure I can guess.” 

“I want you to bend me over in the backseat of this car like you did that first time. You remember, don’t you? How pissed you were that I’d been teasing you for five dates.” You laugh at the memory, “You couldn’t even make it out of the restaurant parking lot.” 

“You were so loud we almost got caught.” She recalls, voice low, gravelly. 

“There’s no one around to catch us now.” 

Agnes wraps one of her arms around your waist and uses it to tug you sideways, making quick work of unlocking the car. With the hand not on your waist, she opens the back door, and eases her jacket from your shoulders. She lays it out on the cold seats with the warm side up. 

Not for the first time, you’re moved by her consideration of your comfort. It would be so easy for a partner to disregard the little things if it meant getting to the end goal faster; but not Agnes. You reward her with a long, slow kiss. 

When she pulls away, there’s a fond little smile on her lips. She pats your hip, “On your hands and knees.” 

You obey without question. Crawling onto the backseat, you’re reminded of just how confined the space of a car is. You have to keep your head bowed so as not to hit your head on the roof. It’ll be worth your while, but you know the two of you will be feeling the adverse effects of this choice for days. 

Agnes follows and shuts the door behind her. She works her way into the backseat until not a bit of space exists between the two of you. Every inch of her front is pressed against you, draped over you like a warm blanket. You push your backside back into her crotch, teasing. 

“I should’ve sent you home to get your purple.” You say. 

“Be good and you can have my cock later.” 

Warm fingertips trail up the back of your thigh until they snake under the hem of your nightgown. The soothing heat of her touch is lovely compared to the bite of the cold air. You lean into it. 

“Yes, daddy.” You sigh. 

Her body pulls away from yours and you turn, confused. A sharp slap to your backside makes your breath stutter, your core clenching around nothing. Your toes curl. 

“Interesting that you want to be good now, when you’ve been testing me all night.” 

“What can I say? I’m motivated by rewards.” 

You’re satisfied that Agnes seems to be in the moment, rather than locked up in the memories in her head. Intent on keeping it that way, you lean back into her, arching so you can match her entirely. Her muscles go taut and relax and being able to feel it makes you ravenous. 

Two fingers push your ripped panties aside and begin to drag up your slit, teasing. It should be noted that you are trying to be good for her, offering the control she takes to so well. You like to think she can tell, too. 

When she slips her fingers inside you without torturing you further, you’re sure she knows. 

You push back, desperate. You want more of her and bad. It’s as if the orgasms she gave you less than an hour ago never happened. Every muscle in your body quakes with the knowledge of what only Agnes can give you. And you want it so deeply that it threatens to bring tears to your eyes. 

“Please.” You beg without prompting, “Please, more.” 

A split-second hesitation belays her surprise, but she does slip another finger inside, stretching you even wider. You can’t stop how you move, nor the noises that come out of your mouth. You feel cursed with hunger only she can sate. 

It’s this car, this backseat, and the memories here that are driving you so mad. It’s the life attached to it that you never thought you would get; a family, a future, a wife who loves you despite all the ugly parts others had run from. It’s the years you haven’t had to live out alone, the pain you’ve shared. It’s the fact that this act was once a beginning and now it’s an end. 

Her lips press against the back of your neck, impossibly gentle, so unlike the role she’s meant to be playing. Something inside you breaks. 

“Agnes—“ You choke out. 

“It’s okay, honey.” 

You let go. 

You let go from holding yourself back—fucking yourself on her fingers until you shriek with pleasure. You let go of the ball of emotions in your chest, of hunger and pleasure and guilt. You let go of the pain and let tears spill over onto your cheeks. 

It’s not the best orgasm you’ve ever had, but it doesn’t need to be. It’s a goodbye to this piece of your life. It’s an end. And it hurts just the same as it feels good to embrace the potential of something new. 

Agnes holds you, steady as ever. You feel the dampness of her own tears on your neck. 

You turn and lay on your back, welcoming the weight of her. You use your thumbs to wipe away the tears coming from her beautiful blue eyes. 

“Am I forgiven, or do we have to go another round?” She asks.

You grin, not taking your hands from her face, “You’re forgiven, my love.” 

“Thank god.” 

Agnes drops her head until it rests on your chest. You laugh, extracting the hair tie so you can run your fingers through the length of it. Her arms wrap around you as much as they can. 

She presses a kiss to your chest, over where your heart is. You gently work through a knot in between your fingers. The windows are clouded with perspiration. Beads of water reflect what little moonlight peeks through the trees. Moonlight or no, you know every dip and curve of your wife’s form, and could identify every part of her without sight. 

The stale coffee smell has worn off, replaced by the faint undertones of the cologne she wears each morning. It’s deep and musky and comforting. 

Maybe it’s the weight of her head on your chest in combination with the memories that makes you speak, “Have you ever thought about us trying again?” 

She tilts her head so she can look up into your eyes without lifting from her resting place. Her brows are furrowed.

“Trying again?”  

The weight of her beautiful eyes on you almost makes you change the subject. These conversations are so much easier without that layer of intimacy. But you’ve started something and you’ll be damned if you don’t finish it. 

“To be parents.” You whisper. 

“I’m a little past due on that, baby.” Her smile is self-deprecating. 

“I’m not.” 

“You never wanted to carry. I remember that much.” 

“That was then.” You continue smoothing through her hair, “Now… If you want to try again, I’ll do it. I want to do it.” 

You can’t decipher the look in her eyes. She doesn’t pull away, but she’s tense. 

“We don’t need to decide right now. We have time.” 

She nods, “Alright.” 

“You’ll still be daddy, even if you aren’t my baby-daddy.” 

“That was terrible.” 

It doesn’t stop her from grinning, nor does it stop you from laughing. Something in the tension eases. You can’t lean down and kiss her like this, so you press a kiss to the pads of your fingers, and press them to her lips. She nips at them playfully. 

The quiet is nice, but you can feel the cold settling into your bones. You need to be back in a heated car before you get sick. 

“When is your shift over?” 

“In a few hours.” 

You nod, figuring out what time she’ll come home and how it fits into your schedule, “I have nothing after work if you want me to make good on those orgasms I owe you.” 

“I look forward to it.” 

It takes some time, but you and Agnes manage to untangle yourselves and worm your way out of the back seat. She sits, keeping you wrapped in her coat, until the inside of your own car is nice and warm. That earns her a few lingering kisses. 

She trails you on the drive home before speeding off to do god knows what during the last few hours of her shift. And when you fall asleep—already feeling sore—an eagerness sets in your chest of what awaits. With an end, a new beginning. 

[amoeganism]

UNFORTUNATELY INTERESTED michael kaiser

That weird regular with blond and blue hair stopped showing up to the cafe you work at and coping by watching every clip you find of him online isn't enough. Lucky for you, he's also a weirdo freak who missed you.

tags: birthday special!! crack, loser x loser, ness doesnt ask questions, ness third wheels, ness STAND UP, mentions of circumcisions if you dont fuck with that, reader is a freak, michael is a freak, it cancels out (no it doesnt), 2.6k words of slop, i'm lazy and am going to nap now

A man named Michael orders two drinks from your cafe each morning at seven. It’s a simple order of a mug of hot black coffee and a to-go order of black tea. He sits down at a table farthest from the entrance but still next to a large window pane, sipping on his coffee until it’s gone. Then, he’ll place the empty mug on the shelf with all the other dishes to be washed and take his tea with him, disappearing until the following morning. He isn’t the only morning regular that you encounter but the blond and blue mullet along with the tattoos of intertwining blue rose vines are intriguingly beautiful; every person has a uniqueness intangible by another but Michael’s haunting blue eyes leaves you with uncomfortable curiosity that’s seemingly impossible to be satiated. 

He stops showing up three months after his first visit. It kind of freaks you out since you had just come to terms with how you’ve been anticipating his appearance every morning for you to observe him like a scientist observing bacteria under a microscope. Part of you assumes it’s because he caught onto your weird staring and finally rationalized that there’s a creepy barista that’s a little too interested in his ritual of blowing his piping hot coffee four times before drinking or how they’ve caught onto the way he delicately trails his fingertips around the ceramic rim of the mug between every sip. Fortunately for your pride, your question as to why he disappeared was answered by a viral post on your social media feed of your more interesting customer shirtless and calling a group of teens dumb, ugly pieces of shit or something like that. You laughed at the clip before realizing that you really did look forward to seeing him again. 

It freaks you out a little bit when a different man shows up at seven in the morning ordering the exact same thing Michael did: a black coffee and black tea but this time, they’re both to-go. He gives his name as Alexis and you can’t help but think his face looks rather familiar. As he waits for his order, he scrolls on his phone and furiously types something before perking up when you call his name.

“Thank you!” he chirps, putting his phone into his pants pocket. “My teammate really likes it here. He asked me to get this for him because he can’t make it. Uh, his name is Michael?”

Your mind clicks into place at the mention of your former customer’s name. The man in front of you is Alexis Ness, the funny little guy that Michael, or rather Michael Kaiser, would exclusively pass to on the field. You’d rather die than admit that you spent a little too long stalking any and all videos of the man you could find—his awful personality was oddly entertaining. “Yeah! He used to come by every morning before falling off the grid.”

You were tempted to ask about Blue Lock, but you didn’t want to expose yourself as a freakish stalker that does background checks on their customers as a hobby. Before you can fall victim to temptation, Ness pushes the glass door open with his back and leaves with a short “have a nice day!”, leaving you with a new guy to dig up info on. 

The next morning at seven, you expected to see Ness return to order drinks for Michael, but you were greeted with two men instead of one. One of which, being Michael himself. His hair was put up with a gold claw clip rather than let down and he mindlessly nodded along to the nonsense rambling of Ness. The shirt he wore was loose around the collar, exposing a blue rose tattooed onto his neck and collarbone, a painful yet beautiful placement. Each line and stretch of color was beginning to bloom into his skin as it settled and spread, leaving slightly blurred edges as a result of aging. You had read that he was the same age as you, nineteen, and that made you wonder when he had gotten it done.

“Good morning,” you greeted with a small smile, standing in front of the register with your hands in front, ready to take their order. Directing your attention to the blond man, you attempt to start some kind of small talk, “It’s been a while since you’ve been here. It’s good to see you back. Black coffee here and black tea to-go?”

“I’m impressed that you remembered my order,” he teased, reaching into his pocket for a black wallet and pulling out a credit card. “Have I really made such a big impression on you?”

Slightly irked but also amused, you take his card to slide on the side of the register. “You came here every day for months straight. I think it’d be embarrassing for you if I didn’t remember who you are. It’s not often someone like you comes around and stays.”

“Someone like me?” Michael asks with a raised brow. 

“Y’know, tatted up and choppy, dyed hair. You kinda remind me of a peacock; I fuck with it.”

“Nice to know someone appreciates it,” with an exaggerated sigh, he combs his fingers through a loose lock of hair framing his face. “It’s a shame people tend to be so boring and unappreciative of what I bring. Peacocks you say? When I cut my hair, I can put the scraps together and make a custom peacock feather just for you.”

“Oh…I’m so glad to hear that you’re creative and confident? I think this is why you’re a soccer player and not a business owner…or pickup artist…or a customer service worker…or a respected individual.”

The mention of his athletic career catches Michael off guard for a brief moment, ignoring everything else you said like a guy stuck in delusion limbo with selective hearing, but he was quick to recover from the initial shock. “You know about me? I never knew you were such a fan. Do you want me to sign a napkin for you? I don’t offer this to just anyone.”

“I’m good, you can leave my napkins alone. And I think it’s reasonable to see what happened to my former superfan.”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, I was here for the superb drinks, not you.”

“Ouch? Be careful what you say, I’m the one making your order.”

As Michael laughed at your interaction, you suddenly remember that Ness was still there, having long been done with reading the menu. Whatever embarrassment you had was replaced by judgement with how Ness was perfectly content and joyful about being left out like a cuck. Athletes are weird, you conclude. 

“What can I get for you?” you direct towards Ness, opening up a new order.

“Um, I’ll get a cold brew to-go.”

“Sounds good! Cash or card?”

Shortly after, all three drinks were made and you called both Michael and Ness to the pickup area where Ness grabbed a straw and found a table for the two to sit at. Michael, however, stayed behind, not even bothering to touch his two drinks before talking to you. 

“What time does this place close?”

“Six in the afternoon every day except for some special holidays where we either close early or don’t open at all. I can never remember which is which so I bother the owner for every one.”

“Is it just you who takes the opening shifts?”

“Yeah, I work the first hour alone and then my coworkers come in. I get off at three so it’s not too bad ‘cause I get the afternoons and evenings to myself.”

“That’s nice,” Michael muses, slowly nodding to himself. He slides his coffee over to himself and looks at you with a sly smile. “So if I were to take you out for dinner, it wouldn’t be a problem?”

“If you’re gonna kill me? Yeah that’d kinda suck, but if you’re talking about a date…sure,” you laugh at your unfunny joke. Thankfully, Michael either also shares a bad sense of humor, or laughs at you and is mocking you. If it’s the latter, you’ll find a way to get back at him (and it doesn’t have to be ethical). “Um, do you want my number or…?”

“That’d be wonderful, thank you.”

You quickly grab a ballpoint pen and scribble your contact information on a napkin from next to the sugar and sweetener packets, handing it to Michael. His slender hand brushes yours, sending goosebumps down your arm from his cold skin. Outwardly, you don’t show your surprise at the unexpected sensation but the rush it brought made you embarrassingly giddy. 

His sharp blue eyes crease along with a teasing smirk on his smooth lips. “And here I was thinking I’d be the one signing a napkin for you. How nice of you to prove me wrong, love.”

“Already starting with the pet names? That’s bold.”

“Should I stop?”

“Do whatever you want. It’s kinda funny how eager you are to be with me.”

“I can’t deny that.”

Michael carefully folds the napkin with your phone number, placing it in his wallet and meets Ness at the table he chose, bringing his beverages along with him. It didn’t take long for the pair to finish and leave, but not without Michael sending you a sly wink your way. The gesture was kind of goofy and if it were anyone else, would give you second hand embarrassment from its corniness. From how your heart skipped a beat, you silently cursed him out for bypassing your bitterness and working his way into managing to fluster you. 

—

“Hey, a customer asked for my number this morning,” you tell your coworker, Yui, as she ties an apron around her waist. Her brown eyes lit up at the news as she whipped her head around to face you. One of the first traits you learned about her was her nosiness and although it could easily become aggravating, you had always found it entertaining, making her one of your favorite people to work with. Her schedule, unlike yours, alternated between working morning shifts and afternoon shifts, making you see her a couple days a week. Yui finishes her uniform by putting on a baseball cap with the cafe logo on it, something you learned that she would take off within an hour from how sweaty it’d make her.

“Who?! Did you give it to them?! Did they text you yet?! That’s so exciting unless they're creepy and weird and in that case, I hope they get pushed in front of a subway,” Yui fires at you, her eyebrows raised with intrigue. “Well?”

“It’s the soccer guy that I told you about. The one who used to come here every day and then dropped off the face of the Earth.”

“Oh! Michael Kaiser? Wait—he asked you out?! Holy shit. That’s insane! Did you say yes? Did he text you yet? You should text first—wait you can’t because he’s the one with your number.”

“I guess he technically asked me out? I mean, he just said ‘hey, what if I took you out for dinner’. If he doesn’t text me I’m going to kill him.”

“Fair, fair.”

You got a notification from an unknown number on your way home, asking you if you were the barista at your cafe. Relief flooded your body, overriding the tension you didn’t know you had. After shooting a text back, confirming your identity and asking if the message was from who you think it is, it takes five seconds too long for him to reply and in that time you consider buying a pair of scissors for a surprise circumcision. 

MICHAEL: How do you feel about 6 P.M. tomorrow?

YOU: fine with me

YOU: where should we meet

MICHAEL: I can pick you up

MICHAEL: Consider it a surprise

YOU: can you even drive

YOU: are you going to kidnap me

MICHAEL: NO

MICHAEL: PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

YOU: omfg you want me so bad

YOU: [address]

YOU: https://www.wikihow.com/Neuter-a-Dog (this is a warning)

An alarm indicating you have ten minutes before Michael picks you up blares from your phone but you stay put, stupidly blinking  into your vanity mirror as if it’s going to do anything to your appearance or do anything to turn your phone off. The gum you were chewing served as a stress reliever and something to make sure your breath wasn’t rancid but it quickly turned into garbage bin gunk as soon as you bit your tongue. Everything was starting to piss you off and you suppose you’d start with silencing your phone. 

Even though you’ve worn this outfit before, you twirl around like a dog chasing its own tail, trying to find any uncut tags or a seam that magically broke in the few minutes it spent putting it on. Several stabs to your ego outweighed the taste of blood in your mouth as you realized you were losing your cool over a guy named Michael so in an attempt to calm yourself down, you disregard any advice of breathing exercises and imagine Michael picking his nose while loudly grunting as he takes a shit. To your utmost horror, you don’t get the ick.

Exactly one minute before the clock hits six, you get a text from Michael saying that he’s outside your apartment. You stumble to get your keys, making sure your bag and everything you need is with you. Despite not spending any time wondering what his car would look like, the obnoxious electric blue car had you blinking several times and pinching yourself to confirm if what you’re seeing is real. One part of you feared that the literal beacon would attract a violent mob of paparazzi or creepy fans and it’ll end up in all your private information being leaked with a box of shit on your doorstep but another self-absorbed part of you thought the gesture was flattering and that deep down, you were thoroughly enjoying the attention. Match made in hell or whatever. 

“Nice car, you planning on totaling it anytime soon?” you ask, sliding into the passenger’s seat.

“Not yet, unless you’d like me to. I can put a blindfold on and press the gas as hard as I can if you ask,” he gleefully fantasizes. It’s a little cute how smug he is talking about ways he would cause a car accident for you. Maybe chivalry isn’t dead or maybe you’re both doing the world a favor by going off the market. “I’m a man of many talents, after all.”

“Wow. I’ve never been more attracted to a man in my life.”

You don’t know if Michael’s playing along to your deadpan comment or if he’s choosing to ignore it with the way he drives all the way to the restaurant with a smile on his face. The sight of him with such a proud expression on his face combined with the misplaced confidence is embarrassing but endearing. If you were to ask yourself why you decided to smile along with him, you’d tell yourself it’s because you’re making fun of him in your head, but in your heart, you know it’s for a different reason—one you’re too stubborn to admit. 

To spend months observing Michael Kaiser only for him to disappear without a trace, leaving you longing for a reunion you thought only you would anticipate is more shameful than admitting to yourself you had fallen for him first. As Michael parks his car and extends a hand out for you and opens your door, extending a tattooed hand out for you, you suppose you’ll share your affections with him the same time you share it with yourself. 

[nakylvr]

— CRAZY

sophia laforteza x fem!reader

summary: sophia's first official mission assigned with you doesn't go exactly as planned

warnings/tags: language, violence, kate bishop!sophia, yelena belova!reader, one sided enemies to lovers

part 1

another part hehe lmk if yall want more 😋

"hey, pretty."

sophia closes her eyes and clenches her jaw to keep herself from snapping just at the sound of your voice and presence beside her. after she was informed you would now be accompanying her on every mission she was assigned due to her mentor being forced into early retirement, she was not happy in the slightest. she was used to clint, she had been his apprentice for a while now. she was a sociable person, but she did not like you. scratch that, she hated you.

"hello," she says calmly, opening her eyes and finally looking at you.

sophia forgot everything she was going to say when she looked at you, feeling the air get sucked from her lungs at what you were wearing. compared to seeing you last week when you broke into her apartment and were in casual clothes, seeing you in your suit had her face turning red without realizing. it was essentially the same as black widow's suit, only for it was white and had a lot more holsters with guns and knives alike in them. the night vision goggles were an addition she didn't expect either as they sat on top of your head so you could see her clearly.

"what? cat got your tongue, pretty?" you tease, a smile growing on your face.

"shut up." sophia turns her head toward the warehouse you were standing in front of. "do you need a briefing on what we're doing?"

"nah." you shake your head. "go in and eliminate the bad guys." you put your night vision goggles over your eyes.

"what?" sophia looks at you confused. "no, we're-"

however, she was cut off from her sentence by you grappling to the building and zipping up to the second floor, her jaw hanging open at you just leaving. "oh boy," she mumbles to herself, putting her visors over her eyes. "this is gonna be a long night."

landing in a room on the second floor, you stay low to the ground and look around. you could hear movement and voices downstairs, but you weren't close enough to hear what they were saying.

"where are you?" sophia's voice comes through the earpiece hooked around your ear.

"second floor," you answer quietly, standing up and starting to walk around. "they're all downstairs."

"you're sure?" sophia questions.

"considering i haven't gotten shot yet, yeah. i'm sure," you reply. "where are you?"

"back entrance. i count seven of them."

"how many can you take?" you carefully open the door of the room, stealthily making your way down the hall to the stairwell. you can see all of the men clearly now, and with your night vision goggles you can easily spot where they specifically are. "oh, and are we supposed to kill them?"

"try not to kill them," sophia tells you. "we're supposed to just extract the weapons. there's no need to kill unless it's necessary."

"and what do we deem necessary?" you ask, pulling out one of your knives and readying it in your hand to throw. "because if you didn't notice, they all have guns. three have sub machine guns and four have regular pistols. this isn't going to be a no-kill situation i don't think."

"whatever you're thinking, don't do-"

you don't let sophia finish her sentence, seeing one of the men look at you and starting to raise his gun before you threw your knife right in the center of his chest. immediately the other men noticed due to the scream, and they all started looking around for you.

"god damnit," sophia curses under her breath while securing the arrow on her bow. "fine. shoot to kill."

a smile forms on your face at her words. "don't need to tell me twice." you pull your pistol from your holster, aiming at the head of one of the men. "just give me the okay, pretty."

"you already have it, dumbass. now shoot." sophia rolls her eyes, peering through the window she was next to.

closing your right eye, you pull the trigger and the bullet lands right in the center of his head. "bullseye," you snicker. the men turn in your direction, making your eyes widen slightly, but the smile on your face grows. "alright then." you pull another knife out with your free hand.

as soon as one of the men spot you and raises his gun, an arrow comes flying and lands in his chest right where the heart is. he barely managed to get a small scream out before he landed on the ground, making the group start averting their attention to the back entrance.

you slowly start making your way down the stairs, but when you step on a certain one it makes a loud creaking noise and a few of the men turn back to you. "shit," you curse. they quickly raise their guns and start shooting rapidly, making you jump over the rail of the stairs and land on the ground to duck behind the wall. bullets fly through the wood of the wall, and you're stuck until they stop firing, knowing better than to try and shoot back in the midst of countless bullets coming in your direction.

"jesus christ," sophia grumbles under her breath the second you make noise on the stairs. thankfully, it did help her get inside quietly and hide behind one of the crates, peeking around the corner with an arrow aiming at one of the men. without hesitation she lets go, and the arrow flies, hitting him in the head.

once the firing slowed to a stop, you quickly get up from behind the wall and into the open, where you immediately throw your knife and start shooting with your other hand before ducking back behind the wall. reloading your gun, you hear footsteps start approaching you.

"a little help would be nice, y'know," you say quietly, another knife already in your hand.

you don't get a response from sophia, instead you hear the whizzing of an arrow fly by that hits the man walking towards you, the body landing next to you on the ground.

two left. then you'd be out of here. this should be easy.

peeking around the corner, you can see the the remaining two heading towards sophia's direction. you move around the body next to you, sneaking closer to the two who's backs were faced towards you, barely being able to see sophia's bow above the crate ready to shoot. moving quicker, you stand up straight and stab the first man in the neck, holding him against your chest while shooting at the second one.

dropping the body in your arm, it falls to the ground beneath you as you take a few deep breaths. "well, that was easy!" you say, putting your gun back in its holster.

"you almost died, idiot." sophia stands up, taking the arrow out and putting it away in the bag on her back.

"but you saved me." you smile at her. "so it wasn't that–"

you're interrupted by a gunshot ringing past your ears. the next few moments felt like a blur. hearing the shot, turning and raising your pistol, shooting the man, sophia on the ground bleeding out.

"sophia! shit, shit, shit!" you crouch down and pick her up bridal style, looking around frantically before quickly running out of the warehouse.

your first thought is go to HQ, but that's too far. your second option is go to the hospital, but you were explicitly told to not go to any public hospital. your last option was your apartment, which wasn't too far if you ran quick enough. so that's where you started running to.

sophia could barely process what was going on until she opened her eyes and realized she was being carried in your arms while you ran down the streets to your apartment. she could see you talking, but she couldn't hear what you were saying, the blood rushing to her head that felt heavy as she laid limp in your arms. she could make out a few words. 'you're going to be okay' was the most she could see you repeating to either her or yourself for reassurance.

you kept glancing down at the woman in your arms, blood seeping into your white suit as you ran faster. her eyes were open, that was a good sign. that meant you still had some time.

getting to your apartment, after fumbling with the key for a moment you manage to get inside, shutting the door with your foot. you hurry over to your couch, carefully laying sophia down on it before rushing into the bathroom to get your first aid kit and other supplies. getting back to sophia on the couch, you crouch down beside her.

"hey, you're probably gonna hate me for this but if i don't get this out you will bleed out," you say, opening the first aid kit and your small bag of other medical equipment. "but thankfully i know what i'm doing. because of being shot multiple times." you flash a small smile at her. once you had everything laid out on your coffee table next to you, you look back at sophia. "will you let me help you?"

sophia, who's eyes were hardly open at this point, just nods her head to your words, not really hearing them clearly. glancing around, she didn't know where she was. but she didn't really care at this particular moment right now. she didn't even notice you unzipping her jacket and pulling her shirt up so you could see the wound.

"alright. bite this." you put a bunched-up towel near her mouth, and she would question you if she wasn't on the verge of passing out, so she just bites down onto it, anxiously waiting for whatever you were going to do. "i'm really sorry if this hurts."

unfortunately, the bullet didn't go all the way through, which meant you had to struggle with getting it out of her. which then you had to clean the wound and bandage it up. by the time you were done, sophia had already passed out from the pain. but she was still breathing, which was good news.

after changing out of your suit, you walk back into the living room and sit on the floor in front of the coffee table, letting out a long sigh and dragging your hands over your face. "i'm gonna get killed for this," you mumble to yourself.

when sophia wakes up roughly ten minutes later, she looks around in confusion before her eyes land on you sitting on the ground on your phone. she tries to sit upright, but instantly feels a sharp pain and lets out a gasp making her lay back down. your head jerks up at the sound, quickly putting your phone down.

"hey," you say. "you probably shouldn't move a whole lot."

"where am i?" sophia asks, her eyes glancing around at the decor on the walls and the room.

"my place," you answer. "i didn't know where else to go. it was the closest place and i had the equipment to get the bullet out."

sophia's eyes land back on you, her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "you got–" she stops herself, shaking her head. "why would you do that?"

"i couldn't exactly have you dying on the first mission i'm assigned with you," you shrug. "i don't want to get fired already."

despite your words, sophia can remember the look on your face when you were running with her in your arms, the words you kept saying to her. why were you acting like it wasn't a big deal now?

she nods her head slightly, looking back up at the ceiling. "thank you," she says. "i would've probably died."

"so you're admitting you needed me?" you reply, a smile growing on your face.

sophia rolls her eyes at your words, seeing your smile out of the corner of her sight. "whatever."

"it's okay, i know," you chuckle, standing up. "you should probably stay the night, you can't really get far right now," you tell her while walking around the coffee table to stand in front of her.

"are you serious?" she looks at you like you're crazy. "i think i'm fine." she shakes her head and tries to sit up again to feel the intense pain return, groaning quietly and slowly going back down on her back.

you watch her and let out a quiet sigh. "well?" you say, hands on your hips. "do you want me to get you to an actual comfortable bed or do you wanna stay on this shitty couch?"

sophia doesn't look at you, still staring at the ceiling as she bites her tongue to keep herself from saying something she shouldn't. "fine," she grumbles softly.

"that's what i thought." you lean down, carefully picking her up off the couch, her arms wrapping around your neck as you held her.

walking to your bedroom, you already had the covers pulled back on one side. you set her down on the bed, then taking a step back and standing there awkwardly. "uh, just holler for me if you need anything. i'll be on the couch," you tell her, turning around and starting to walk away.

you're stopped when sophia grabs your wrist, having you turn back around to look at her.

"you can sleep here too, it's your house," she says.

"i mean, i could, but you should–"

"just get in the fucking bed, yn." she cuts you off, looking at you with a look you hadn't seen on her before. her eyes not staring at you with the normal seriousness they always had, her expression not looking like she wanted to punch you in the face. not to mention her saying you're actually name for the first time, but you tried to push past that.

"okay." you reluctantly agree. walking to the other side of the bed, you climb in and keep a reasonable distance between you and sophia, your arms resting at your sides awkwardly.

"what the hell are you, a virgin? jesus christ," sophia sighs irritably, grabbing your arm and tugging you closer. she slowly rolls over onto her side to look at you now that you're closer to her. "thank you for helping me," she says quietly.

your body tenses up when she pulls you closer to her, moving along with it and glancing over at her when she speaks. "it's no problem." you shake your head. "i couldn't have you dying on me."

sophia nods. "right, because you would get fired. not because you were freaking out repeating i was gonna be okay or anything."

your face flushes at her words, not realizing that she had seen you panicking while running back to the apartment. "well, when you put it that way i sound like a idiot," you mumble.

"you are," she replies. "but, you saved me, and i appreciate that."

"of course." you nod. "don't worry about it. let's say we're even now?"

"mm," sophia hums, pretending to think about it for a moment. "yeah, i think we're even," she says, moving closer to you and draping her arm over you, situating her head between your neck and shoulder. "if you let me stay like this, then i'll forget about you trying to kill me."

your breath catches in your throat at her actions, a shiver going down your spine as she whispers against your skin, tickling you slightly. looking down at her, her eyes are closed and she looks peaceful, content. it had been a while since you'd been in this position, even if it was under good circumstances, causing your heart to beat faster trying to keep yourself together.

"you can stay like this for as long as you want," you respond. "i don't mind."

all that comes from sophia is a short hum and nothing else, and when you look down again, she's asleep. a small smile forms on your face at the sight, and you move a little bit so she could be more comfortable, resting your arm under your head while looking up at the ceiling. the blades spin slowly, and you find yourself finally feeling tired for once in a while. closing your eyes, you let out a short breath, allowing yourself to fall asleep now that everything was calm and quiet.

[scnderlands]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀THREE’S A CROWD — black noir + homelander

PAIRINGS — black noir x female reader x homelander

CONTENT WARNINGS / TAGS — 18+ ONLY NSFW + DARK CONTENT , threesome , dubcon , anal , p in v , slight anal fingering , forced kissing , hair pulling , noncon voyeurism ,

KAI’S THOUGHTS — so I’ve had this written in my drafts for awhile and finally decided to post it, I wrote it one night with a lot of THOUGHTS and just how bad I need these two !! wrote with season 2-3 in mind !

You and Black Noir had a thing for a few months now, and as much as you wanted it to be a secret, you knew it wasn’t. There wasn’t much that you could keep to yourself while working at Vought, no matter how much you tried — someone always knew something about someone, it was just the way things were.

Anytime you and he wanted to meet up, he always came over to your place, somehow scaling up to come in through your apartment window like it was nothing. You weren’t sure how it ended up being that you were friends with benefits, after one time where you argued (very one-sidedly) you ended up hate fucking — now it’s just a regular thing, a few times a week.

For the first time since you began hooking up, you were in Black Noir’s room, and he wasted no time throwing you on the bed and fucking the life out of you. There was no exact communication to what had made him feel this way, but he’d just come back from being sent somewhere so you guessed he just had a lot of pent up energy.

His hand covered your mouth as he pounded into you, a feeble attempt to quieten you down, to stop anyone from hearing. He knew there was no point, after all Homelander had superhuman hearing, and it wouldn’t surprise Noir if he was in his room listening down to you getting fucked. Black Noir could tell Homelander had a thing for you, the way he watched you when you were working, the little smirk he’d pull when you bent down, how often he’d go out of his way to talk to you — he wasn’t subtle, but you still had no clue.

Noir had his masked face buried in the crook of your neck, his hips moving into you at a steady pace, getting as deep as he could into you with each thrust. You had your eyes closed and your hands white-knuckled on his shoulders, muffled moans behind his hand.

Noir suddenly stopped all his movements and you felt him shift away from you.

“Don’t stop on my account.” Homelander stood not too far from the bed, his voice was stern, almost demanding.

“Homelander…” you stared at him wide-eyed, your hands instantly moving from Noir’s shoulders and over your bare chest.

Homelander didn’t move at all except for cocking his head slightly to the side, that usual look of anger stricken across his face, it was obvious he was upset that all the action had stopped after he made an effort to get in the room to see it.

“Noir, move.”

Every muscle in Noir’s body tense up while still on top of you, even without being able to see his face through his mask, you could practically see the anger coming from him. Even though, with every fibre of his being, he didn’t want to move, but nonetheless he obeyed. He knew better than to get on the wrong side of Homelander, especially when you were here and could be put in danger because of a decision he makes.

Black Noir shuffled off you and dropped beside you, making an effort to cover you as subtly as he could with the blanket before doing so. But it didn’t take Homelander a second of thought to rip the blanket from the bed and throw it halfway across the room, leaving your naked body fully exposed to his gaze. His eyes scanned your body with a gleeful look, and when you went to squeeze your legs shut, he responded by waggling his finger side to side, letting out a tut as he did so.

“Perfect…” he smiled to himself, seemingly proud of his work, “now Noir, get under her, I want to see you fucking her while she’s looking at me.”

“W-what?” You felt a wave of embarrassment and fear consume your entire body in an instant.

Noir looked over to you, some part of him wishing for some guidance from you, but he knew that wasn’t fair — after all, not even he was standing up to Homelander in the moment, so how could he expect you to do anything as a normal human?

Without wasting anymore time, he slid under you and pulled you back so you were flush against his chest.

“Well, what’re you waiting for?” Homelander stood with his arms across his chest, an impatient tap of his foot echoing around the large room.

With an internal sigh, Black Noir realigned himself with your slick hole, slowly pushing himself into you until he couldn’t move anymore, then slowly moving his hips back away from you.

Through half-lidded eyes you could see how Homelander smiled to himself, how much he was enjoying watching the way your cunt gripped around Noir’s cock, your slick dripping down your ass and creating a mess between you and Noir’s suit. It was obvious when he started enjoying it too much, his bulge growing more and more obvious behind his tight pants.

“F-fuck, Noir.” Your back arched up and you couldn’t suppress your moans any longer.

“No.” Your pleas were interrupted nearly as quick as they left your parted lips, “You’ll moan my name, not his.”

And yet again you could feel how Noir tensed up underneath you, that wave of anger spreading through his body with a near visceral action. You slyly reached your hand to your hip and placed it over the top of Noir’s, intertwining your fingers with his.

Noir kept his hips moving against all wants, the tip of his cock repeatedly hitting that spot deep inside of you, constantly forcing pretty little moans from you.

“Yeah, just like that…” Homelander laughed as he pumped his cock in his hand, unable to just stand still and watch, he was so hard it tittered on painful.

Noir despised the idea of Homelander seeing you so vulnerable, in such a position that he put you in by dragging you into this room rather than just waiting a couple hours to visit you at your place. There was perhaps a sense of jealously that washed over him, a need to gloat, some primal instinct that made him want to prove his claim over you — to have Homelander know that even though he was watching, he wasn’t the one touching you, wasn’t the one making you moan like that even if it were his name rolling from your tongue.

He brought his gloved finger to your clit, rubbing fast and rough circles over and over as his hips hammered into you, forcing you over the edge he knew you were so close to.

“Noi—…Homelander, fuck.”

That was his tipping point, hearing his name from your lips was the end of him, the end of watching and not doing, “turn her over.”

Black Noir pulled out and you groaned from the emptiness, he carefully flipped you around so your chest was pressed firmly against his. As soon as he had your legs spread either side of his body, you felt the weight on the bottom of the bed shift from were Homelander was kneeling on it. His hands ghosted over the fat of your ass before finally grabbing it, groping and kneading like he’d been waiting forever to do.

He wet his finger and slowly pushed it in to you, barely moving at first as if to test the waters, and when you didn’t seem too effected he finally moved again. A part of you hated feeling him touch you, his fingers pushing in and out, but there was something in the thought of having both their cocks inside of you at once — the way they’d both fill you up so well, stretching you out in ways you never had been before.

Homelander moved his fingers in rhythm with the way Noir fucked into you, and even though he was desperate to feel you around his cock he knew better than to try and fuck you before warming you up — after all, he knew how pathetically delicate and fragile humans were.

The sounds of your moans mixed with the sound of your cunt was becoming too much for him, his cock left untouched and desperate from friction was unbearable for him. And at this point he didn’t care whether you could be prepared more or not. Homelander spat on his hand as rubbed it up and down his cock, a poor attempt at some form of lubrication before lining himself up with your ass.

“Wait, w-wait.” You whimpered out as he slowly bullied his way into you, stretching you out in a way that took your breath away until he bottomed out.

For a moment he stayed still, allowing you a moment to adjust to the intrusion, but the more he could feel Noir moving, the more riled up he became.

Black Noir wasn’t happy about the idea of Homelander fucking you too, and you were too high with pleasure to even care anymore. Homelander on the other hand had a secret point to prove, he wanted you to know he could fuck you better than Noir could, better than any man could for that matter of fact.

As much as he hated the idea of having a crush, he couldn’t deny it to himself any longer. You plagued his thoughts day and night, daydreaming of fucking you when he was in a boring meeting or some stupid talk he had to give — even getting to the point he’d be having wet dreams about you, and how he’d have to fuck his hand when he woke up, all while fantasising about you.

“Fuck…” Homelander groaned to himself as he felt you twitching around him, another orgasm about to rip through you while both their cocks slammed into you at the same time.

The faster they got, the louder you moaned, and the more worried you became about someone else hearing you. But neither of the men cared, instead they were having some silent competition between themselves about who could make you cum the hardest, and they both had a point to make — just so happens you were their referee.

“I—I c-can’t,” your nails dug into Noir’s suit, your head buried in the crook of his neck.

Anger flowed through Homelander as he watched the way you gripped and snuggled into him, how you were moaning in his ear. It wasn’t fair, Homelander knew he should be the one under you, the one you leaned on and begged to let you cum.

“Come here,” Homelander grabbed a fist full of your hair and pulled you back, forcing your head to the side just enough for him to lock lips with you.

The kisses were sloppy and breathy, you could barely formulate a thought and it made it near impossible to kiss him properly. He didn’t care though, he was just happy to finally kiss you, to have his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth while he was balls deep inside of you. He stared down towards Noir, a hint of smugness in his eyes while he continued to kiss you.

It pained Noir to see Homelander doing the one thing he’s never done, and probably never would do, and Homelander knew that. But it only fueled the fire of their feud even more, and Noir slowly trailed his hands up your body before stopping at your tits, his rough gloved fingers tracing over your hardened nipples. You groaned into the kiss and twitched into Noir’s grasp more as he rubbed and teased at you.

Even though he might not be able to kiss you yet, he knew everything you liked, he knew how to please you in ways that Homelander couldn’t even imagine.

“You’re so fucking filthy. You know that, huh?” Homelander hissed at you as his hips stuttered slightly, but he was going to hold out as long as he could.

Tears beaded in your eyes as another orgasm shook through you, the overstimulation becoming almost too much for you to handle anymore. The feeling of your cunt clenching around Noir was too much, his rhythm becoming sloppy and uneven as he finally finished, making sure to cum deep inside your pretty little pussy as he did.

Homelander chuckled as Noir finished, somehow he felt triumphant, as if he won the battle between them by lasting longer.

Noir stayed inside of you, his hands still roaming your body and pleasuring you in other ways, not wanting to leave you with just Homelander.

“Moan my name.”

“Home…lander—“ you could barely get your words out as he pulled tighter on your hair, forcing your head further back so he could see your face.

After hearing his name a few more times, it sent him over the edge. His hips juttering and his cum coating your insides, his entire body quivered which made him practically land on you as he rolled off to the side.

There was a slight relief and sadness at the emptiness when they both slid out of you, and you fell back down against Noir. His hand ran up and down your back, while Homelander stared up at the ceiling, trying to regain control of his breathing.

“Well, that was a surprise, wouldn’t you say?” Homelander looked over to you with a shit eating grin, “we should do it again.”