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#will scream about it happily for hours
jelzorz · 1 year
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I’m reading your newest story for Soren/Opeli, and I’m absolutely loving it…! But the part where Ez and Rayla kind of gang up on her about the lessons, got me thinking….
What if, alternatively, later, they find Opeli some kind of magical artifact and teach her some spells…? She wouldn’t be frontline material by any means, but what Primal do you think would suit her best, then…?
Oh boy GB have I got the answer for you
If i had to pick one for opeli, it would be the sun. Canonically, the sun is all about the truth, justice, and judgement ("the light will decide"/"the light will decide your fate") which very much aligns with Lady Justice who I assumed was the closest the human kingdoms got to a deity of sorts and kind of worshipped for moral guidance? I made some assumptions and had to come up with basically a religion when I was writing the fruit and while Callum and Ez are definitely Jewish coded, I wasn't sure if that extended to Opeli and her clerical duties also HOWEVER
Everyone loves to discuss Xadian lore and magic but no one talks about what lore exists on the human side of the border and how that pertains to their beliefs, religions, etc so to me, while the kids can very much be represented by primal sources (sky, moon, earth, sun for Callum, Rayla, Ez, and Soren respectively), to me Opeli is a representation of the lore and belief systems on the human side, and thus I don't associate her with a primal source at all—I associate her with Lady Justice herself.
If you read the fruit closely enough, I actually sprinkled it in there as a treat to me:
She is the eldest of five, all girls, and while her sisters giggled and tittered and fawned over the concept of romance, responsibility fell to her to take care of everything else. She has always been judge and jury; the mediator of conflicts, the distributor of food and money and her parents' wills, taking little for herself so she might have more to divide between her sisters.
And then
Opeli officiates to thank the goddesses—Justice, Mercy, Virtue, Light, and the Harvest—for peace across their lands and for the fruit on their tables.
You may have also noticed that the series the fruit and the seed belong to is called Lady Justice and the Sun, which is once again, a treat to me and a reference to another sorpeli wip I have in my drafts of the same name which talks/discusses the myths humans developed after they were banished from the east:
"This isn't the story Queen Janai tells."
"It wouldn't be. It's an old human story. We only started to tell it after we were banished from the East."
"Kind of wild that it's still about the Primal Sources though." "Not really." Opeli dusts her hands and sets the iron poker in the stand by the hearth. "They have always been sources of power, even to humans. Presumably we took some of those stories with us when we were pushed to the West. Some books even claim that the Stars were our first gods. I'm not so well versed in them, but I believe those stories say that it was they who gave humans access to magic."
Lady Justice and the Sun (the wip) is supposed to be a retelling of Lady Justice and the Sun (the myth by me) that explicitly uses Opeli and Soren to represent Lady Justice (the human deity) and the Sun (the primal source). (I sprinkled a lot of Soren as the sun into the fruit also which was not done on purpose, but I'll take the credit because sleep deprived me is a genius).
Anyway, was this the answer you wanted? Absolutely not, but I do genuinely think that if Opeli got power from somewhere, it's from Lady Justice herself, rather than a primal source.
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tardis--dreams · 5 months
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Some of those doctors make hating oat milk their entire personality. I hate them. Cannot pretend to find them funny or like i give a shit. Fucking pretentious assholes
#also my colleague (the girl i had my shift with) is the exact opposite of me in all aspects. asked me if I'd ever worked in customer service#because i couldn't care less about being fake friendly to assholes and don't care if they like the service or not#like bitch those people don't have any other choice but drink our fucking coffee it's not like I'm competing with anyone#or like they pay us in any way. i get paid for doing the dumb work i have to do not for stroking some dumb ass doctors' egos#they come out of their rooms once an hour to get coffee and we have the cups on the table and i wouldn't even Think of#HANDING them the cups and smiling sweetly at them and asking 'coffee? tea?? :))'#I'll just assume these grown adults will get their stupid coffee or tea when they want some. it's not like they don't know where it is#(and i AM friendly and smile when someone is coming in our direction but why the fuck do you need to get so disgustingly friendly with them#if someone held up a cup asking if i.want some coffee I'd leave immediately even if i came just for coffee. it's creepy)#anyway. she's nice. I'm not.#there's normal people who will get their coffee and maybe ask if the milk in the little jug is cow milk to which I'll happily reply 'yes#:)'. then there's the other people who see the oat milk and make it clear they are the most insufferable people on the planet#(and i pity their patients so much. not much to choose from i guess but if i had that as a doctor I'd happily just die)#like everyone who took oatmilk could do it without making a fuss about the cow milk on the table. the cow milk lovers could never#'the oat milk is in front of the actual milk. this is unacceptable. i hate such healthy bullshit' lol okay#'OAT milk?? I'll leave this to the horses! THANK GOD you have actual milk!'#my favorite was the one who really took personal offense with its sheer presence. as if it had killed half of his patients lmao#'we had 50 patients with xyz problem. ALL of them drink oat milk. they cannot see the connection. it's really unhealthy'#at this point i just said i didn't care and stopped paying attention and he started complaining to his doctor colleague about how#oat milk is advertised to be healthy and how it's actually the opposite and i just find that very funny compared to the first comment#from that one guy who doesn't like such healthy bullshit. you guys need to find a consensus on the oatmilk issue i think. no one takes you#seriously if you contradict yourself like this. also i couldn't care less about the healthiness of the milk alternative of my choice. bitch.#next week I'll end up killing someone. i hope they all die from their cow milk. (but not the ones who took cow milk and didn't say anything#about the oat milk. they can continue living as they didn't annoy me)#void screams#some of these doctors were actually quite nice (most of them even). one even brought an applicant to us telling her to get some coffee#(which we are not allowed to give to applicants. but i don't care. I'd rather they get something than some of the asshole jury members#who hate oat milk (which is not the issue. the issue is them making it everybody else's issue that they don't like oat milk))
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nny11writes · 2 years
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69 hell yeah
For anyone who wants to play, this is part of the fanfiction writer ask game!
69. What are your favorite fics at the moment?
I'm interpreting this as what are you reading that you love right now.
Number 1, no contest, is Grayskull's Anatomy by ireallyshouldnt_behere!
It's a modern doctor AU that's been ridiculously enjoyable with good ups and downs in the drama department. Waiting for the catradora idiots to TALK since they're exes who are now banging and basically in a relationship again but doing that thing where they don't talk about it and me and Glimmer are sharing a near spiritual bond at the moment. :) It is an explicit fic so keep that in mind if you wanna give it a read, not a lot of sex in it but some in the more recent chapters.
In no particular order after that we've got:
Science Friction by RaptorRed
Another explicit fic that comes with about 30 times the amount of gender questioning, gender identity, and good heap of science scattered in as well. They really did a great job with mixing everything together in a really pleasing way where the pacing always feels just right to my little monkey brain.
Wildcat by Hubris_Plus
An excellent Catra is sent to Beast Island fic, but before the series even starts. Featuring her and Micah making it back to Brightmoon in time for the series, Force Captain Adora, mixed up emotions/feelings from the war, a lot of flashbacks to Beast Island for some great world building, and of course Micah & Catra relationship which I love. Let that man be a dad at anyone he wants to, he deserves it!
Dear Glimmer by @glitrahasconsumedme
HA HA! You thought I wouldn't!??!?! Well I would!!!!!!!!!
Dear Glimmer is a highschool AU glitradora fake dating drama fest where each and every time I think they've figured it out they have not. They are, in fact, digging ever deeper in and making things much more complicated and I love it! Check it out if you enjoy wheezing in pain but also somehow laughing because, really? Really you three? Really??
Bad World by Zuberan
Bad World is where Adora finds the sword the first time she goes out for it, Shadow Weaver decides that she doesn't need Catra anymore, and then Catra joins the Rebellion. Except the joining the rebellion part is VERY difficult, everyone back home thinks Catra's dead, shit keeps hitting the fan, epic fights keep popping up in cool ways, the series is not re-written blow by blow, and also Entrapta keeps bugging her ex even though she's gone official with Catra and frankly it's one of my favorite dynamics in the whole thing lol.
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allcatsarebabes · 1 year
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she really put out that video of her smiling and having fun with her friends and family not even a week ago for everyone to be like omg poor infant baby heartbroken little kid how does she wake up in the morning
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yieldtotemptation · 1 month
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RITUAL ft. Yujin
yujin x male reader smut
7k words
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Let’s be clear: you’re well aware of what a monumentally stupid idea this is.
For you, it’s just a job. You’ve been fired from plenty before, and there will be plenty more after.
But for her, for Yujin, it’s her career. Her life. Her everything.
And yet, here, in the cramped confines of a bathroom stall, your hand on her ass and hers diving down your jeans; you can’t let go of the nagging suspicion that maybe that’s the fucking point.
“How much time do we have?” Yujin’s lips are on your neck, tiny, hot breaths tickling your skin, nimble fingers at your waist, negotiating with your zipper.
“We had fifteen minutes, an hour ago,” you remind her. “We’re gonna miss soundcheck.”
“It’ll be fine.” Yujin’s unbothered, dismissive of anything that isn’t freeing your cock from its denim prison. “They’ll wait for me. They always do.”
There’s that hint of arrogance, that unshakeable confidence of youth, the invincibility that comes with being that absurdly hot. You can’t blame her at all for it.
What Yujin wants, she gets. You've seen it first hand.
It’s one of the many things you’ve learned about her over the past few weeks.
Well one of the few that don’t concern how good her cunt feels when she rides you, or how her eyes roll to the back of her head when you hit that spot just right, or the way her voice goes hoarse when she screams your name.
“Oh, it’s so perfect.”  Yujin’s seen your cock before, tasted it, taken it, had it in every way possible (in every place available), yet that still doesn’t stop her eyes from lighting up the second she sees it springing out from the waistband of your briefs, standing tall and throbbing painfully. “I’d say this is worth being late for.”
You’ve got a groan for her when she takes you into her hand, her grip firm and familiar. A half-hearted protest, too: “Yeah, but if we’re late, Princess Yujin gets a slap on the wrist, whereas I get fired.”
Yujin scoffs at that. “Well, I am your boss, so I think I get the last say if it comes down to it.”
Part of you wants to correct her, wants to explain that technically you’re not her employee but an independent contractor hired by the touring company. However, that part of you needs to shut the hell up, because the intricacies of employment contracts for musicians-for-hire really don’t seem pertinent at this moment.
Regardless, it all becomes trivial in the face of Yujin. So annoyingly, unfairly pretty, not even the unflattering harshness of the bathroom lights are capable of marring her in the slightest.
You’d probably give her the world if she asked.
She’d happily settle for your dick.
Her hand’s moving now, her fingers dancing around your shaft, exploring the contours of your cock from base to tip, and she's forcing you to resign, “Your logic, as always, is flawless.”
“See?” Yujin smiles up at you, that wide, confident grin that’s graced a million posters, been on every magazine cover and TV channel, and is now laser focused on you. “I’m always right, aren’t I?”
Her point's made with a squeeze around your length, stroking you in earnest, building to a rhythm that’s become so familiar over the past week—quick and precise, dangerously efficient. Like she was made for this. Made to tease your cock. As natural for her as breathing, really.
Yujin’s had plenty of practice, after all—on the morning of every concert, in the evening back at her hotel, on tour buses and in dressing rooms. On a plane once, even. It's the same torrid routine that’s now become a required pre-show ritual. A quiet spot, a secluded room, and she steals you away, bringing you to the brink and back.
And to think it all started because she asked you to help her ‘calm her nerves’.  
Or more correctly, fuck all the worries and concerns out of her pretty little head.
Still, she's never pushed it this far, never cut it this close.
You lean back against the stall door, your breath catching in your throat, the cheap plastic giving slightly under the pressure. Outside you can hear it, hear the bustling sounds of the venue coming to life—staff moving about, the distant roar of fans, the occasional clang of sound equipment. But in here, it’s overpowered by the noisiness of her palm sliding along your shaft, slick with her saliva, and it fills the small space, echoing across the cold tiles beneath your feet.
She’s undeniable—you know you’ve spoilt her. You’ve let her get her way with you far too many times, let her push this arrangement past any semblance of professionalism. Let her poison your mind with whispered sweet nothings that have you pounding her into the nearest available surface whenever she gets a twitch of stage fright.
But you’re also acutely aware of the fact that without these moments, without the promise of her tight, wet cunt wrapped around your cock, you’d be out there on that stage sleepwalking through just another concert with nothing but a drum kit and a bunch of songs you could play with your eyes closed.
“Fucking hell, Yujin, you look too good doing that,” you manage to get out, doing your best to endure her fingers gliding along your length, to last under the microscope of Yujin's dark, hungry eyes.
Another thing about Yujin: there's a special thrill she gets just from watching you, eyes glued to your face, taking in every single nuance of agony she’s wringing out.
“So fucking—” you settle on the most obvious word in your lexicon, “pretty.”
Yujin keens at the praise, her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, her teeth grazes the soft skin of her bottom lip. It's hardly new for her to hear this, to have people rave about how she's the hottest piece of ass this side of the equator. Yet there's something about hearing it from you that has her eating up your words every time. "Am I, now?"
You nod, voice momentarily failing you as she pumps your cock, her grip never wavering, never faltering, like she’s milking you, milking words of adulation from your lips.
You still haven't pinned down exactly what it is about you that unwinds Yujin, that makes her chase you so hard. Maybe it's because you're slightly older, a touch more mature than the usual plastic smiles that try to charm her out of her pants.
Or maybe it's because you said 'no' the first time she sniffed in your direction, and then made her scream 'yes' every time after.
Whatever it is, it has Yujin’s other hand reaching up to fiddle with the choker at her neck, flooding your mind with memories of your hand around her throat, her gagging on your length, her eyes watering while you fuck her face.
“And what about this outfit?” She asks, oh-so-innocently. “You think the fans will like it?”
“Yujin,” you say, like she doesn’t already know the very obvious answer. You’ve seen her in it all—tiny hot pants, tight little bralettes, that fucking leather catsuit. Yujin’s a fucking goddess in anything she wears, even a blind man would burn from the sheer heat radiating from her body. “You look fucking incredible, as always.”
“But?”
“No buts.”
“I heard a ‘but’,” Yujin ponders, her hand still working your cock like it’s her favourite toy. “Like: ‘but the shorts are too short, and everyone’s gonna see my cheeks when I bend over’.”
A blatant invitation to take a glance, to look down, down at those denim shorts so tight against her curves, the fabric stretched so taut that it might split open at any moment. Look down at her thick thighs, the way they flex and release as she jerks you off, every movement making the material cling tighter to her skin, moulding themselves around the outline of her perfect, round ass, those juicy cheeks that you’ve had the honour of spanking and biting and bruising.
“Or is it: ‘but your top is cut too low, your tits are gonna spill right out’?”
She’s drawing your gaze upwards, over that smooth, creamy expanse of skin, her stomach flat and toned, up the thin fabric of her flimsy excuse for a shirt, that dips just enough to tease the tops of her breasts, squeezed together and pushed up by her bra. It's so thin, wrapped so tight around her, highlighting the faint outline of her nipples poking through, already stiffened and calling for your tongue.
“Or maybe it’s: ‘the outfit looks good, looks nice and slutty, but you’d much rather rip it off me and just fucking ruin me like I deserve?'"
Yeah, that’s more like it.
You take that as permission, and reach for the hem of her top, eager to finally see those tits, to feel their warm weight in your palms, to have her stripped and laid bare like she knows you’d love to. But Yujin’s too quick, slapping your hand away with a laugh.
“But unfortunately, there’ll be none of that, drummer boy.” Yujin stops, her grip on your cock tightening for a brief, painful second. “Can’t have you ruining my outfit before I go on stage, can I?”
There’s a challenge there, a test to see if you’ll argue, maybe grab her, throw her against the wall and show her just how little of a fuck you give about anything that takes place outside of this toilet stall. But you know she’s right. You're the adult here, remember? Besides there’ll be plenty of time for that later.
You settle for her lips, leaning down, pressing the pad of your thumb against her chin. You tilt her head up towards yours, only for Yujin to pull back, leaving you kissing air. “Seriously?”
Yujin grins, clearly delighting in denying you again, in making your blood boil and cock throb. “Can’t ruin the make-up either,” she explains, making sure to bat her long, fake lashes for extra effect.
“So, I take it that means the pigtails are off limits too?” You ask, idly toying with the ludicrously slutty hairstyle that’s framing her face, bobbing slightly with every stroke she gives you.
“Now you’re learning.”
So, with a frustrated grunt, you keep your hands at your sides, resigning yourself to Yujin’s sweet torture. It’s maddening, just standing there, panting and so horny, at the mercy of Yujin’s slow strokes. “And no concern for my outfit, whatsoever.”
Yujin’s eyes wander over your choice of clothing, and laughs, rather insultingly, if you're honest. “I’m sure all the fans will be very focused on the drummer’s fashion choices,” she says, trusting you to pick up on the sarcasm.
You feign injury. “Ouch, I put a lot of thought into my clothing.”
“Sure you do. Thoughts like: how easy will it be for your little fuck buddy to tear them off?” Yujin’s thumb finds that sensitive spot just beneath the head of your cock, swiping over it with a smugness that’s both infuriating and incredibly hot.
“You’re going to get it later for that one,” you warn, your hand curling into a fist.
“Oh, I know.”
Yujin picks up the pace, her hand a blur, running up and down your shaft, fingers sliding across your slit, smearing the pre-cum that’s beaded there over your cockhead. And there’s a glint in her eye, that needy look that tells you she’s getting off on this, getting off on having you, having someone she shouldn’t be left alone with, squirm and beg and be so desperate for her.
“Look how big you are for me, daddy.”
There’s that word, that sweet, sweet ‘daddy’.
The first time she called you it was an accident, a slip of the tongue during a particularly intense moment when you had her against the window of her hotel, tits squashed against the glass, cunt dripping with your cum. But every time since, it’s been deliberate, calculated, a button she knows she can push to make you give it to her as rough as she wants; as rough as she craves.
“Look how big you are in my tiny hand.” She’s got you moaning now, melting between her fingers, bucking your hips for that extra bit of friction. “You love it when I jerk you like this, don’t you, daddy?”
‘Daddy’ again, rolling off her tongue like a fucking love letter, a song to send your head spinning and your cock pulsing in her hand.
There’s another challenge, can you last a little bit longer? Can you resist the urge to cum all over her fingers? Paint her pretty nails a fresh shade of white? Or would you rather wrap your hand around her lovely neck and force her to admit that she loves all this just as much as you do.
You swallow down the groan that’s building in your throat, your teeth grinding together to maintain some semblance of control. Yujin catches it, sees the effort it’s taking you, and she shakes her head, her lips pursed in a perfect little pout.
“Don’t hold back, daddy,” Yujin's chiding you, disappointed with your restraint. “I want to hear it. I need to hear how good it feels, how desperate you are. Need you to show me just how much you want to see me filled with your cum.”
She twists her hand down on your cock, squeezing when she reaches the base, her other hand coming down to cup your balls, tickling them with her fingers. That has a moan escaping your lips, a low, desperate sound that makes Yujin preen.
“That’s it,” she’s overjoyed, getting what she came for, basking in your pleasure, “tell me how much you want it, tell me how much you want to cum for me.”
And so you do. You tell her, your voice strained with the effort of keeping your orgasm at bay. Not yet, not until you’re deep inside her, not until you're sure that not a single drop will go wasted. “You're too fucking much, Yujin, too fucking hot,” you manage, the words a choked noise that you hope she can hear over the blood pounding in your ears. “You’re driving me fucking mad.”
Yujin’s strokes keep building, one on top of the other, and she’s pressing herself against you, the warmth of her, soft breasts pushing into your chest, her lips sucking at your neck, kissing into you hard. After all, who will notice? Who gives a fuck if the drummer shows up on stage with a few extra bruises on his skin?  
You fall into the crook of her neck, your forehead on her shoulder, as her lips make their way up your throat, across your jaw, until she’s nipping at your lobe, whispering in your ear, “You’re desperate for my cunt, aren’t you, daddy? You want to fill me up right before I go on stage?”
“Yujin,” you grit out, and you’re holding her, hands on those perfectly round cheeks, holding on for dear life, pulling her close to you so that she can feel just how right she is. The words spill out of you like a confession, “I need to fuck you now, Yujin. I need to feel your cunt, make you cum so hard you won’t be able to fucking move, let alone dance.”
And Yujin leaves one last, lingering kiss on your pulse. “So do it, daddy.”
Her words are a fucking gunshot, and you’re off to the races.
You spin her around so fast she yelps, your chest to her back, your cock trapped between her ass cheeks. Her shorts are barely an inconvenience, yank them down, denim catching on her hips, sliding down to her ankles, leaving her in just her panties.
Yujin gasps, the cool air meeting her bare skin, and she braces herself against the wall of the stall, needing something to keep her on her feet. She’s all soft curves and sweet smells, so insanely proportioned, like she's built for this, curvy and thick in all the right places.
While she’s distracted you sneak a kiss onto the creamy-white skin of her shoulder, hard enough to give her a mark to match yours, a badge of honour that brands her in the same way she’s done to you.
Her panties never stood a chance, completely drenched to the point of ruin, sticky with anticipation, snug against her lips. You pull them aside, thumb brushing against her swollen clit, making her hips jerk forward. She’s on your time now, you’ve got the green light to turn the tables and drag her through the same torment she’s put you through.
“Look at this,” you’re in her ear now, taunting, “you’re already so fucking wet for me.”
Yujin’s cheeks burn red, and she’s pushing back against you, grinding her ass into your cock. “Of course I am. I can’t help it,” she’s a little breathless, a little shaky, “I need it.”
“You’re so beautiful,” your hands like magnets on her bare ass, squeezing, marking her in places only you'll ever know. “So fucking beautiful.”
“Please,” Yujin whimpers, as you slide your finger down, between her legs, tracing her wet slit, testing her tightness, feeling her warmth, feeling how ready she is. “Please, fuck me now.”
You can’t resist her, you never can, not with so little time left and so much of her to ruin. Your cock dips, lining up with her pussy, the tip nudging at her entrance, and all it takes is one strong thrust, and you’re pushing into her, burying yourself to the hilt in a swift, brutal motion.
There’s a scream from her, a grunt from you, blending and echoing through the bathroom, bouncing off the tiles and the stall walls. Someone’s going to hear it, someone’s going to come in and see you fucking the star of the show and that’ll be it for the both of you.
But really, fuck all of that.
Fuck the concert, the venue staff, the fans, the tour managers, the PR nightmare that will follow.
Fuck everything that isn’t inside this stall, that isn’t Yujin’s tight cunt squeezing around your cock, that isn’t the way she’s shuddering in your arms, gasping your name, needing her daddy to fuck her harder, faster.
There's no easing her into it, not like you know you should. You fuck her hard, just like she’s begged. Your hips snap against her ass, the sound of skin slapping skin drowning out the noise outside, again and again, in and out, over and over.
Yujin’s never needed much to get started, always so easily soaked, so easily ready. She'd told you as much one late night (or one early morning): "I can take it, take anything, as long as it's coming from you. "
Her walls clamp down around you, she’s already pulsing, her cunt desperate to wring you dry. You’re gliding in and out of her, using her, letting her mold herself so perfectly around you, her juices coating your cock, making it slicker with every thrust.
“Yes—that’s what I fucking need.” Yujin cries out, her voice high-pitched, her head thrown back, and the flimsy plastic isn’t enough anymore, she needs you to hold her steady, to dig your fingers into her hips and nail her into the wall.
Each stroke, each thrust into her cunt, each time you fill her, stretch her—each one could be the last one, the one that has you exploding inside her. Could be the one that overwhelms you, the one that makes you forget where you are, that there’s anything that exists besides fucking this needy, little brat.
It’s the way Yujin clenches around you, tight and perfect, like she’s made just for you, like she’s never been fucked this way before, will never be again.
(Even though you have. Even though you will.)
Each time is like the first, you’re discovering her all over again, peeling back layers of this beautiful, untouchable idol, and finding something new, something beneath the sheen of purity and perfection. Something that makes you want to ruin her, bring her down to your level, to roll around the filth with the rest of you mere mortals.
And Yujin knows it.
There’s a need to make her feel it, and there’s her fucking pigtails, dangling in front of you like a carrot, flicking up and down in front of your face with every thrust. You need to grab them, to yank her back onto your cock, to force her to take it as hard as you want to give it. It’s almost too much to resist.
But even in your haze you know better. Instead, you settle for that choker on her neck, your thumb sliding under the black leather band, feeling the pulse of her blood racing beneath her skin. You grip it, tight, but not too tight. Just enough to make her gasp, to make her cunt tighten, to make her cry out—
“Gah—God—fuck—”
Strangled cries have her screaming, have her needing you to go deeper.
“Fuh—fuck—yes—right there—right—fucking—there—”
She’s chanting, almost sobbing, doing her best to take everything you’re giving her, everything she’s needs, everything she deserves. You’re tapping into that deep, dark desire within her. The one that gets off on being treated rough, the one that loves having a daddy, the one that needs to be nailed to a wall and reduced to nothing but a shaking, mewling mess of climaxes.
You dare to snake a hand under her top, you’re not going to mess her outfit, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get a taste of what’s underneath. Your fingers stretch under her bra, testing the elasticity of the cotton, before finally finding the swell of her breasts, cupping it, filling your hand with it.
Yujin’s moan is all the encouragement you need, a wordless permit to squeeze, to pinch her nipple, roll it between your thumb and forefinger until it’s a hard little nub.
“Oh fuck yes—touch me. You love touching me, don’t you?” She's feeling it, really feeling you, the stimulation of your palm on her breast, the sting on her nipples. “You fucking love my body.”
It’s the damn truth—these past weeks have been a crash course in Yujin, and you haven’t found an inch you didn’t immediately fall in love with. Every curve and dip and line, every soft place and every sharp edge; the weight of her in your arms, the way she fits against you, how she responds to your touch like she’s been waiting for it, for you, for fucking ever.
“Fuck, yes, just like that, daddy, just like that.”
“You’re so fucking perfect, Yujin. So tight, so wet, so fucking mine.”
You slur words into her, words that make her shiver, make her tremble against you, make her so fucking happy to hear them. It’s the words that she loves, hearing you talk like that, like she’s the only one who can make you feel this way. And maybe she is.
So you keep talking, keep whispering those loving, filthy soliloquies into her ear, keep telling her how good her cunt is, how desperate you are for her body, how much cum you have to give her. And her body has an answer for you each time, each syllable a caress that sends shivers down her spine.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, Yujin. So beautiful when you’re like this, when you’re all mine.” You can feel it boiling up inside you, that pressure building with every smack of your hips against her ass. “I’m going to cum so hard for you, princess.”
There’s the guitar, the bass, the keys, the band tuning up outside, noise filtering into the stall, faint but unmistakeable, the only thing missing is the beat of the drums, the only thing missing is you.
Yujin’s grinning, knowing she’s the one keeping you occupied, knowing it’s her cunt that you’re buried in, that’s not letting you go.
“If only they knew,” she’s giggling like a schoolgirl (she might as well be with those pigtails), “if only they know how good you’re fucking me right now. They won’t have a fucking clue, will they?”
“Such a fucking tease, Yujin.”
She looks over her shoulder at you, and sends a coy, “Who, me?”
“Yes, you, you little slut,” you answer, not bothering to mince your words. Your hand tightens around her choker, not enough to cut off her air, just enough to keep her right there, panting and needy and yours. “You know exactly what you’re doing out there. I see how you dance, how you move. Like you’re forcing them to picture you fucking, making them all want a taste of what they’ll never have.”
The truth makes her shiver against you. “They all wish they could do this to me, all wish they could fuck me and fill me like you are.”
There’s a tension building inside her too, the blend of your words and the reality of the performance she’s going to have to put on afterwards. It has her body tightening like a bow string, ready to snap at any moment.
And you’re going to be the one to release it.
You venture a hand downwards, gracing over her stomach, her belly button, until you reach the wetness of her pussy. There's her clit, ripe for teasing.
You fuck your cock in deeper still, matching the swirl of your finger with the pounding of her cunt, timing it just right to make her leak all over you.
“That feels so—fuck,” Yujin purrs, so, so blissful. “Only you—only you, daddy. No one else will get to have me—fuck—fuck me like this.”
“Whenever I want, any time I want,” you’re telling her, promising her, even though it’s more likely to be the opposite. That it’s Yujin that will seek you out on those lonely nights and those quiet mornings, or just whenever she’s bored and needs someone to fuck all the nerves and stress out of her system.
“They’d be so—gah—so jealous if they knew. I see it when they look at me—how much they want me,” she’s straining to say it, but needs you to hear it, needs you to know it. “I see it—read it in places they think I don’t look.”
She’s lost, lost in a sea of her own musings, thoughts of how everyone with a working pair of eyeballs wants to fuck her. Relishing in the knowledge that she's found the only person that can fuck her right, and that their cock is buried in her cunt, their fingers working her clit.
“They call me a slut, a whore, but that’s not true, is it, daddy? I only fuck you,” Yujin repeats, “I’m only a slut for you.”
There’s an edge to her voice, a raw, animalistic need that makes you want to prove her right. Want to erupt inside her so badly that she’s forced to carry a part of you inside her when she’s on stage.
“Yours to use,” Yujin taunts. “To fuck, to fill...”
Jesus.
“To break.”
Fucking.
“Maybe I should let you rip off my clothes, fuck up my hair—fuck—my makeup. Go out on stage with all the marks you’ve left on me, with all your cum—gah—all over me.”
Christ.
It hits you like a sledgehammer, adding another layer of taboo to this already fucked up situation. The thought of it is fucking wild, ridiculous to contemplate, you’re sure it’s all just part of the game, another button Yujin’s pressing for her own thrill… right?
“Then everyone would know—everyone would know that it’s you—that you’re the one that’s fucking my brains out when no one else is watching.”
You’re all over her and deep inside her, lips on her throat, her jaw, hands at her tits, her cunt. Devouring her, all of her, from those tightly binded pigtails all the way down to her carefully manicured toes.
And then she stops dancing around the subject and demands it.
“Ruin me. Fuck me, please, daddy. Just—kiss me, now.”
“You said—”
But Yujin’s already twisting around at her waist, angling her body so she can seize your lips, smear her lipstick across your teeth, flood your mouth with her tongue. She’s got fistfuls of your shirt, pulling you closer, as if she’s trying to claim you, claim every inch of you as property of An Yujin.
Now that you’ve got permission, you thread your fingers into her hair, gripping tight, pulling her by the pigtails like you’ve been dying to, kissing her like your life depends on it.
You’re getting rougher with her now, tugging her head back, peeling her lips away from yours, sliding your cock out of her. You ignore the whine, ignore the tears. It’s game over for her makeup, for her hair, her outfit. She’s a beautiful, chaotic mess—so shamelessly yours, so perfect in every way.
The separation barely lasts a second, you’re lifting her up, turning her and depositing her atop the toilet seat, spreading her legs wide, putting her on display.
This is the real show—Yujin looking up at you, eyes dark with need, tits out and heaving with every breath; thick, toned thighs glistening with her juices, your precum; and her pussy, all puffy and so ready to be filled again.
“Daddy—” Yujin starts, and ends, as you’re inside her again. Inside her tight, welcoming cunt, her back arching off the cold porcelain, her legs wrapping around you, ankles crossing and locking in place.
Just one hard thrust and you see it—it's in the watering of her eyes, the wobble of her lips.
She’s close, and you’re not far behind.
“Please.”
It’s barely a whisper, nearly lost somewhere between your haggard breaths and the sloppy wet sounds of your bodies colliding.
But you hear it, and it’s all you need.
It’s her pigtails in your hands again, strands wrapped around your fist, and you’re taking a front row seat in the spectacle that is Yujin falling apart.
“Please, fuck me.” There it is again, louder now. “Fuck my tiny little pussy, daddy. Make me yours.”
It’s every single sound out of her mouth, every folding and crumpling of her perfect features, every single drop of sweat sliding down her neck, every time she says fuck me, or break me, or over and over again—make me yours.
You want to savour this, burn this image into your mind, live off the memory of Yujin’s cunt pulsing around you, but there’s no time, no time to do anything but kiss her again; clumsy, hungry, wet, open-mouthed kisses.
“Please,” she’s biting into your lip, licking into your mouth, clawing at your shoulders, “say my name.”
“Yujin,” you give it to her, offer her name like a sacrifice. “Yujin, I’m so fucking close.”
The porcelain is doing its best to bear your weight, to survive the punishment you’re hammering into Yujin’s tight, perfect body, to outlast your relentless fucking. “Cum for me daddy, cum for me.”
But it’s her, it’s Yujin that crosses that threshold first, coming apart until she’s nothing but a mess of whimpers, moans, and cries of your name. Of pleases and thank yous, until she’s just a hot, tight cunt getting used for your pleasure.
“Fuck—fuck—I’m cumming—daddy, I can’t—it’s so—”
It’s all there across her face, all in the way she’s shaking, the way her cunt is gripping you, her walls fluttering around your cock like a fucking heartbeat, tightening and releasing in endless waves that crash down on her.
“So good—you’re so good—you’re so—fuck—fuck—cum—cumming—"
Her entire body seizes, tenses all at once, and you’d be worried if you hadn’t seen it countless times before, if you didn’t know to expect her to lose all control of her limbs, to not be able to do anything but stare at you, all teary eyed and feeling so, so good.
But you keep going, hips pumping, cock driving into her, keeping her steady, helping her climb to her peak, filling her tender, creaming cunt over and over again. You want to make this last, want to keep her like this, unable to think about anything but you, unable to think about anything that isn’t your cock.  
“So fucking good for me, Yujin, so good, princess.”
“God, fuck—daddy!”
It’s the praise that pushes her over, unravels her, has her mouth frozen in the shape of your name, like the idea of you is the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. That, and her nails digging into your skin, adding to the tapestry she’s already engraved on your back.
And then the silence comes, and that’s the real killer.
Yujin’s always loud when she gets fucked, always desperate to tell you how good it feels, needy for you to know how good you are to her. But when she cums—when she loses herself on your cock—it’s like she relinquishes all ability to articulate, to make any sound other than a whine or a gasp.
You know what she wants to say—don’t stop, please, don’t stop—know what she wants to tell you—thank you, daddy, thank you, thank you, thank you—and it’s your responsibility to see her through it, to plunge your cock deep into the smooth, velvety muscles of her cunt, to have her rocking and creaming all over you, again and again and again.
And then she falls apart.
So beautifully, so perfectly.
But you’re not done yet.
Your thrusts come in thick and fast, making the whole stall shudder, making your vision swim. Yujin’s still reeling, snapped back into the land of the living by the force of your fucking.
She’s leaning forward, pressing her forehead to yours, able to form whole words again, whispering something that you can’t quite catch, something sweet and needy and demanding.
“I’m all yours, daddy.”
It’s a trigger she’s been waiting to pull—the moment she says it, you let go.
There’s no holding back anymore, you’ve been fighting it for what feels like hours, trying to keep your shit together, but it’s no use. You’re going to cum, the only question is, where.
You can’t shake the image of her covered with you, painted all over her face, her chin, her neck, her chest, her perfect, perfect tits. You want it, want to see it realised, want to parade her out on that stage looking like a fuck doll—your fuck doll.
But not now, not today.
So instead, you bury yourself inside her, so, so deep. Yujin’s nodding, teasing “deeper, deeper, please,” begging you with her whole body, watching you with those eyes, half-lidded and glazed over, licking at her lips, bracing for you to fill her.
It’s your turn to shake, your turn to let go of that knot in your gut that’s been twisting ever since she dragged you into the bathroom, pushed you into the toilet stall and told you she needed this.
You throb, tighten, the base of your spine tingles, and that’s all the warning you get before you’re cumming, rushing Yujin’s greedy cunt with your hot, sticky load.
“Daddy, daddy—daddy—yes!”
It’s an addiction now, she needs your cum like she needs oxygen, and you need to fill her as if you’ll die if you go another day without pounding her cunt.
“So good, so fucking good inside me—all yours, all yours—"
It’s a thousand blissful little moments stacked on top of each other, her clenching, you throbbing, her grinning, you grimacing, but it all comes together in this heated space that leaves you both boneless, breathless catastrophes.
Yujin’s the first to come down, slumping against you, drooling down your chest, staining your shirt with a sheen of her saliva. Her legs go slack around you, finally letting go of your waist, still shaking in the aftershocks of her orgasm. You can feel your cum leaking from the corners of her cunt, oozing down the inside of her thighs, sliding past her knee, down to her ankles.
A finger under your chin to tilt your head to her, to kiss you. One of those quiet, intimate kisses that will have you spending the night trying to decode its meaning. But, for now, there’s just the salt of her sweat and the sweetness of her lip gloss.
“Thank you, daddy,” Yujin says, so sweetly, so sincerely, and it’s like a knife twisting in your chest.
“Always.”
And slowly, carefully, you’re pulling out of her, even though she’s still clenching, still trying to keep you in. Your cock exits her with an audible slosh, and you need to brace yourself against the stall door, lean into it hard as you take in the sight of Yujin, sprawled on the toilet seat, well fucked and utterly ruined in all the best ways.
She reads your mind, “You really made a fucking mess of me.”
“I only claim fifty percent of that responsibility.”
Yujin pouts, makes sure you’re watching her, and dips her fingers into her defiled cunt. “This is all you, daddy.”
She drags out her digits, holding them up for you, your cum glistening on them like a prize. And then she’s slipping them between her lips, flicking out her tongue to catch a drop that dribbles down her wrist. She licks it all up, slow, savouring it, making sure you’re watching, making sure your eyes are glued to her as she devours the last traces of you from her hand.
That sound she makes, that little “Mmm” of satisfaction has you feeling heady, makes your cock twitch, eager to be back inside her, to fill her right back up so you can watch her do it all over again.
“Cumslut,” is the only word you have her for her, as she slides her fingers in deeper, tickling the back of her own throat like it's the most natural thing to do. Her cheeks hollow out, and after a long, dramatic suck, she pulls her fingers from her lips with a wet pop, all shiny and clean.
She corrects you. “Your cumslut.”
And then a switch is flipped, and she’s putting herself back together.
Yujin’s graceful, at odds with the confines of the cramped bathroom stall she’s just been fucked in. It amazes you every time, the way that she moves. All liquid and soft, as if she’s not really touching anything, as if she’s floating.
She licks droplets of cum off her lips, scoops the remainder up her legs, her thighs, and you’re just staring, gawking at her with something akin to awe, because she’s just so fucking beautiful, so utterly composed, so untouchable.
You help her, you try, help her tug down her shirt, pull up her panties, her shorts, help her slip back into the role of Yujin, the perfect idol, the star that can’t be tarnished by something as dirty as a quickie on top of a toilet seat.
She nods towards the stall door, and you let her past you, help hold her steady as you lead her to the bathroom mirror, give her a chance to assess the damage you've wrought on her. The smudged lipstick, the kiss bruises, the hair sticking to her neck—all evidence of you.
And yet, she smiles, looking back at you over her shoulder. Like she’s got it all under control, like you haven’t ruined her, not really. Not yet.
“Well, that’s something,” she says, her voice a little too breathless for the breeziness she’s aiming for.
But then she’s got her compact out, the tiny bag she's had hidden in her back pocket specifically for occasions like this. You stand back, giving her space to work her magic. Cheeks are patted for colour, lips glossed for plumpness, eyes relined with that dangerously smoky look that makes them pop.
“How do I look?” She turns, looking at you through the mirror, hand on her hip, posing.
“Like you’ve just been fucked in a toilet stall, honestly.”
That makes her laugh. “Good.”
She’s heading to the door, smoothing out her skirt, fixing her top, stopping along the way to give your forearm a quick squeeze.
There’s that look in her eyes again.
One you’ll be revisiting once the show’s over and the doors are closed.
“I’ll take off first,” she says, tying her pigtails back in place. “Wouldn’t want to make it too obvious.”
You catch her hand before she can get away, pulling her face close to you, wiping away a stray bit of cum still shining on her chin. “Good luck out there.”
And there’s that smile. That smile that’s going to make an audience of thousands fall in love with her. That’s going to make you fall in love with her, if you’re not careful. “Don’t need it,” she says, pressing her lips to yours, ruining her lip gloss all over again. “I got you, daddy.”
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I’m finally working on names for my OC’s (giving them a break from The Situations <3) and this is actually so much funnnn fhdjfh
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ohgeezlya · 1 month
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SOMETHIN’ STUPID | Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader
Summary; In which everything is outed between Five, your husband, and Lila, your brother in law’s wife.
“Then he goes and spoils it all by saying something stupid like ‘I love you.’
Warning; Angst, cheating, spoilers for S4.
A/n: I found this season to be terrible, but ugh the angst I can make with it is juicy.
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You feel nauseous, bile raising in the back of your throat, tears pricking your eyes threatening to fall. You feel embarrassed. All eyes on you, Five, Diego, and Lila.
You want to scream.
You’ve known Five since The Temps Commission, and you’ve spent years together happily married. You felt awful for being jealous of his looks towards Lila, but you just thought you were being paranoid; you could trust him. You always had.
Still, you were right. They had both been acting strangely when they returned. Exchanging heartbreaking smiles, lingering looks, and delicate touches.
Then the fucking bracelet.
You slap Five across the face with an unsteady hand, hoping to make a mark. Your wedding ring was on the hand that you smacked him, and the blow caused a tiny cut in his face.
Loud ‘oos’ and a gasp come from the siblings on the couch.
"You are disgusting. Were you with his wife, your brother's fucking wife?" Five just looked at you, his cheek cupping, grief rushing through him. You push him away when he reaches out to you.
“You don’t understand. We were stuck there for seven years. Every day I thought about coming home to you, but it felt hopeless. I felt like I was going insane.“ He trying, desperately wanting you to understand, but how can you?
“So, what, You gave up? You gave up on finding a way back?” You shake your head in disbelief. Five would never give up, the man in front of you is not the man you met all those years ago.
The one you married would’ve fought tooth and nail to get back to you.
“I knew something was going on since you got back; I’m not blind, Five. I… I thought I was being paranoid; I felt horrible for not trusting you, my husband." You look down at your ring; its typical shine is dulling.
All those years, the surviving, the fighting, saving the world. Together. Was all forgotten and all for nothing within a couple of hours—for you at least.
“It took seven years for 45 long ones to be nothing.” You mumbled taking the ring off, and throwing it at him—which he caught, a terrified glance at it in his hand.
There was a stunned silence, Klaus perched on the couch waiting for more along with the others.
You feel exposed, you don't want to be vulnerable while there’s onlookers, gawking at your ruined marriage taking place in your in-law’s living room.
“Five, I hope those fleeting moments with her were worth it.”
You turn your heel and walk away, ignoring the pleas from Five and the siblings for you to come back.
Some part of you that will love Five unconditionally wants him to run after you.
Your hands are tight around your arms, shaking.
You remember the train Five talked about...
You cautiously take steps down to the train station, the overhead lights buzzing eerily. No one was there, only yourself and the lone train.
Staggering to one of the doors, you quickly get on. Not looking back.
You take a seat, when your legs give out. Tears watering down your face, you do nothing to wipe them away. You’re tired. You don’t look back.
The train dings, the lights flickering, the train ramping up, and the doors shutting. You nervously tried to play with your ring finger but there was nothing to fidget with.
You don’t look back.
If you did.
You would’ve seen Five. Standing there solemnly, heavy tears going down his face as the weight of this breaks him. His fist tightens around your wedding ring, you leaving breaks him.
The wind from the train blows his hair to the side as he watches you leave.
Never to be seen in this timeline again.
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starkwlkr · 2 months
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pretty in pink | logan howlett
an: this comes straight from my delusional mind
dad!logan (you can choose if you want this to be an old man logan fic!!)
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All week your daughter, Ada, had been reminding everyone about her sixth birthday that was coming up. She made sure you and Logan marked it on every calendar in the house. During dinner, all she talked about was her pink princess themed party.
“And the cake has to be pink!” She said for the hundredth time. She sat in her chair at the table completely forgetting she was supposed to be eating her spaghetti.
“We know, bub. You told us everyday before and after school.” Logan said.
“I told the girls in my class to come too. They said they wouldn’t come because we’re freaks.” Her excitement about the party died down.
Laura, now a teenager, gave her sister an encouraging smile. “They’re the freaks. You’re the coolest girl in school. That means we get to have all the cake.” That earned a laugh from Ada. Logan chuckled, it warmed his heart to see his daughter’s bond.
“Your party is going to be the best, my love,” You stood up and grabbed your and Logan’s plate that were now empty. “Finish up and then get ready for bed, both of you.” You walked to the kitchen sink and began to wash the dishes.
Laura immediately challenged Ada to see who could finish their spaghetti first. After a scolding from their parents, Laura let Ada win. Soon, the sisters raced upstairs to get ready for bed.
As you and Logan finished cleaning, you couldn’t help but think about your little girl. Your sweet innocent little girl didn’t deserve to be called a freak. Your thoughts were interrupted when a car pulled up to your driveway. You weren’t expecting anyone, especially not at this hour.
“Stay here.” Logan said to you after he wiped his hands on a dish rag. He walked out the door ready to confront whoever it was. The car’s headlights were blinding him, but once he heard the familiar voice call his name, he put away his claws.
Inside you were still wondering who it was. Before you could join Logan outside, Ada had run down the stairs already in her princess pajamas.
“Mommy, who’s outside?” She asked you. Her question was answered when Logan walked in with Rogue by his side. Ada screamed in excitement when she saw her other sister. “You’re here! You’re here!” The little girl ran to Rogue and gave her a welcoming hug.
“I wouldn’t want to miss your princess party.” Rogue picked up the girl.
“Are you going to sleep in my room? Dad got some new books for me!”
“Oh you bet we’re going to stay up all night reading those books! I’ll be up in a few, let me talk to mom and dad for a sec,” Rogue set her down. The adults watched as Ada happily skipped up the stairs to her room. “Alright, what’s wrong?” She looked at you and Logan.
“What? Nothing wrong, why are you asking?” Logan asked surprised by her question.
Rogue knew she wasn’t going to get a straight answer from Logan so she looked at you. You sighed and told your daughter the truth. You were nervous about Ada’s party. A few of her classmates did tell her they were attending, but you were convinced they were only coming to make fun of her and ruin her big day.
“Those little shits ain’t going ruin my girl’s party.” Logan added.
“Honey, those little shits are first graders.” You corrected him.
“Little shits or not, Logan’s right. This is Ada’s party and she’s going to have the best damn princess party in the world.” Rogue declared. Before she left, she gave you and Logan a kiss on the cheek then walked up the stairs to Ada’s room.
Logan noticed that you still had a concerned look on your face. “Hey, Ada is going to be okay.”
“I just don’t want my little girl to get hurt.” You said.
“I won’t let anything or anyone hurt any of my girls.” Logan reminded you.
With that, you and Logan finished cleaning and went up to Laura’s room to say goodnight. As you reached Ada’s room, you saw her and Rogue already asleep. You quietly took the book out of Rogue’s hand and put it back on the bookshelf then adjusted the blanket over your daughters. You gave them both a goodnight kiss and left the room.
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In the morning, Ada was the first to wake up. She ran to yours and Logan’s room as fast as she could and jumped on to the bed screaming that it was her birthday. Logan groaned since she had landed on his stomach.
“Wake up! It’s my birthday!” She giggled as Logan sat up and brought her into his arms.
“How old are you today? Eighty? Ninety seven?” He watched as Ada’s smile dropped.
“No, that’s you!”
You were trying so hard to hold in your laugh, but failed. Logan playfully rolled his eyes. It was Ada’s day, he wasn’t going to get mad at her on her special day.
“Okay birthday girl, I believe your sisters promised a special birthday breakfast just for you.” Logan told Ada.
The now six year old gasped as soon as she heard ‘special breakfast’. She immediately jumped off the bed and ran downstairs to the kitchen where Laura and Rogue were making breakfast.
Logan sighed deeply and rolled over to his side, his eyes meeting yours. “Remember . . . Everything is going to be okay today.”
You hummed in response.
Eventually you and Logan joined the girls in the kitchen. Laura and Ada were throwing grapes into each others mouth while Rogue laughed at them failing miserably. Ada had thrown a grape so far from Laura that it hit Logan’s head when he walked in.
“Ada! You hit an elderly man!” Rogue teased.
“Kids.” Logan rolled his eyes yet again.
As a family you all sang happy birthday to Ada as Rogue placed a stack of pancakes topped with whipped cream and Ada’s favorite fruits. The little girl’s smile brought joy to her family.
“Wait, let me get the camera!” You ran to the cabinet that had random items inside. You grabbed the camera and snapped a couple of pictures of your girls and Logan.
It was a beautiful start to a beautiful day.
As the day went on, Rogue and Laura helped decorate the backyard with princess themed decorations. Ada was too busy running around in her pink princess dress to help. Logan was inside blowing up balloons until members of the x-men started showing up.
“Is that the big bad wolverine in a plastic tiara?” Scott Summers chuckled at the sight of Logan wearing a tiara that Ada had given him.
“Watch it, I don’t want you bleeding all over my daughter’s party when I—” Before Logan could finish, Ada joined them with more tiaras in hand. She gave one to every member telling them they couldn’t enter her party if they didn’t wear it.
And that’s how Scott Summers ended up with a plastic pink tiara on his head.
Ada was enjoying her party so far. A couple of classmates did end up attending. You saw as they played on the swing set that Logan had bought for Ada for her last birthday.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Logan said as he stood beside you.
“Hey,” you relaxed more when he was close to you. “Did you see the big box Storm brought for Ada? I bet it’s a big doll house.”
“You’re wrong. It’s definitely a large case of beer for me and you to enjoy when our girls are passed out.”
You chuckled. “After this, no more parties until next year.” You placed a kiss on his lips.
“Whatever you say . . .” He got another kiss in before Ada came running to you with a butterfly knife in hand and the biggest smile on her face.
“Mommy! Daddy! Uncle Wade got me a pretty knife!”
“Uncle Wade?!” “What the fuck!” You and Logan yelled at the same time.
“Hey mommy milf dearest! Peanut! Guess my invite got lost in the mail . . . again. I’m starting to think it’s on purpose. Harsh! Whatever, hey kids! Who wants to learn how to use this baby!” He held up his gun.
“Wade, No!”
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slvttyplum · 6 months
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choso loves the way you taste, and not in the way you think, even though his mouth salivates at that thought.
he just loved to cuddle up against you while you were doing something and just kiss you, licking his lips after just to taste you. your skin was always smooth with a hint of vanilla that made him want to eat you up, that’s why he couldn’t resist giving you a little lick once in a while. 
it was arousing, to say the least, to have your taste lingering in his mouth for hours on end while he waited for a taste again. he waits for you all hours of the day just to get a taste, and you happily give it to him. 
even when he’s inside of you, giving you deep strokes while his hands roam your body and his mouth is near your ear lightly whimpering, he’s taking deep breaths and indulging in your natural scent. 
the way you would taste and smell sent him over the moon; he loved it, he loved being inside of you and smelling that scent drip off of you and into his nose. It turned him on so much. 
or him being in between your thighs and resting on your inner thighs as he takes in your smell and lightly licks a stripe to your core, causing you to shiver, it felt good on the receiving end too. 
choso staring at your dripping core admiring it before licking it and having your taste explode on his taste buds, he loved it so fucking much he just couldn’t explain it. he loved the way your pussy felt, looked and tasted, everything about you was so sweet it made his teeth hurt. 
everything about you just screamed “more” he wanted more and more no matter what, he was greedy, selfish and hungry for you. choso wanted to be the only one who got to indulge in your sweet taste and scent, he wanted to be the one to leave marks on your body from how hungry he was for you. 
this was a feeling he'd never gotten to experience, so once he experienced it with you, he couldn’t get enough. waking up to your sweetness just so he could lick you up, or giving you a full kiss just so he could feel your tongue run over his. 
his light moans entering your mouth whenever he could taste your lingering taste, there was never enough for him to just be satisfied. the way his eyes got small whenever he didn’t get to taste you or smell you, it made him upset. 
that’s all he ever wanted. was to drag his tongue over your smooth skin and savor you for years. 
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gutsby · 10 months
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I’m a Good Girl, Officer!
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Pairing: Reader x Detective Dixon x Officer Grimes x Officer Walsh
Summary: Apparently flashing your tits to truckers on the freeway is frowned upon in small towns like yours. When three familiar King County cops take charge of the case, you learn they punish bad girls a little differently.
Warnings: NSFW. Foursome! :-) Unprotected p-in-v, spitroast, double penetration, overstimulation, praise and degradation, bimbofication, throatfucking, painal, breeding kink, using c*m as lube, and a (consensual) strugglefuck. Elements of dubcon à la power imbalance and coercion. Age gap. Public indecency, evading arrest, assault on two cops, and general drunken stupidity.
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“Goooooood morning, babycakes!”
Your best friend rolled the hem of her shirt over her chest and shimmied her shoulders at the big white semi truck about to pass under the bridge. The stranger at the wheel took one look at the woman’s tits and almost swerved across two lanes of traffic. The sight sent you and your drunken group howling with laughter, falling onto the ground as Maggie yanked her top back down.
It was five a.m. and freezing. The club where you’d been boozing all night had long since shuttered closed, and you and your closest friends from high school—home for the holidays and happily plastered—had gone wandering home in a daze. When one of the girls had stopped suddenly at the midsection of a bridge, you hadn’t been able to keep from sharing her smile the second she’d grinned and said, ‘For old time’s sake?’
In no time at all, you’d been lined up along the metal railing and ogling the unsuspecting drivers down below. The freeway was mostly empty at this hour, save for a couple tractor trailers and early morning commuters, but that didn’t matter.
Rosita was up next. You watched her eye an RV as it bumbled down the road and saw her take hold of her shirt just like Maggie had. Then, right when the camper got close enough, the brunette bent slightly at the waist, flipped her top up, and screamed at the top of her lungs:
“HEY BIG RED!”
A big, buff dude with a bright red handlebar mustache looked up from the passenger seat, as did the white-haired, bearded gentleman wearing a bucket hat beside him. The pair then watched your friend’s roadside spectacle with shared looks of wonder and awe, before passing under the bridge as slow as they possibly could. Rosita staggered off the ledge and reached for the flask in your hand, heedless of her breasts still hanging out.
“Your turn,” she chirped before taking a swig.
Your feet were already wobbling onto the concrete slab. From your vantage point, the outline of the sun was just then breaking out across the tops of the trees, casting the morning’s first rays across your bare skin. You stretched your arms out wide, Titanic-style, and basked in the warmth—likely looking drunk as all hell as you did.
“Ooo, this one, this one!” Maggie cut in presently.
You followed your friend’s gaze and caught sight of a sleek, glistening firetruck speeding down the road.
Perfect, you thought as your eyes soaked in the sight. You pictured the truck packed to the gills with hot and sweaty firemen inside, and your fingers itched at the bottom of your shirt. Curled under the fabric and ready to lift as soon as the time came. Even from a distance, you could make out a tiny cluster of uniformed men at the helm, each of their faces contorted with curiosity.
The truck sped up and drew closer. Maggie squeezed your hip, Rosita chewed her lip, and together, you all stared the firetruck down with bated breath until it was just about to go under the bridge.
In a blink, you flipped your shirt up and shook your tits back and forth for the men going by. Much to your surprise, the firefighter in the driver’s seat honked his horn a couple times, and another one, at the rear, stuck his grinning head out the window and waved.
You, Maggie, and Rosita waved right back, practically falling over each other in fits of laughter as you yelled,
“Call me, daddy!”
The three of you collapsed on the sidewalk in a heap of shitfaced hysterics. Rosita flung your flask to the side and smacked you playfully across your boobs—still out and proud and likely able to cut diamonds with how hard your nipples had gotten in the chilly morning air.
“Daddy?!” she wheezed, “You skank!”
You straightened up, partially splayed across Maggie’s lap, and wiggled your shoulders once more, feigning that high-pitched, ditzy voice you used whenever you were hammered,
“Daddy please fuck my titties, I’ve been such a bad girl!”
Then you gave the best porn star moan you could muster and started to pull your shirt the rest of the way off. Not thinking, you balled up the light pink fabric and threw it up in the air while Rosita cheered—‘Tits out for the girls!’—and Maggie almost pissed herself laughing. Really anything would’ve had your sides fit to split at this point, seeing how faded and adrenaline-drunk you were.
You reached up and waited for the top to fall back into your hand...until it didn’t. You cast a sweeping look across the three of you to see if your shirt had landed somewhere else, but the garment was nowhere in sight.
You turned and craned your neck to see over the railing.
“Shit!”
You scrambled to your feet and gripped the metal siding of the bridge, tits fully out and exposed to the world. You watched as an old Ford Ranger picked up speed and crushed the scrap of fabric under its tires, before the driver, in turn, gawked and honked his horn like a fool.
Just as you started to turn back to tell your friends the bad news—and beg them for a piece of spare clothing to cover you—a sound startled you all.
The short, sharp yelp of a siren straight ahead.
Your hands flew to cover your chest while Maggie and Rosita went floundering over each other trying to get up. A few yards away, a police cruiser had pulled up to the side of the bridge with its lights flashing bright red and blue.
Shit, again, seemed to be the resounding sentiment among you three as the car started inching closer.
“Stop right there!” a voice boomed over the PA system.
That only prompted your group to take off running.
You, cradling your tits in both hands, and Rosita and Maggie trying desperately not to trip over the curb, the wayside trash, or each other as they raced down the street.
Two car doors flew open. Then, the sound of that same voice, breaking out across the still morning air without the aid of the intercom and telling you to freeze right now, followed by the sound of footsteps. Boots thudded heavy on the ground below, moving fast and with purpose. Both pairs easily gained on your three retreating forms in a matter of seconds.
Maggie and Rosita were already leaps and bounds ahead of you. Too busy juggling your tits and struggling to breathe, you felt your heart sink.
Rosita shot a look over her shoulder and cried, ‘C’mon!’ as she eyed the cops coming closer.
I’m trying, you wanted to say, but couldn’t speak. Your chest was too tight, pupils blown wide with fear.
This was not the fucking time to be having a panic attack. But here you were.
Before you could stop yourself, you waved a frantic hand to your friends and somehow managed to scream, ‘Go!’
The girls slowed, tried to urge you forward, but, sensing that you weren’t keeping up and wanted them to go on without you, relented at last. They bounded off toward a side street and disappeared down an alley while you felt your legs start to falter beneath you.
“Freeze!” the voice bellowed again. Loud, gruff, and much closer to your ear than it had been before.
You did as he said, not because you wanted to, but because you had to, then, or your body would’ve given out. Still in the grips of terror and rampant intoxication, you stopped in your tracks, spun on your heels, and watched the two officers sprint toward you.
You started to raise your hands in surrender, but just when one of them approached—presumably to tackle you to the ground—your instincts took over. You scarcely knew what you were doing; you just felt your leg lift with the last bit of strength you had left, then, astonishingly, deliver a kick straight to the first man’s gut.
To the shock of you, the cop, and his partner, the man went tumbling backward. Fell straight on the pavement in almost comical fashion and grunted in pain.
“Rick!” the dark-haired one yelled reflexively.
His gaze darted back to you in an instant.
You knew you were capital F fucked. You didn’t bother trying to run and simply stared at the man left standing in a mixture of horror and dread as he charged straight at you.
Your flight response abandoned, you had only to fight. And, by the looks of your opponent, you sensed this motherfucker knew how to tussle.
Before you could even prime yourself for another kick, the cop had taken you down with one lunge. Pinned you flat on the asphalt and yelled right in your face,
“I said don’t move!”
You moved. You moved in his arms while he wrestled you to the sidewalk, snaked his hand around your front, pressed your back against his chest. You moved when he barked his orders once more, told you to get down now and stop resisting, and even wrapped his arm around your throat to force your compliance.
Chokehold’s illegal, asshole, you thought, fighting hard against his grasp. This cop played dirty, and appeared to give no fucks about who could see.
Just as his grip started to tighten around your neck, you heard the other officer back on his feet, talking sharply into his radio:
“Code 10-33. Requesting backup on Fayette Bridge.”
At the same time, the man above you was trying to shake his head, craning his neck to get his partner’s attention.
“Nah, nah, Rick, I got her!”
When ‘Rick’ didn’t seem to hear and kept shouting into the receiver, the burly cop turned his body to the side, squeezing your neck even tighter.
“Rick!” he called, “I got her right here, she’s— FUCK!”
Suddenly, the man’s voice broke off in a strangled yelp as you sank your teeth into the flesh of his arm. When he loosened his grip out of instinct, stinging with pain, you made a desperate attempt to slip from his grasp and get back on your hands and knees.
The freshly bitten cop just slammed you even harder on the ground, unleashing a string of expletives in your ear.
“Fuck you, pig!” you screamed back.
You weren’t sure what had come over you in the few short moments preceding this one—what had irked you so terribly to be inclined to kick one cop in the stomach and bite another on the arm like a feral cat—but there you went. Face down on the pavement with a set of handcuffs being clipped over your wrists.
You winced when you were jerked back onto your feet, the cop’s left hand on your shoulder and the other at your back. He shoved you to take your first steps forward, you instinctively told him to eat shit and die, and as a grim, unsavory unit, you walked toward the officer with his grip still fastened tight to his radio.
“You alright?” Rick asked, out of breath.
His gaze seared right through you to his partner—whose face, you could sense, was already beset with a scowl.
“Bitch bit me,” he spat.
You saw Rick’s expression change, watched his mouth move to speak again, when a sound crackled out of the receiver in his hand. A couple code words and street names you couldn’t make out.
“That’s— that’s alright, now, Officer Walsh has the subject restrained,” Rick returned hastily.
At present, Mr. Walsh had his thumb dug deep in your back, ostensibly holding tight to keep you subdued but more than likely just being an ass. He felt you flinch and gave you a fierce shake.
“Quit squirmin’, girl.”
“Quit pinchin’ me, pig!”
“You’d best watch that fuckin’ mouth’a yours.”
The voice above your ear had you easily outmatched in volume and tone, coarse as it was unkind.
You decided to try your luck anyway.
“Make me, pussy.”
The last thing you saw was the look of bewilderment leap to Rick’s face as Walsh thrust you forward, suddenly, and slammed you face-down on the hood of their car.
“What’d I say ‘bout that fuckin’ mouthin’ off?! Huh?”
“Shane—”
Rick grabbed this Shane’s shoulder in an effort to intervene. Tried prying him off before he could shove you down any harder, but his partner seemed adamant. Shane put his palm over the side of your head and knotted his fingers through your hair, quick to pull.
“Nah, man, I ain’t takin’ lip from some halfwit bimbo—”
“Hey!” you started, only to have your words muffled with your head forced back on the hood.
“Shane!” Rick snapped this time, taking a harder grip of his shirt and yanking him back. To your dismay, Shane kept a chunk of your hair clenched in his fist and probably dislodged a dozen or more strands when he was pulled away.
You let out a gentle groan as your head hit the car for a third time and the two officers broke off in a skirmish.
“You heard what Dixon said,” Rick hissed.
“Fuck what Dixon said!”
“You cain’t just— you got no right—”
“I got every right, man, lemme tell you sumn’—”
Before Shane could ‘tell you’ much of anything, though, the two were rendered silent by the sound of tires on pavement close by. A halt, a tense moment, a car door swinging open and closed, and a whisper passed quickly from Rick to Shane as the two exchanged a look,
“You fucked up.”
You tried tilting your head up toward the windshield to sneak a look in its reflection, maybe see who was coming. You couldn’t make out a thing.
Then, presently, the voice of a much more hushed, humbler Officer Walsh as he spoke,
“Detective Dixon, how’s it—”
“Six bucks.” Another man, presumably Dixon, cut in.
“Huh?”
“Six bucks fer this fuckin’ coffee. Tastes like dirt.”
Oh, uh, yeah, you could just sense Shane shifting uncomfortably on his feet as he searched for the right words to say, maybe scratched his head once or twice. Fortunately for him, Rick came to the rescue.
“Tried that new place on Main, huh?”
“Nic and Norman’s, yeah. Eggs were runny as shit an’ the waitress kept callin’ me ‘Dale’,” the man, now presumably Dixon but not Dale, said in a huff.
It was as if you weren’t lying flat on your tummy with your top off and your hands cuffed behind your back. You stupidly hoped the new man hadn’t noticed you.
“Well who’ve we got here?”
Shit.
You heard footsteps approach, but you didn’t turn your head. Your lungs expelled a small, shaky breath as this detective came by and stood inches from your bent form.
“She and her friends were flashing their tits to the cars passing under the bridge,” Shane declared, a touch too smug as he said it, “The others got away, but this one was sweet enough to grace us with her presence.”
“Kicked me in the stomach and knocked me on my ass,” Rick added.
“Bit me, too.”
You heard a low tsk-tsk as the detective clicked his tongue. Took another sip of his mud-flavored espresso and shook his head above you. Your skin burned with the imprint of his gaze.
“Spring break come a little late this year?” he teased.
“Fuck you,” you muttered.
The men let out a collective chuckle at your tart words. You could just picture the smirks and sly glances shared between them as they watched you writhe against the hood of the police cruiser and try not to give them the satisfaction of seeing your breasts splayed out underneath you.
You were ashamed, admittedly, unsure of how to proceed with three cops at your rear and few options at your disposal besides swearing up a storm. At last, you decided to shift your gaze in their direction and shoot them a glare—more of an empty threat than any real message, but you didn’t care.
You turned and immediately wished you hadn’t.
Your heart leapt into your throat.
“Daryl?!”
This time, Rick and Shane were the only ones to laugh out loud, before quickly stifling the sounds when they realized their superior hadn’t shown a hint of amusement.
Daryl Dixon, the detective, and your brother’s best friend from college, stared down at you with a look of horror.
“Y/N,” he stammered, in shock.
It was clear he was trying with every fiber of his being not to look down at your tits, but his resolve was only so strong. Finally, he settled on looking away, fast, and staring off in the distance while you readjusted yourself.
“Been a minute,” he said, trying for a curt, awkward nod.
And a minute it had been. The last time you’d laid eyes on the man had been at a Christmas party hosted by your brother and his husband four years ago. You’d exchanged all of ten words in polite, drunken pleasantries, and he’d stumbled off at the end of the night with a gorgeous redhead dressed as Mrs. Clause. You hadn’t heard hide nor hair of him since.
For a moment, Rick’s eyes danced indeterminately between you two. Shane’s remained fixed on your face.
“You know this little hellion, Detective?”
Daryl cleared his throat.
“Yeah, uh, that’s— that’s Aaron’s little sister.”
“No shit?”
The words came out faster than Shane could think to stop them. Your hometown was no great metropolis, and even he knew of your brother through a friend-of-a-friend and several cousins’ babysitter’s grandma’s Aunt Carol, or some similar relation. He and Rick had probably partied at your lake house a couple times in college.
“Uncuff her.” Daryl’s voice had already lowered some, pacing away to give you privacy.
Shane obliged and freed you from the handcuffs. When you turned around, only the back of Daryl’s body was visible to you as he ducked inside the backseat of his car.
He returned a few moments later with a blanket. Tried his damndest not to let his vision stray an inch from your face as he handed it to you. Then he beckoned Rick over, and the two exchanged a few quiet words by his sedan.
“You got rabies or anything?” Shane was eyeing the tiny crescent of teeth marks on his forearm.
You rolled your eyes.
“Worse. I’m one of those walkers.”
Shane gave you a look that conveyed he was just as annoyed but didn’t say anything more, even when you made a face at him. He just crossed his arms, leaned back against the squad car, and gritted his teeth. Before you knew it, Daryl and Rick were walking back.
“I’ll take her to the station,” Daryl said.
“Alri—”
“What?” you cried, “For what?!”
You knew for damn what. You just couldn’t believe your brother’s best friend wasn’t planning on giving you a family friend freebie of some kind.
Officer Walsh supplied an answer for you nonetheless, “Let’s see, now: public intoxication, public indecency, open container, and aggravated assault on two police officers. That clear things up, sweet cheeks?”
“You��ve gotta be shitting me.”
“Disorderly conduct, too,” Rick chimed in. Trying not to smile as he said it.
The only ones still not amused by anything this situation had to offer were you and Daryl. The detective looked positively pissed and ready to chuck his cup of coffee over the bridge, while you wanted nothing more than to disappear into the ether. The two of you exchanged a brief, uneasy look and quickly looked the other way.
Rick and Shane were already retreating to their cruiser. You just watched them, almost forlorn, and pretended not to see Daryl signaling for you to follow him.
“C’mon now,” he murmured.
“Can’t you just let me off with a warning?”
Daryl was treading closer to you now, hand outstretched in an almost gentle sort of gesture. Like he wasn’t about to cart you off to the slammer.
“Y’know I can’t do tha’,” he replied, “With all the fuss ya caused, Captain would have my head.”
When you wrenched your arm away from his grasp, you saw him frown.
“Hey,” Daryl said, a little more sternly now, “Don’t make this harder than it needs ta be.”
You watched him reach for you again.
Your first instinct was to shrug him off. Your second was to flee.
You weren’t sure why you even tried it—it just seemed like the right thing to do in the moment, like they did in the movies, to take off sprinting down the street. You gave it a shot.
Unfortunately for you, your feet didn’t carry you far, and Daryl had you snagged in his arms in about five seconds flat. You glanced to the first cop car and saw that Rick and Shane hadn’t even stirred from their seats. Just grinning and laughing at your attempted escape.
Detective Dixon had you by the bicep now, leading you toward his car with a little more force in his step. You were cursing, writhing, fighting every effort of his to corral you into the backseat, but, without much trouble, he pushed you in.
Rear doors locking automatically, you had little more to do than sit and pout and feel every bit the brat as Daryl buckled himself in and started the car.
“C’mon, Dar, this isn’t a joke. I could lose my job ‘cause of this,” you whined, threading your fingers through the wired metal barricade that separated you.
Daryl watched and waited for the other cruiser to fall behind him. Then he started off.
“Shoulda thought about tha’ before ya decided to show yer tits off ta the world, no?”
“Like four people saw us.”
In the rearview mirror, you could’ve sworn you saw a ghost of a smile cross Daryl’s lips.
“I got a pretty colorful phone call from a man named Eugene saying he saw three girls danglin’ half nekkid from a bridge tryin’ ta flag down a firetruck...Don’t sound all that discreet to me.” Daryl shrugged, pretending not to see you slump back in your seat.
“We were drunk!” you cried.
You threw your hands up and let them fall at your side, while Daryl made a wide left turn.
“So?”
“You’ve done plenty of dumb shit when you were drunk, Dixon. Don’t even start.” You raised your hand like you were talking to your mother as an angsty teen. The man in the driver’s seat hardly seemed fazed.
“Oh?”
You paused a beat, then jolted back up as an old memory stirred in your mind.
“Like— like the time you got so shitfaced on senior night that you stumbled into my room thinking it was the bathroom,” you said, hastily, “Pissed all over my floor.”
Daryl’s eyes darted up to meet yours in the mirror, sharing in that vague and ugly recollection from his college days.
“That was yer room?” he winced.
“I was twelve and terrified,” you said, hovering as close as the metal wall would allow you, “Didn’t even know what being piss-drunk meant until you decided to relieve yourself all over my Barbie rug.”
“Ah shit...I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“Let me out and we’ll call it even?” you ventured.
“Nuh-uh,” Daryl said, shaking his head, “Not how that works.”
You balled your hand in a fist and struck the wall between you, an exasperated sigh escaping your lips. Try as you might to fight it, you were still slightly buzzed and far more prone to anger than you normally would be. Daryl gave you a look.
“Pipe down, princess, ‘s’ain’t the end of the world.”
“And who the fuck are you to say?” you snapped, clenching your jaw.
Daryl pressed a bit harder on the brakes as he brought the car to a stop at a red light. Then he shot a look over his shoulder. His brow drew in just slightly.
“Yer a real brat, ya know that?”
“Really, pig?” you sneered.
“Yeah, slut.”
Your mouth fell open at the sound of Daryl’s first real insult. He’d been all placid smiles and gentle eyes, never lapsing in the civility of his rank or his respect for you, his close friend’s sister, until that point. You watched as his gaze visibly hardened and moved away from yours, foot hitting the gas when the light turned green.
“What did you just call me?”
“A fucking slut. ‘Cause tha’s what ya are,” Daryl answered, not missing a beat.
Had he lost his fucking mind? Who did he think he was? The man carried on, starting to increase the car’s speed,
“Nobody’s showin’ off a pair’a tits that damn pretty ‘less they’re a whore, ya know?”
You sat back in awe, hardly aware of the cruiser’s growing acceleration, or the fact that Daryl was just then starting to turn down a road you—and Rick and Shane—had never seen before. You were too offended. Flustered.
“Excuse m—”
“Yeah, I looked. You’ve got an incredible rack, really,” Daryl admitted as he cut you off, “Too bad it’s attached to such a worthless little slut.”
“Get fucked, Dixon,” you hissed, beating your fist against the divider once more.
“Oh, believe me, we will.”
Your blood likely would’ve run cold in your veins if you had the first clue what he was talking about. What did he mean by ‘we’? Why had he started smiling when he’d said that?
Presently, you looked out the window.
Where the everliving fuck had he taken you?
Instead of finding yourself parked outside the King County Sheriff’s Department, as expected, you cast a sidelong glance to the left and the right and saw nothing but trees. Wilderness. You were parked in a clearing, at what appeared to be a campground...in a quarry?
You turned back to Daryl, suddenly rigid with fear.
The driver’s side door was already slamming shut behind him. Instead of deigning so much as a glance at the back, he strode right past you and went over to the car that had just pulled up. Rick and Shane appeared just as confused as you were as they came to a stop.
You watched them, dumbstruck, pulse pounding in your ears as a hundred different thoughts danced in your mind and grew progressively darker the longer you stared. Were they going to torture you? Kill you? Cuff you to the car and kick the living shit out of you until you bled from the mouth and begged them for mercy?
There was no way the drunken fratboy of your youth, now a detective on the police force and your brother’s best friend, would do something so heinous, right?
You slinked back in your seat when you saw all three men turn and approach your car.
Now, more than ever, there was no place but the police car you wanted to be as Daryl flung the back door open and stuck his head inside.
“Hey,” he grinned, “Wanna talk?”
Before you knew it, your feet were planted on the rocky terrain directly in front of Daryl’s car, and your hands were clasped together. Not cuffed this time—just folded and trying to look as polite and unassuming as possible.
“We’ve got a proposition,” Daryl started, steady.
You watched him pace back and forth while the two other officers stood back in silence. Shane wore the faintest smirk.
“You don’t wanna go to jail, right?”
You shook your head no.
“Good, ‘cause we don’t really feel like bookin’ ya,” Daryl continued, “Too much paperwork an’ all tha’ bullshit.”
You nodded along, slowly. Relieved to hear you weren’t getting arrested but waiting to see what the ‘But…’ was.
“But, y’know— it wouldn’t be fair to let ya go that easy.”
You kept nodding. Now looking at Shane and Rick and finding both of them smiling.
“So I say we make ourselves a deal. That okay with you, sugar tits?” Daryl sneered.
You balked at the name but swallowed your pride and answered, ‘Uh huh’ in a small voice. Squeezed your hands even tighter together.
Daryl approached you for the first time. You stood there, trembling, still thinking there was a chance that the three of them might just beat the hell out of you right then and there—and you flinched when Daryl lifted his hand to your cheek.
He brushed a few loose hairs from your face.
“I think you need to start by saying sorry.” His voice was almost serene.
You blinked a couple times up at Daryl with wide, oblivious eyes, shaking your head when you didn’t understand what he meant.
“To Shane,” Daryl added.
Softly, he tilted your chin toward his friend, who was grinning even bigger now.
You struggled for a second, opening and closing your mouth a couple times before stammering:
“I-I’m sorry, Shane.”
Your voice barely reached them in a whisper. You were so confused.
And, just as you started to wonder if that was all they really wanted, or if there’d be some other catch, Daryl decided to supply you with a wordless answer before you could even ask. The “catch” caught you right on the backs of your legs as Daryl gave them a gentle kick, causing both to buckle underneath you. You fell to the ground on your hands and knees and straightened yourself up just in time to see Shane make his leisurely approach.
“I’m sorry, Shane,” you spluttered again, thinking he just wanted you to grovel there in front of him.
Daryl and Shane exchanged looks. Then they smirked at you.
“I think Shane would rather you show him how sorry you are,” Daryl said, suddenly leaning over to collect two handfuls of hair behind your head, “With your mouth.”
At any other time, such condescension dripping from a man’s tone would have turned you off—and pissed you off—immediately. With Daryl and Shane standing over you now, the former’s fingers slotting through your hair and the latter’s working to unzip his pants, you couldn’t imagine yourself being any more aroused.
It hit you like a ton of bricks, all at once.
They were there to fuck you, not fight you.
At least not in the way you’d imagined anyway. No doubt Shane was keen to get his fill, and might be a tad more aggressive than the others to get it, but Daryl would make sure he didn’t push too hard. He held your head in place while Shane pulled out his cock.
And, you hated to say it, but your mouth was salivating for a taste. You couldn’t be bothered to look up at either man now, just soaking in the sight of Shane’s thick, veiny member and feeling your face being moved closer to it. Not minding you were being manhandled as a gentle moan escaped your throat.
“Wanna show Shane how sorry ya are? Show him how good tha’ slutty little mouth’a yers can make him feel?” Daryl hummed.
“She’s droolin’, man,” Shane said, hardening at the sight.
You were. You couldn’t help it. You felt a thumb swipe at the spit that had just begun to trickle out of your mouth and sensed Rick at your side, enthralled as all the rest of them. Then that same finger drifted down to your tits, smearing the moisture all over one nipple before pinching the peak between two digits.
Your lips parted with another small whimper at the sensation, and Shane took that as his window to thrust his cock in your mouth. Caught off guard, you couldn’t help but gag when his tip hit the back of your throat, but Daryl steered your head back just in time so you weren’t choking on that first, single stroke.
“Easy, easy,” Daryl chided his friend as he watched your eyes water and your hand reach up to steady yourself against Shane’s thigh.
“You kiddin’? She fuckin’ loves it,” Shane grinned, “Don’t you, slut?”
You licked your lips and nodded. Didn’t bat an eye when Shane brought the head of his cock back down to your lips, and you quickly enveloped him in an open-mouthed kiss of sorts. Shane groaned at the sensation and couldn’t help but rut his hips.
“Such a fuckin’ whore,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
Daryl helped move your head up and down his length while you stared up at Shane with the prettiest, most fucked-out expression you could manage, and you felt his length twitch in your mouth. Daryl pulled you off.
“Now what do we say for kicking Officer Grimes, hm?”
Before you could answer, your face was tilted to the left, and you were met with the sight of Rick stroking his length at your side. A string of saliva still connecting your mouth to Shane’s cock, you looked up at the friendlier of the two officers and gave him a smile.
“I’m sorry, Officer Grimes.”
This time, Daryl let Rick take the reins, for a moment, and move your mouth over his shaft. You happily accepted him between your lips and started bobbing almost instantly. You relished the pleasure that flooded those soft blue eyes, the way they winced just a little when you took him to the back of your throat. Like he wanted to fuck your face but felt too overcome with some feeling or fear to give it a try.
You decided it was cruel to make a man so polite wait a second longer than he needed to. Presently, you pulled off Rick’s length with a gentle ‘pop’ and turned your head back over to Daryl.
“Can you please tell Officer Grimes to fuck my throat?”
All three of them froze for a second, taken back by the filth that had just come out of your mouth, still spoken so sweetly. You stroked Rick’s cock and pretended to be oblivious of what you saw. Deep down, you knew by the glint in their eyes they were yearning, lusting, fucking you in their minds with every innocent blink you made. You felt Daryl’s grip tighten in your hair.
“You heard the lady,” Shane said, words directed to Rick but gaze never leaving you.
Out of habit, his hand came to wrap around his own cock as he watched you take Rick’s. You glanced between the two of them, placed a quick kiss on the tip—first on Rick’s and then, to the men’s surprise, on Shane’s—and parted your lips when you moved back to Rick.
Officer Grimes didn’t hesitate this time. He leveled himself with your mouth and pushed all the way in. You started to moan, but the sound was audibly cut short by a spasm in your throat. Rick reached the back of your warm, wet orifice with ease and, going further than Shane ever went, actually slid down that space. Exactly how you wanted him. You bobbed your head and hummed to show your appreciation.
Encouraged by how eagerly you swallowed him and how quick your whimpers were to reverberate down his length, Rick moved his hips. Watched you gag once or twice and blink through a couple tears, before Daryl wiped the moisture away as Rick had done for your spit. You were every bit the pampered and primped fuckdoll in their hands, bobbing and licking and sucking him dry.
“Good girl,” Daryl murmured, massaging your scalp when you gagged again.
“Takin’ me so well,” Rick groaned as he fed you another inch.
Shane continued pumping his cock, grunting out expletives, and watching you all the while.
You pulled off of Rick for a moment. Whether it would piss them off or turn them on, you didn’t really care—but you reached up to Shane and replaced his hand with yours, before dropping a kiss over the head of his cock.
All three men seemed to love it. Especially Daryl.
Though he hadn’t made a move to get his own dick wet just yet, you got the sense the man loved to watch. Loved to see your mouth sliding up and down and swallowing more cock every time, thinking to himself what a nasty, filthy little whore you were and just waiting for the moment it would be his turn to claim your throat and the rest of your holes as his own. In the meantime, you wanted to give him a good show.
You jerked both Rick and Shane in either hand and chanced a look over at Daryl.
Locking eyes with him, you moved down over Rick and sucked half his length in your mouth. Then, just as quick, you took Shane between your lips and gave the tip a wet, spongy kiss before taking him to the back of your throat. The mound in Daryl’s pants grew even more pronounced.
“Hey,” Rick said, grazing your cheek with his knuckles, “Ain’t you gonna say sorry to Detective Dixon, too?”
You moaned against Shane’s throbbing length and made sure Daryl saw your tongue swirl over the tip. Teasing him now.
Presently, Shane pulled out of your mouth and grabbed hold of your hair.
“Gonna make him feel real good with that slutty little mouth’a yours, huh?” he growled.
You nodded and smiled. Wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and started crawling over to Daryl as soon as Shane let you go.
You couldn’t believe he’d waited this long—couldn’t believe you’d been sucking his friends dry all this time and hadn’t gotten so much as a glimpse at him. Daryl watched you with a comfortable, lopsided sort of smirk as you made your way over to him, clearly enjoying this view of you on all fours.
Not even a guillotine could take away the head you were about to give this man.
When you finally reached his knees and straightened up enough to reach for the zip of his brown slacks, you felt a hand catch you around the wrist. To your surprise, Daryl held you back and yanked you onto your feet.
“I wan’ my apology someplace else.”
That ‘place,’ you would come to learn, was simply on top of his car. Splayed out on the hood of his cruiser with your pants dragged all the way down to your ankles and kicked off at your feet. Daryl carried you there and stripped you down to your panties, leaving you all but naked and ogling him with keen, hungry eyes. Rick and Shane were quick to follow suit and seemed just as eager as you were to watch this scene unfold.
You reached for his clothed erection once more but found your hand swatted away.
“Nuh-uh,” Daryl shook his head.
You raised an eyebrow in question. You opened your mouth to speak but found yourself moaning instead when Daryl slipped a finger past your panties and between your folds. Somehow finding your clit quicker than you could even dream, he circled that tiny bundle of nerves with his thumb and teased the seal of your entrance with his middle and ring fingers.
You clawed at his wrist.
“But Dar— I-I wanna taste you so bad,” you pleaded.
Daryl grinned and plunged his two fingers deep inside you, holding your hip to the car to keep you from squirming. He nodded to Rick, who took that as his cue to press down on your other side. Together, they had you pinned to the hood and helpless under their touch.
Daryl curled his fingers up and caused you to moan.
“How bad?” he asked.
“So—” your voice broke off in a gasp when the pads of his fingers stroked your G spot, “So bad, Daryl, please.”
You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was savoring every second of this sight: you with your legs spread, begging and pathetic as he and Rick held you down. He probably would’ve liked to keep you there a little longer, maybe teased and fingerfucked you to the point of tears, but he got the sense that his friends weren’t possessed of quite the same patience. He’d just have to save the overstimulation for later.
Before you knew it, Daryl had given Rick another quick nod, released you from his hold, and pulled you off the car—before steadying you back on your feet, facing the vehicle.
Your hands flew out to catch yourself, but, before meeting metal, intercepted Daryl’s broad form instead. He took a seat on the front end of the car and caught you in both of his big, calloused palms.
“How ‘bout that taste, hm?” He was already starting to unbuckle his pants.
Finally. You promptly started to sink to your knees, when a light slap struck your cheek. You peeked up at its source and found Daryl shaking his head once more.
“Stay put,” he instructed as he started to pull his cock out of his boxers, “Rick’s gonna fuck tha’ slutty little cunt while ya suck me off, alright?”
It wasn’t so much a question as it was a signal—and an effective one at that—to get Rick off his ass and hurrying to get behind yours. In the next second, you felt a set of warm, calloused hands on your hips and a tender grip tugging you back to meet someone’s crotch.
Your pussy twitched with the realization of your current predicament: bent over between the two men, with Daryl’s cock mere inches from your face and Rick’s member throbbing above your heat. Never once had an image like this materialized in your mind’s wildest fantasies, but now that you were here, stuck between these two with Shane just then drawing closer, you found yourself turned on to no end.
You parted your lips to allow Daryl entry when Rick teased the head of his cock up your slit. You took just the tip of Daryl, trying to stifle a moan, and the man behind you rubbed the length of himself up and down the seam of your cunt to collect all your juices. Another inch of Daryl in your mouth and you were whimpering with the feeblest look up at him, needing Rick inside you too.
Daryl held your gaze and ran a hand over your head.
“Little slut needs her pussy fucked, does she?”
You nodded, bobbing gently over Daryl’s member. You were just preparing to ease him in another inch or two when all of a sudden, the head of his cock jumped to the back of your throat as Rick thrusted into you.
It was far less gentle than you’d expected, sending you deep down Daryl’s length and causing you to gag. You hardly had time to adjust, or pull off of the man in front of you to catch your breath, when Rick started pounding you from behind. Rutting his hips, grunting in time with his thrusts, and slapping your ass in quick, ruthless hits. Daryl groaned above you as you had no choice but to deepthroat him again and again.
Shane, ever impatient, approached your free hand and guided it toward his erection. He wrapped your fingers around his cock and helped you stroke him quick, all while your mouth and pussy were presently occupied by Daryl and Rick’s sloppy thrusts.
“Ya like gettin’ spitroasted, huh? Like gettin’ fucked in two holes at once?” Shane sneered.
“Fuckin’ loves it,” Rick answered for you with a smirk, “Never seen a pussy this wet in my life.”
You imagined all of them could see and hear the arousal oozing from your freshly-fucked cunt, but you sensed no one liked it better than Daryl. The man was entranced with the sight of your form getting fucked from behind, sucking him deeper, looking up through your wet, tear-stained lashes as you let him fuck your face. That pure euphoric look in his eyes was almost like a drug—you wanted nothing more than to keep it there as long as you could.
Mere minutes later, Rick’s hips were stuttering against your own and his cum was spraying all over your insides. You didn’t stop sucking Daryl.
Shane gladly switched places with Rick and took a greedy handful of your hips before pumping his cock once or twice. You flattened your tongue against Daryl’s member and took him even further down your throat.
The man behind you was panting, right about to breach your folds when a sight below him held him in place.
Rick’s load was just then starting to dribble out of your pussy, leaving a long white trail of milky residue down your slit.
Shane clenched his jaw.
“Still hungry for more, slut?” he said through gritted teeth. To your surprise, you felt his fingertips trace the outline of your cunt and start moving up toward your other hole.
He was coating your asshole with Rick’s cum, grinning when you flinched.
“Think she’s ever been fucked in the ass before?” Shane asked the others. He slipped a digit inside your hole and watched you moan on Daryl’s dick.
Daryl pulled you off his cock and held you by your hair, your mouth saturated with strings of fresh saliva.
“Have you?”
You swallowed and shook your head. Daryl didn’t let his gaze linger on you another second. He signaled to Rick.
“Right there,” he pointed with his chin.
You hardly knew what was going on or where Rick had hastened off to. All you could comprehend was the gruff tone of Daryl’s voice telling you to get up, now, and the feel of Shane’s hands still holding you, guiding you back to your feet. When you didn’t move fast enough for his liking, Shane simply swept you up in his arms bridal-style and started carrying you himself.
Over his shoulder, you spied Daryl and Rick exchanging words and the latter placing the blanket you’d worn earlier on the ground. You almost felt tempted to ask Shane what they were planning to do, just starting to speak, when the man brought you over to the spot and set you right down.
The three of them had you circled in an instant.
Before the question could even form on your lips, you watched Daryl join you on the blanket. His smirk was evident.
He patted his lap for you to come straddle him.
When he started to lie down, your hands followed suit, eager to rest on either side of his chest, but another touch held you back. Behind you, Shane had grabbed hold of your hair and turned your head to face him.
“Spit,” he ordered, holding his hand under your chin.
You did as you were told and watched him rub your spit all over his shaft, before bringing his hand up to your face again and repeating his command.
At the same time, Daryl had lifted his hips and was guiding you closer to his cock. Your gaze moved down, then up, then over at Rick with a look of confusion, only to dart back to Daryl when you felt him split you open with a single thrust.
You had just been impaled on Daryl’s cock, mind reeling at the stretch and sensation, when you felt two fingers slip between your legs from behind. Daryl gripped your face and brought it down to his—wouldn’t let you look over your shoulder as the other man’s hand started to traverse the contour of your ass.
You were pulled in for a kiss as Daryl bottomed out inside you. Tongue hardly able to keep up with his as moans and whimpers went bubbling up in your throat, you just sat there, straddled him, and let him use your pussy any way he pleased. He snapped his hips and groaned your name between your lips, while the hand that was prodding you from behind finally reached its intended destination.
You yelped into Daryl’s mouth the second you felt a full, hefty finger slip inside your ass. Officer Walsh, no doubt.
The two men at your rear all but moaned as your tight little hole contracted around Shane’s finger and Daryl continued to pound you from below. It was odd, that sharp, disparate feeling of Daryl’s cock drilling your pussy while Shane’s digit pumped a much slower pace in your ass. Your senses had kicked into overdrive, and you couldn’t keep from showing your pleasure with every sound that you made.
Shane withdrew just long enough to add another finger, smearing a mixture of cum, spit, and your own juices all over your walls for lubrication. You sensed him moving closer, when Rick grabbed hold of his shoulder.
“Give her a minute,” he muttered.
Shane scoffed, shaking him off.
“Little whore looks plenty ready to me,” he retorted as he eyed your slick, sensitive hole.
Suddenly, your throat was clasped in Shane’s big hand and your head pulled tight against his chest. He had taken his cock in his other hand and was angling his length just right to press the head between your cheeks. Daryl had slowed almost completely.
“C’mere.” Daryl beckoned you closer with a tender look. When you leaned down to lay flat on his chest, he smiled, stroked your hair, “Jus’ hold on ta me, alright?”
Your walls were already squeezing his cock like a vice and your fingernails making white-hot crescents in his shoulders—you couldn’t hold him tighter if you tried—but you nodded. You let him kiss you again, felt a little more fit to take his tongue this time, and eased down along his shaft until you were filled to the brim with nothing but him.
That last part changed as soon as Shane thrust into your ass.
You jolted forward and instinctively tried to pull off his cock, but Daryl held you tight. Brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face and started peppering your skin with kisses the louder you whimpered.
“Doin’ so good for us, baby— takin’ our cocks so well,” he cooed in your ear.
You whined at the fierce burn between your legs as both Daryl and Shane pushed inside you. Rough fucking was one thing, but being penetrated in both holes simultaneously while sandwiched between two men just brought the sensations to entirely new heights. You clawed at Daryl’s shoulders and damn near sunk your teeth straight through your bottom lip.
“Good girl,” the man below you mumbled as he watched your face contort in a medley of pleasure and pain, “Tha’s my good girl.”
“Fuckin’ whore,” Shane spat, shoving his cock even deeper. Clearly not one for tender anal training.
Now it was Daryl going slow and sweet, just barely stirring his cock inside you while Shane slapped your ass and yanked your hips over his own. You saw Rick’s previously-deflated cock grow hard in his hands, and you proceeded to watch him watch you as he stroked himself a few feet away.
You needed another distraction. You caught Rick’s eye and simply licked your lips in silent invitation. He was filling your mouth in a matter of seconds.
With three cocks pumping in and out of you, you felt every bit the fucked-out brat you knew they’d wanted to claim. Your brain had all but melted to mush in their hands, your body manhandled and fucked every which way while your thoughts yielded, in turn, to pure anoesis.
There was something unusually freeing about being a living, breathing fuckdoll for these three King County cops. You couldn’t get enough.
Rick pulled his dick out of your mouth just long enough to slap you with it.
“This what ya needed?” he teased, tapping the head of his cock on your spit-painted cheeks, “A good fucking in all your holes to make you behave?”
You stuck out your tongue and tried to nod, your body still shaking with every thrust from Daryl and Shane. Instead of pushing back in, Rick simply rubbed his cock all over your face and shot you a look that was soaked to the core with condescension. Somewhere below, Daryl began toying with your clit.
You sucked in a breath between broken moans and clenched harder around both men inside you.
“Think she wants a switch,” Rick grinned.
In a minute, you felt yourself hoisted back up—Shane pulling out and Daryl rising swiftly to his feet. Two sets of hands helped maneuver your body to a position you’d never tried, never even seen before as your legs hooked over either one of Daryl’s arms and your ass was thrust back. Then, to your relief, it was Rick at your rear this time, rubbing his tip along your red and stretched out hole while your head came to rest on his shoulder.
You were pressed between the men once more and cradled comfortably in their arms. Daryl took care not to rut into you too hard while Rick was still coating your arousal across the hole Shane had just fucked raw.
“Shh, shh,” Rick’s lips dropped close to your ear while he pressed a wet finger inside, trying to relubricate the area.
You wiggled and squirmed, a bit too sensitive to keep still at this point, so Shane reached in and took you by the throat.
“Hold still,” he snapped. Stroking himself with his free hand.
You watched his eyes drift down to the spot where he’d just been, where Rick was trying to squeeze into, and felt the first real twinge of bliss when you felt the head of his cock tease your entrance. This was softer, even sweet. Paired with Daryl’s extra slow thrusts and the sounds all three were making as you spread your legs even wider, you first became aware of a knot in your tummy.
When the warmth of your ass enveloped just the tip of him, you felt it constrict even tighter.
Rick let out a groan and struggled to keep from thrusting too hard. Shane tightened his grip on your neck.
“C’mon now, sugar tits, don’t act like you ain’t just—”
“Shane,” Daryl growled.
Rick didn’t stop. You squeezed both cocks and moaned.
“I’m just sayin’ if the slut could fit my cock in and—”
“Fuck,” Rick hissed.
You were bouncing in between them now, head lolled back on Rick’s shoulder and hand pressed flush against Daryl’s chest. Steeped in pleasure as they stood and fucked you stupid.
Shane continued to tug his cock and stare you down with hungry, possessive eyes.
Daryl’s moans turned to shallow grunts while Rick’s breath fanned soft across your cheeks in ragged breaths. You writhed and you grinded between their two bodies, too lost in your own ascent to pleasure to sense anything else. Your skin was wet with a sheen of sweat and both holes all but soaked between the two men. Their cocks plunging in and out at a vicious pace until the coil in your stomach was nearly starting to ache.
“Feelin’ good?” Rick hummed in your ear.
“Gettin’ close?” Daryl joined.
Shane’s hand closed around your throat until your lungs could scarcely breathe and your vision blurred with stars. Making one last strangled moan, you rolled your hips and felt something taut and tight and blisteringly hot break loose across your abdomen—and not just the ropes of cum shooting deep inside you.
Alongside that tiny eruption came a blitz of pleasure unlike anything you’d ever felt before. Your body went haywire, every square inch of your skin alight with ecstasy and your mind going numb in a surge of bliss. You moaned and felt the walls of both holes spasm desperately over Daryl and Rick alike, and suddenly, something far beyond your control seemed ready to tear your body in two.
A beat of silence. Your consciousness gradually returned.
When you opened your eyes, the first thing to grace your sight was Daryl’s shining face, grinning ear to ear with the happiest expression.
You blinked and watched him closer.
As your vision adjusted and the world came clearer into view, you caught a glimpse of what seemed to have stretched Daryl’s smile so wide—and what had made his features so unusually luminous in this light.
Your eyes widened.
Daryl glanced to Rick, then Shane.
“Who knew she’d be a squirter?”
Presently, your juices were coating Daryl’s face and chest, having spurted straight from your cunt in the throes of climax and spraying all over his front.
Your pussy still clenched and convulsed as the cum from either man went seeping out of both holes.
Even Shane was left speechless, having just milked the last of his own release and watched you come undone in near-pornographic fashion. His chest was still heaving, blinking in disbelief and exchanging sly looks with Daryl and Rick every now and then. Rick pressed a kiss to your shoulder and smiled.
And, just when it seemed any one of you were liable to break that spell of silence with a laugh, the rattle of radio feedback startled you all.
Somewhere amidst the articles of clothing strewn around you, a walkie talkie clipped to one officer’s belt rang loud with the sound of a voice from a neighboring county’s dispatcher.
“All available units, high-speed pursuit in progress— Linden County units request local assistance. Highway 18 eastbound, GTA, ADW, 2-17, 2-4-3. Advise extreme caution.”
All three men stood to attention. Daryl and Rick lowered you quickly to the ground while Shane went scrambling for his clothes.
“Suspects are two male Caucasians. Be advised they have fired upon police officers. One Linden County officer is wounded.”
“Shit!” Rick hissed.
“Unit 1, unit 3, to eastbound Route 18. Two miles west of Interstate 85. Will patch in Linden County sheriff radio.”
“Is tha’—” Daryl started.
“We need to go,” Shane interrupted.
Another voice broke out over the line,
“Roger that. We’re five minutes south of the Route 18 intersection.”
Daryl tossed you what garments of yours he could find and snatched your arm in a breakneck haste. Before you could so much as slip your shirt over your head, though, you found yourself carted back over to his squad car and pushed toward an open door.
“What’s—”
“I’ll explain on the way.”
For reasons you couldn’t yet understand, you knew this call didn’t bode well for any of you. You took one last look at Officer Grimes and felt a twist in your stomach.
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coryosbaby · 11 months
Text
Cherry on Top !
synopsis: flashing your dad’s best friend leads to making milkshakes and a pounding on the kitchen counter.
Cw: age gap (reader is of age, anakin is in his 30s) // nsfw . flashing, tit play, pnv, ‘just the tip’ (for a minute), major size kink, light food play, creampie
Notes: this prob has a lot of errors, my bad
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It starts off small, at first.
It’s not as if you meant to do it the first time. It was summer, hot, and you were in desperate need of release from your bathing suit that had been becoming less and less damp by the hour. Anakin, having a few beers with your dad, had decided to make his way from the bathroom upstairs. Not thinking, he had decided to open your door and ask you if you wanted pizza for dinner— per your dads request, of course. You were in the middle of taking off your bathing suit, and your bikini top was off. Anakin had paused, and when you noticed him you immediately began to scream at him to get out. He had complied, but he couldn’t help the hardness in his jeans at the sight of your full, perfectly rounded tits. Your nipples had been on display, perky despite the hot weather, and you were so gorgeous with the mounds sitting against your chest. Anakin hasn’t thought about anything else since.
And you know it, too. So that’s why every few weeks you decide to rejog his memory. He’ll be doing things when no one is around, the most random tasks, and you’ll lift your shirt up to your neck. You love the look that always glazes his face— that look of shock, that registers as he turns around from making a bowl of popcorn for movie night, or coming back from the kitchen to get another beer. His eyes bulge out of his head and a blush coats his cheeks. And then after a moment, he’ll get cocky that you’re doing this, doing this for his gaze, he’ll quietly mutter, “tease”. You always let out a tiny giggle, pulling your top back down.
“You gonna do something about it?” You always reply, and he always shakes his head with an amused look and turns back to his original task. But nothing can stop the way his cock twitches and swells every single time, the way you can see his knuckles turning white as he grips the kitchen counter as your dad walks back in, unknowing. He knows he shouldn’t make a move, so he doesn’t.
Until now, in this present moment: your dad has went out grocery shopping, anakin has decided to come over early, and you’ve asked him to make you a chocolate milkshake. You’re practically a brat— daddy gives you anything you want, and so does Anakin. So of course he’s going to get out the ice cream, milk, and other ingredients. His back muscles ripple as he pours the things into the blender, and the sight almost makes you drool. Smiling, you watch as he throws in some chocolate syrup. Diabetes for everyone else, but perfect for you— Anakin always knows exactly what you want.
“Don’t understand how your teeth aren’t rotting out of your head,” he grumbles, even though he’s the one adding additional sugary ingredients.
“Good dentist,” you quip. You lift yourself up onto the counter and swing your sock clad feet against the cabinet. “Can you add a cherry, too?”
“You know I always do, baby.”
The nickname makes heat creep up your neck. Biting your lower lip, you watch as he finishes making the milkshake and pours it into your favorite glass. He sprays on whipped cream, and of course, places a maraschino cherry on top. He grabs the heart shaped straw beside the drink and sticks it inside
He hands it over to you and you take a big sip. You lick up some of the whipped cream as Anakin looks at you for approval. His eyes follow your tongue coated in white.
“Good?” He asks, curious. You nod happily, beginning to sip again. He smiles, and begins to make one for himself. Your panties dampen as you watch the back of his shoulders once again.
He must be so strong, you think.
He finishes up his milkshake, sticking another straw into the a full glass.
You do what you usually do at times like these, and lift the hem of your top. Your nipples harden from the cold air. Clearing your throat, you tilt your head.
“Ani?”
“Yes?”
At the sound of your soft voice, he turns around. When he’s met with the sight of your tits, all plump and pretty, he immediately latches on to the look of them. Usually you don’t keep your shirt up for longer that a few seconds, but you don’t budge this time. Anakin’s gaze turns from amused to hungry in a matter of seconds.
“I need some help,” you breathe out. Anakin wavers. He’s used to your constant teasing, but this is new.
“With?”
Your eyes are pleading, as you look up at him.
“They hurt, ani,” you say. “Need you to rub them for me.”
He sets his glass down, moving around the bar to where you’re perched on the kitchen counter. Watching your desperation, he licks his lips.
“You don’t know what you’re doing.” He starts, voice low.
“I want you,” you say quietly to him. He shakes his head, almost resistant. But your pleading face can only be said no to a few times before anakin finally gives in, and when you begin to rub your tits with your own hands he scolds you.
“Stop that.”
“Why? Don’t you want me?”
He exhales sharply, trying to avert his gaze but he simply can’t. Approaching you slowly, he seethes.
“You’re asking for it.”
“Mhm..” you murmur softly. “Daddy’s gonna be home in an hour, though.. needa hurry.”
You let out a tiny moan when finally, finally, Anakin’s fingers ghost over the peak of your nipple. He’s trying so hard to keep control. His palms are inches away from groping your chest, but he’s holding back.
“Daddy’s not gonna be happy if I do this.” He mutters. He looks up at you with something dark in his gaze. “Daddy’s gonna know you’ve been a bad little girl.”
You push against his hands. His skin rubs against your nipples in the best way.
“Maybe I want him to know.”
It’s fucked up. But Anakin’s cock is aching after that comment, and he begins to lightly rub your tits in his hands.
“Yeah?” He groans, breath heavy. “Maybe we could take a few pictures next time. Post ‘em, let everyone see how much of a whore you are. Seducing daddy’s buddy like this… breaking a big rule, baby. Everyone would love to see it.”
Next time. The thought makes you keen, and you nod as he begins to heavily grope you.
“Bet your dad would be so mad that his little girl’s being such a whore,” He continues. “God, just wait until I get my fuckin’ cock in you…”
“And you’ll what?” You taunt against him. You lean into his earlobe and bite it playfully. “Bend me over? Fuck me in my bedroom when my parents are downstairs? Know you’ve always wanted to.”
Anakin let’s out something between a groan and a whimper, and his hands move from your tits to your hips. Your thighs spread simultaneously, and he places his hips in between yours. You wrap your legs around his back and pull him closer to you.
“Been wantin’ your cock since i graduated…” you mumble, running your nails along his shoulders. “Saw you in that suit when I was giving my valedictorian speech— before that, too.”
“A suit, huh?” He doesn’t kiss you on the mouth just yet, but he leaves little bites and runs his tongue along your collarbone. “That’s cute.”
“Mmmh. Gonna kiss me, yet? Or are you too weak to get it up, old man?”
“Old man?” He chuckles darkly, his grip tightening as he grinds his clothed cock against you. “Only ten years older than you…not even forty yet.”
“Still old to me,” you argue, and press your cunt against him. He shakes his head in disbelief.
“That mouth’s gonna get you in a lot of trouble.” he mutters, and then his lips are pressing against yours, hot, heavy, tasting like chocolate and something that’s predominantly Anakin. It’s something you’ve been craving for years, and your hair goes up to his blonde locks and pulls. The sound he lets out is utterly sinful, and you probe his lip with your tongue. He understands your challenge, but is quick to shove his tongue into your mouth instead to assert dominance over you. You gasp for breath when he pulls away and begins unbuckling his belt.
“Would taste you first, pretty girl, but we don’t have time.”
And then he’s pulling his cock out, and he’s stroking it and it’s wet and it’s so big— circumcised with a pretty pink tip, a tuft of trimmed, light brown hair at the base of him, seven or eight inches, incredibly thick — and he’s dripping. He must’ve been worked up for a long while, watching you in your pretty pink skirt all day. Precum leaks over his fist as he moves.
He’s absolutely gorgeous as he tilts his head back. He’s putting on a show for you, and you know that he must be addicted to the attention. You look up with him at doe eyes and you push his hand away and replace it with your own. He stares into your eyes as you jerk him, his mouth open into the shape of an O.
You slide your panties to the side, rubbing your clitoris between your fingers. You’re aching for Anakin, and you clench as you guide his cock towards your awaiting entrance. You rub him a little on your clit, and it makes you quiver. You press him up against you and he watches with arousal evident in his gaze. You want him so bad, but he’s so big. Would he even fit?
“Go on,” Anakin demands as he sees your hesitation. “Let me get my cock inside there, angel. Let me see what that pretty pussy feels like.”
You bite your lip, wanting to please him. You spread your thighs a bit more, using your other hand to grab one of your pussy lips and spread yourself open. Anakin’s tip breaches you, and after a moment you push it in until you feel full enough. When his thick cockhead pops in, you let out a tiny squeak.
Anakin groans the moment his cock is inside your heat, the tightness and warmth almost too much. You haven’t even taken half of him, but you can feel the burn from the stretch. Your walls ache trying to accommodate him. You can feel tears well up in your eyes from the feeling, and Anakin’s thumb brushes against your bottom lip as he coos at you.
“Oh, honey. Yeah, take the tip, baby. Jus’ like that… only a few more pushes ‘n I’ll be all the way in my baby…”
“Just the tip?” You sniffle, hands grasping at his tattooed shoulders.
“Mmm..” is all Anakin says, and then he pushes into you again, forcing his cock to make its way past your velvety walls.
Okay, you think. So not just the tip.
The tears really begin to fall now, his length also getting to you as he bullies his way into your tiny pussy. You can feel how much he’s throbbing inside of you, and if you didn’t know any better you would think that you can feel his precum leaking inside your womb.
Anakin’s mouth is open, and he watches with fascination as your pussy swallows him whole. It’s been a while since he’s had such a nice cunt, and the fact that you’re taking it for him— even though it hurts you, even though daddy is gonna be home soon— makes him so fucking horny. The guilt he felt before has now washed away into something primal and dark. He wants to claim you from the inside out. Fuck morals— he’s taken care of you for years, hasn’t he? Shouldn’t he be rewarded with something? Besides, you’ve been showing your tits to him for weeks— you’ve been initiating it and practically begging for him to split you open like this. So how is it wrong, Anakin thinks, as his cock finally, finally fills you to the brim completely?
Yes, you heard that right. His hips are finally pressing against you, he’s finally balls deep inside your tiny cunt. You had begun crying a few seconds ago, hot salty tears staining your cheeks. Anakin leans down and licks them up with his tongue.
“So pretty when you cry,” he murmurs against you. “Look at that. Took all of me, baby. I’m so proud of you.”
Your heart clenches, along other things, and you rest your face in his neck as he begins to slowly move.
“You are?”
“Always so proud of you,” he whispers. He presses a kiss to your forehead, sweet despite the current situation. “Gonna fuck you now, pretty girl.”
And that he does. Slow, at first, but his thrusts soon gain speed and something is beginning to build in your tummy.
“Faster.” You whine into his mouth as he kisses you. “Faster, Ani, please!”
And of course, he goes faster. He increases his pace and his hips hit yours ferociously. It’s not long before his heavy sack is slapping against your ass and he’s groaning as he pounds you against the granite countertop.
“Yeah?” He groans. “You like when I fuck you like this? Like my big cock splitting you open? Clenching on me so tight, baby, like you don’t wanna let me go.”
You mewl, grabbing onto him tight. You watch as his eyes land on your milkshake glass a little ways away. It’s still halfway full.
He reaches over, pulling it towards the both of you. He dips his finger in, scooping up some the now melting whipped cream.
“Can’t waste it,” he murmurs.
He rubs it along one of your nipples, coating it in white. He brings his tongue down, suckling the pebbled bud into his awaiting mouth. Your eyes roll back, nerves on fire as he scrapes his teeth against your flesh. He does the same to your other nipple, dripping with chocolate, and then is quick to shove his fingers down your throat. Sugar invades your taste buds, chocolate and whipped cream and syrup, and you greedily lick it up and suckle his fingers with your heavy tongue. He grunts, watching as you practically drink from his digits.
“Good girl,” he coos. “Good fuckin’ girl. Making me feel so good.. pussy’s so tight… yeah, lick me clean, you filthy bitch.”
You tighten, wetness leaking creamy streaks down his length. His degradations are making you even more eager to cum around him.
He smells so nice and he looks so good and you’re already so close. Anakin knows it, too, and his fingers on his opposite hand reach down to rub your clit with his thumb.
“C’mon, honey.” He taunts. “Cum for Ani, baby, need you to cum on my cock so fuckin’ bad.”
Your eyes roll back, clenching up around him like a vice as his fingers fill your throat. You let out a strained, animalistic sound, as you coat his cock in your slick. It’s the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had— either because of Anakin’s fingers, his big cock, or the fact that you’ve been in love with him since the age of eighteen. But either way, you let out a loud moan as you hit your peak, thrusting your hips against his as his cock hits that special, spongey spot inside of you. Even when you come down, Anakin’s hips are still pressed flush against you and he’s still pounding your cunt like it’s his salvation.
His fingers press against your pretty thigh highs, some of them still sticky from the milkshake, and you can tell by the sweat on his brow and the stuttering of his hips that he’s close. You begin to taunt him with sweet, sugar coated words.
“Give me your cum, Ani.” You whine. “Please? I need it, need you to fill up my pussy. It needs your cum so bad—“
“Fuck!”
Anakin moans, loud, and his head tilts back as he slams into you one last time. Rope after rope shoots into your gaping pussy, and Anakin fucks himself through his orgasm until it’s on the brink of painful. When he looks down, he watches as he slowly pulls his fat cock out of your hole. The creamy strings of his cum stick to your pussy lips and his cock, and when his used tip plops out of your hole, a waterfall of thick hot cum spills out of you and onto the countertop. Anakin’s eyes are firey still, and he moves your legs further apart and lifts your hips up so he can watch the puddle of spend in your gaping hole.
“So beautiful,” he mutters. His finger moves down to play with it a little bit, and it makes you clench. “Does my cum feel good, baby?”
You nod, dizzy. He smiles, watching your tired eyes begin to flutter shut.
“No, no.” He says gently, slapping the side of your cheek. “…Wake up, honey. Your dad’s gonna be home soon.”
Slowly, you peel them open and he lets go of your shaking legs. He carries you up to your room, lays you down on the pretty pink sheets, shuts the light off. He cleans up the mess downstairs. All the while, you slip into a dazed and peaceful sleep.
And when Anakin throws the last cum coated napkin away in the garbage can, your dad arrives home with no idea what has just occurred between his precious girl and his best friend.
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i2sunric · 4 months
Text
HOLD YOUR BREATH (s.jy)
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pairing: detective!jake x reader (f)
summary: not having seen your husband’s face in two days, you decide to bring him dinner and check up on him— sleep deprived and stressed, he can’t help but get a taste of you.
warnings: 1960s au. mentions of murder, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), pussy eating, pussy drunk jake (r we even surprised), semi-public sex, choking, p in v, jake is a detective, jake wears glasses, sex on desk, dirty talking, pet names (baby, love, darling), wall sex, breeding kink, cream pie, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.
wc: 3.7k
published: 11th June 2024
taglist: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @jwnghyuns @seunghancore @bangtancultsposts s @shawnyle (oneshot) @kirinaa08 @immelissaaa @skzenhalove @anittamaxwynnn @honeybunnee @cherlv
a/n: based on this ask from anon! sorry if it took me a while to prepare it, hope you like it tho <3 please LIKE & REBLOG!
Being a detective in the 60s wasn’t easy at all. With all the danger occurring and newly killers all walking around, trying to take lives as if they were useless, you couldn’t help but bite your nails as you waited for Jake at home.
But being a detective’s wife was even more difficult. The constant dread fuelling your heart until it was too heavy to carry.
One late Friday night, you were sitting by the kitchen table all alone. The warm June air hitting your skin since you left your window open, watching as the sun was beginning to set.
You had already deep cleaned the whole apartment, probably not even a single crumb of dust was left.
Then, you rearranged the books on the shelves.
In the morning, alphabetically and in the afternoon from the oldest to the newest. Ridiculous.
Utterly bored, you had even painted your nails of a weird shade of green that matched your favourite blouse-skirt set.
You weren’t even being dramatic, given the fact that your only company hadn’t shown his face at home for two days.
Date a detective, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.
It was everything but fun or entertaining, since you spent most of the time alone, due to his crazy schedules.
But you loved Sim Jake too dearly to even consider confronting him about it.
You heard a few stories about old ladies’ nieces at the hair salon you worked who got forced into marriage and you were so glad it hadn’t happened to you.
Because you knew it, bet your heart on it that Jake would always choose you first.
You glanced at the clock that ticked half past seven and like the perfect wife you were, you began to wonder if Jake was even taking care of himself. Had he eaten enough? Had he even eaten at all?
So, rolling up your sleeves, you cooked a delicious meal to bring him to his workplace. Inside the small lunch box was some warm miso soup and vegetables for his big, sexy brain.
Repressing the shiver that ran through your spine when you stepped out of your house and immediately spotted a ‘Missing Person’ sign, you started walking down the familiar road. You just thanked the sun was still high enough to bring some natural source of light.
You reached his office when it was dark already, having walked almost one hour away. Cursing the heels you forced yourself to wear even as your feet screamed for help, you knocked on the door.
The new detective Jake introduced you at a dinner showed up, bright smile and innocence plastered on his face “Hello! Miss Sim.”
You smiled back “Good evening, Mister Kim.” Sunoo stepped aside from the door “Looking for Detective Sim?”
You hummed as you took in the sight of the very dark hallway “Third door on the left, is that right?”
Sunoo nodded happily, “You remembered.” He then placed one hand on the side of his mouth to whisper “But I warn you, he’s not in the brightest mood.”
Oh goodness. “Thank you for the information.” You said as you walked away, to the door that led to your husband’s office.
Softly knocking on the door, you waited for his response, and when his grumpy “What?” From the other side, you decided to open the door.
And there your husband was, his hair sticking to every direction while his glasses almost fell down his nose bridge.
Jake was playing billiards, leaning against the table as he desperately tried to get in the ball. A simple task that seemed not to work for him, since he looked so distressed.
A cigar balanced between his upper and bottom lip, its smoke lingering in the air.
When his chocolate brown eyes finally settled on your figure, they softened in a way that made your heart skip a beat.
“Y/N.” Jake breathed out, placing down the pool stick on the table and walking towards you as you closed the door “What are you doing here?”
“I brought you dinner.” You raised the lunch box in your hand, smiling “Figured you might need it.”
His brows knitted, a frown appearing on his face “You walked here all alone?” He glanced at the clock that ticked nine already “It’s dangerous, baby.” Don’t let yourself be fooled by the sweet nickname, his tone was low and rather pissed.
Being in contact with crime most of his day, Jake grew very protective of you, and directly imposed that you wouldn’t go out without him — or any male friend — after six pm.
You shook your head and let out a small sigh “I’m here, aren’t I?” You said as you walked towards his desk to place down the lunch box.
“Besides, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You tilted your head, resting your back on the table “Haven’t you missed me?”
“Christ, Y/N.” He walked toward you right away, closing the space you had put “I missed you like crazy.”
He dropped his head low and sighed tiredly “But there has been another murder and we can’t figure out who the culprit is. I’m in deep-sea here.”
You gently cupped his cheek in your small palm and rubbed your thumb “Maybe you should take a break?” You suggested “Working too hard fries your brain.”
Jake nodded “Maybe I should.” He murmured and looked behind his shoulders “Wand to play pool?”
You grimaced “You know I can’t play that game.” His lips twitched into a smile wrapping a strong arm around your waist. "I could teach you." He told you, lowering his head and brushing his lips against your ear.
You placed your hands with your newly polished nails on his clothed chest, right under his shoulders "I'm afraid I'm a lost case at this game, even for the greatest detective in town."
Jake chuckled lowly and tilted his head to press his lips against your own, sliding a hand downward to grip your thigh. He parted his lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth and tilting you backwards in between his body and the desk.
Jake took the opportunity to grip your thigh and spread it apart, too eager to even care about having a make out session first. He slipped his hand under your skirt and groaned when he felt your folds right under his fingers.
"Goodness, you didn't seem to be wearing anything." Jake mumbled against your lips before trailing his own down your jawline and to your neck.
His fingers pressed against your core and he groaned lowly, sliding his fingers across your entrance.
You let out a quiet gasp at the feeling and let out a small chuckle before his fingers delved deeper inside of you, moving in and out of your wetness while kissing across your jawline.
"You seem quite needy already, love." He mumbled with his gravelly voice. You grasped the back of his head and rested your forehead on his, your eyes never leaving his.
He kissed the tip of your nose, such a gentle gesture in contrast to the filthy thing he was doing to your body, the sound of your slickness pooling down your thighs and on his wrist filled the room— until it was interrupted by a knock on the door.
Cursing under his breath for not having locked the door when you first came in, and not having foreshadowed his fingers deep inside you, he pressed a finger on his lips to shush you. “Who is it?” He then asked.
“Detective Sim?” Someone’s voice came from the other side “The captain wants to speak with you, sir.”
He was about to turn the doorknob when Jake said “Busy at the moment.”
The other detective stepped back from the door but didn’t walk away. “It’s important.” He said bluntly.
You thought that at those words, Jake would leave you there on the table and go doing his job, instead he curled his finger inside of you, making you press a hand on your mouth to middle a moan.
“You can tell me from there.” The detective began speaking and Jake looked down at you, his eyes darkened as he continued to move his fingers in a circular motion inside of you. "Keep quiet, mh?" He whispered to you, his tone smug.
You let out a shaky breath and grasped his forearm, doing your best to not let out any noise.
He let out a low chuckle, curling his fingers again to draw a moan from you. "Shh, you have to be quiet." He whispered and the detective continued to speak.
Not like you could focus on what he was saying with the way his fingers worked you closer to the edge.
“About the murder cases we were working on…” The detective said, “I have an update.”
Jake tilted his head at the mention of the case and kept his fingers moving inside you. "And what is the update?" He called out, not letting up his movements at all.
You couldn’t take it anymore and tried to remove his wrist, "Detective Park found a similarity with the other two murders, seems like the culprit puts a small signature."
Jake ignored your piss-poor attempt to stop him as he continued to talk to the detective with a nonchalant tone.
"What sort of signature?" He questioned, a smirk on his lips while he continued his movements with a particular curling of his fingers.
Your legs shook as he kept hitting your sweet spot “He cuts the ring finger's nail of all the victims." The detective informed him.
Upon hearing the information Jake's eyes widened slightly before moving his sight back down to you. His fingers continued their ministrations, drawing more tremors from your body though his mind was working at the new information revealed to him.
Not hearing any reaction from the inside, Jake’s colleague added “Detective park said to find him when you aren't... busy?” He cleared his throat and for a second you thought he guessed what was happening “I'll tell him you'll talk to him later?"
Your husband hummed lowly as he thought back to the information, continuing to work his fingers in and out of you as if it helped him think. "Yes, I will come talk to him after." He told the detective with a steady voice, his eyes taking in your expression while his gaze darkened.
With the dismissal, the person’s steps went away until they completely disappeared. Jake smirked and moved his fingers faster, curling on your g-spot.
He lowered his head, pressing his lips against the side of your neck and up to your earlobe. "Just a little more, love." He whispered in your ear.
You moaned shakily, now finally able to let it out. You wrapped one arm around his neck to steady yourself as the other rested behind you.
You clenched around his two digits, the knot in your stomach tightening.
Jake let out a soft growl in your ear, his fingers curling against your sweet spot. "Not yet, wait." He demanded.
“W-what?” You frowned, unable to stop the euphoria creeping in “Why?”
Jake smirked against your ear "I'm not done with you yet, love." he mumbled huskily before taking your lobe in his mouth and sucking on it.
His fingers worked you until another moan nearly escaped your lips and he took that opportunity to capture them in his own "Quiet, you don't want anyone to hear you being a noisy little thing, do you?"
You shook your head as you threw it back, your hair dangling in the air and eyes squeezing. You bucked your hips to meet his hand, his palm rubbing against your clit.
Jake titled his head at the sight, looking ever so gorgeous. He added a third digit inside of you, but it stretched you so good to the point of pain. You couldn’t help but whimper out loud.
Jake chuckled at your reaction and his tongue delved between your lips when you whined, muffling your sounds. "Shh, you're being too loud, baby." He bit your bottom lip.
You clenched around his digits, walls taking them in “T-too much.” You murmured.
He hummed lowly and slowed his pace slightly, bringing one arm to grip your waist again. "You can handle it, can't you, baby?" Hequestioned as his fingers began to curl against your sensitive spot to ease your discomfort.
At the feeling, so full and good, you rolled your eyes to the back of your head “T-there.” You moaned helplessly “Keep going.”
“Be quiet for me.” He demeaned and curled his fingers at a speed you weren’t even sure was possible.
You looked down at where your bodies collided and couldn’t help but let out a moan, your slickness was pooling down his wrist onto the floor, making a whole mess.
Jake followed your gaze and smirked at the sight, “You like this? Mh?”
You nodded “Yes, Jake.” Your eyes were half lidded as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten “Like it. So good.”
Jake titled your chin up to meet his dark eyes and raised a brow, your walls sucking his digits in “Are you close, baby?”
Like the expert of your body that he was, he knew all the signs to pick up. “Yes— I’m so—“ You couldn’t even finish your sentence, that one particular curl on the spongy wall made your body shake in release.
Jake’s arms wrapped around you, holding your body against his as you quaked, “Good girl." He mumbled in your ear, his fingers continuing their work until you came down from your high.
He pressed a soft kiss to your jawline, his fingers slowly pulling out of and he smirked as they came out slick with your release. "You were so good for me, darling." he mumbled against your ear.
He pulled his fingers to his mouth and sucked them, he hummed “Love the taste of you.”
Jake gently gave your arm a light squeeze before moving you to the side. You watched him through puzzled eyes until you saw him pushing on the floor all of his files.
“Baby?” You asked and he only replied with a smile. He pressed his lips against your neck, sucking and biting on the soft flesh while he moved his hands to the back of your thighs.
“Now..." He mumbled as his hands gripped your thighs, lifting you up.
You widened your eyes when you noticed how he placed you on the desk and rested your thighs on his shoulders, kneeling in front of you “There we go.”
“J-jake?” You asked, looking down at him. He winked at you “Just relax." He mumbled softly as his lips began to trail across your thighs.
Your body twitched at the feeling, his featherlight kisses sending waves of pleasure.
Jake trailed his lips up until they were close to your core, his breath fanning against your sensitive skin.
“Wait.” You tried to stop him by pressing one hand on his hair. “You haven’t been touched yet.”
He chuckled again, looking back up at you from his position in between your legs. "Don’t worry about me, love. This is about you." He whispered, blowing on your pussy.
You rolled your eyes back and Jake took the opportunity to swipe his tongue slowly on your core, tasting your juices and your previous cum.
“Oh, Lord.” You moaned out, grasping his hair into your hand, knuckles almost white.
He hummed as the taste of you hit his tongue, drawing a low groan from him.
Your breath grew heavy, slowly guiding his head to lick in the spots you were the most sensitive.
“You taste wonderful, love.” He whispered, sucking on your clit.
You unconsciously bucked your hips, not in control of your body anymore as it succumbed to the pleasure.
Jake chuckled and pressed a hand on your hip, pinning it down to keep you from moving while his tongue continued circles against your sensitive spot. "Stay still for me, darling." He mumbled, continuing his movements.
You arched your back and grasped his hair and he could tell that you were already close to the edge.
So, he took the opportunity to slide his tongue in your entrance, making you moan out as the warm and spongy feeling made your whole mind black out.
His eyes never left your expression as he watched you closely. He was enjoying making you squirm, moaning out his name.
And just like thunder crashing, your body shuddered while you squirted right on Jake’s face.
You widened your eyes, unable to stop the overwhelming feeling of pleasure as you basically screamed-moaned. At that point, you were sure even people on the streets knew what you two were up to.
However, Jake seemed very content with it. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his suit. “Pussy so good, makes my day better.” Your liquid was dripping down his glasses and jaw.
“I made a mess.” You whispered, propping yourself up on your elbows “And?” Jake raised a brow, pulling your chin in a kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue “I love your messes.”
“I want to help you.” You stated, palming his angry hard-on “You already made me cum twice.”
“We don’t have protections.” He murmured, kissing your lips once, then twice “I don’t want inconveniences to happen.”
The thought of him breeding you made your mind fill with primal urges, but you tried to negotiate “You can pull out.”
Jake shook his head, resting it on your shoulder “I don’t have self control when it comes to you.” He kissed your clothed shoulder.
“A blow?” You questioned, caressing the little hair he had behind his head. Jake chuckled again, “I’m too rough and I don’t want to ruin your cute attire.”
His gaze travelled down to your hand that helped you hold yourself up and smiled “You put nail polish on? It suits you.”
How he managed to make your heart flutter after literally having you shake, you weren’t sure. Maybe he had a talent.
“I wanted to be pretty for you.” You chuckled, “Can’t ruin your reputation.”
No matter how much Jake tried to talk you out of sex in his office, the way he was slowly rutting his hips on your inner thigh gave him away.
He occasionally let out small hums in between his words, and you knew damn well he must be feeling so pained.
So, you slowly climbed down the desk and looked at him. He showed you a nice smile, oblivious to the contorted plants you had in mind. His lips dropped into a frown at the same moment your skirt dropped to your ankles.
“Y/N?” He asked, raising a brow as you began to unbutton your blouse, showing your silk bra.
If Jake had one weakness apart from eating you out, then it was your boobs. He loved them, worshipped them day and night.
His eyes darkened at such sight, walking towards you right away and pushing you against the wall.
“You drive me insane.” He whispered, unzipping his pants and letting them drop to the floor “You fuck my head.”
You watched him with excitement bubbling your stomach, he gripped your bare thigh and raised your leg until it was around his waist.
You looked down at his hard cock, pressing against your stomach “Watch me stretch this pussy out.” He said as he aligned himself with your entrance and thrusted inside of you.
You were so wet and sensitive, your skin burning against his. Jake gripped your ass so tight it would surely leave a mark by the next day, he rutted his hips inside of you at a fast speed.
“I don’t think I’ll last long.” He warned, “I feel you much better without a condom.”
You clenched around his length as his admission, making him groan. He pulled you into a heated kiss as he kept moving his hips, desperately chasing the relief he longed for.
“Fuck.” He breathed out, grip on your skin painful “Fuck, you were made for me.”
With one skilled hand, he undid your bra and palmed your breasts, his tip hitting your cervix, making you moan.
Jake lowered his head onto your chest and began sucking on your nipple, circling his tongue around it “Ah, Yes!” You chanted out.
Without missing a beat, Jake changed tit and did the same thing to the other.
“So deep.” You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as the familiar feeling of euphoria reached you for the third time “So good.”
“Yes baby,” He grunted, one hand sneaking up to wrap around your neck “You’re so good for me, so good.”
The sudden loss of air made you clench around him, your walls hugging his cock, sucking him in.
“Fuck— Stop clenching like that.” He huffed, squeezing his eyes just like you did “I’m already so close.”
“I don’t want you to pull out.” You placed one hand on his cheeks, brown eyes boring into yours “What?”
“I want you to cum inside of me.” A rather deep thrust “Your babies, I want them, I don’t care.”
“Oh goodness.” Jake grunted, his hips moving almost manically “You’ll be the death of me.”
You pulled him into a kiss which wasn’t exactly one, you two were just moaning and breathing into each other’s mouths.
“Are you sure, love?” He asked, drops of sweat coating his forehead, his bangs sticking to it “We can’t undo this.”
“I’m so sure.” You moaned out “Cum inside of me.”
At those words, Jake shot his load deep inside of you, filling you up with his warm seed.
You whimpered, grasping his forearm when the orgasm hit you as well, making you clench around him.
He held you against the wall, both of you trying to catch your breaths.
You smiled and removed one bang from his eye, caressing his cheek with your thumb “This was the craziest shit I’ve ever done.”
You slowly rocked your hips, needing to feel him more, needing his cum to stay inside of you.
Jake groaned and rested his forehead on yours “Damn baby, if this is how it’ll end up every time you visit, I hope you do it more often.”
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gojotojis · 4 months
Text
When the Party’s Over pt.3
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Part 1 Part 2
summary: you and sukuna are now dating, only you’re keeping it a secret but secrets eventually come out.
pairing: college! sukuna x college! fem reader
content MDNI: slight angst ?, bestfriends brother, frenemies, secret romance, soft sukuna, squirting,oral (m receiving) , unprotected sex, vaginal sex, riding, cum eating, fingering, fluff, aftercare, dacryphillia, oral choking, praise kink, overstimulation
This ended up being so fluffy, pls don’t beat me up. Soft sukuna just has me in a chokehold! Also this is my favorite smut I’ve written thus far!
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Choso insisted on you coming over for a John Wick marathon, of course Yuki was there, which you didn’t mind. Yuki’s actually really nice to you and her music taste is so similar to yours, you’re constantly making eachother playlists and sending eachother songs you think the other would like. You’ve never had a girl friend so it’s nice.
You sit on the couch next to Yuji whose eyes widen everytime John fires his gun, while Choso and Yuki sit cuddled up on the other side of the sofa.
You have to admit, Johns incredibly sexy. You’d happily sit through four movies soley about him but your eyes keep drifting towards the stairs.
All you want to do is crawl into Sukunas bed and sleep but you can’t. You’re scared for Choso to find out, scared that it’ll ruin your friendship. Sukuna doesn’t care, he doubts Choso will give a shit and maybe he’s right but you’re not ready.
You and Sukuna have only been dating for three months now and you love being in your own little bubble with him. You also love the thrill you get from sneaking around, the way he sneaks you into his house after hours just so you can fall asleep on him.
You’re not sure the separation anxiety you feel is healthy, he’s the only thing on your mind, the first thing you think about when you wake up and the last thing you think about when you go to sleep. He’s your first boyfriend, your first everything and you hope he’s your last.
It feels so good to be utterly obsessed with someone and them to reciprocate it. It’s also a rush knowing your boyfriend hates everyone but you, that he’s mean in public but when he’s alone with you, he’s on his knees telling you how much he loves you.
You feel like you’re going insane, you need to feel his skin against yours. You’re never not clinging to him like a monkey, making him carry you everywhere. You’re just so obsessed with him, it makes you want to rip your hair out, definitely not healthy but you don’t give a shit.
You anxiously start eating the popcorn Yujis holding, fighting the urge to run up stairs and tackle Sukuna. This is different, so different, whatever you felt for Choso doesn’t come even a fraction close to how you feel about Sukuna.
“I’m so tired,” you fake yawn, stretching your arms up and Yuji scoffs.
“It’s only been an hour,” he says and you yawn again for emphasis.
“I had such a long day, I’m sorry guys,” you say innocently and Choso shakes his head. “Just go to sleep in one of the guest rooms, I can take you home in the morning,” he says and you nod standing up.
Yuji looks at you suspiciously but all you do is offer an apologetic smile before you’re climbing up the stairs. Your fingers wrap the handle to Sukunas door and open it. He’s sitting at his desk, engrossed in a game of call of duty while he curses out someone on his headset.
You lock the door and peel your clothes off till you’re naked. You pull your hair from its ponytail and let it fall to your hips before you walk toward him. He looks to you and then back to the screen before looking at you again with wide eyes and you giggle.
“I gotta go,” he says over the headset.
“We’re about to fucking win!” you hear someone yell at him as you turn the chair to face you. You climb onto his lap and reach for his hand as his teammates scream at him through the headset.
He watches you take his hand and press his fingers against your pussy, covering them in your arousal before you lift them to your mouth and lick them. He throws his head back and closes his eyes.
“I really gotta fucking go,” he says before closing the game, and the shouting stops. He quickly removes his headset and sets downs his controller.
“Hi,” you smile innocently.
“Hi baby,” he breathes before his lips find yours. Your lips brush and tongues lap against eachother. His hands slide over the curve of your waists and up to your tits. His large hands splay across them and he squeezes them hard.
“Does my good girl need some attention?” He asks, his tongue licking the sides of your breasts and you nod.
“How bad?” He asks, rolling a nipple between his fingers as you grind down against his bulge.
“Really bad,” you say creating a bouncing rhythm. He can feel the wet patch you’re making on his crotch. Your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt and he lifts his arms up, letting you take it off.
You’ll never get tired of his body, the ridges, the muscles and the defined v at his hips. Your nails graze his abs before they start tracing over the tattoos on his arms. His body is hot to the touch, and he shivers under your cold fingers.
“You gonna ride me?” He asks. You’re a pillow princess, you love just laying down and taking it while he does most of the work but you’ve never done that before, yet it sounds dirty and you like it.
“Yes,” you say confidently. You’ve only ever done missionary, he knows it’s your favorite, it’s just so intimate, being able to see his expressions and watch where your bodies connect as he fucks into you.
He knows he’s gonna be helping you by the end of this but he pats your ass and you sit up, letting him slide his pants off and his cock springs free. Your mouth waters at the sight and you slide down to your knees.
Your hand wraps around it and he hisses. You watch the way his abs contract when you spit repeatedly on it till it’s nice and sloppy, just how he likes it. You press several kisses to the tip letting precum smear against you lips, teasing him before you lick up the sides.
He groans as you feel the veins against your tongue. He stands up so he can get a better look at you when he slowly inches his cock into your mouth. Your mouth widens as you breathe through your nose like he taught you, tears gather in your eyes, looking up at him until his dick is pressed against the back of your throat.
“Gonna fuck the shit out of this mouth,” he groans and your pussy throbs. His fingers thread through your hair and slowly pulls out of your mouth before plunging back in. His dick is so fucking warm in your mouth, he groans when you lick the underside. He starts thrusting into your mouth, not breaking eye contact as he watches you cry and it turns him on so fucking bad watching the tears flow down your cheeks.
You’re gagging on his dick, your hands gripping his thighs praying nobody can hear you choking.
“So good for me baby,” he grunts, forcing more down your throat and your eyes widen but you try to relax. He’s buried in your throat, your nose touching his pelvis. He thrusts in out, beating the back of your throat, saliva smearing all over your face and dripping onto your chest.
Your fingers find your pussy and you force your middle and index finger inside of you, desperate for a release as you bounce on your fingers. Your mouth cries against his cock, and it’s enough that he’s pulling out. He watches you fingering yourself and loses it, cum hits your face in thick ropes and then your chest, you fingers leave your cunt and you swipe the cum off your lips, sucking them off before you stand up and push Sukuna back down into the chair.
He watches you glide your fingers over your nipples, scooping up cum before you swallow it. You’re a fucking freak, not even close to what he dreamed of, but better.
You straddle him as he leans back, letting you take control. You grip his cock and line it up at your sopping hole. Your eyes close as you slowly sink down onto it, the stretch one of your favorite parts.
Little tremors hit you as your pussy swallows him until your ass is flush against his thighs. He’s so fucking deep, you think you might cum if you move. His full attention is on you, hands gripping the arms of the chair.
You pull up, feeling his cock slowly leave you before you bounce back down. You moan as quietly as you can as you bounce up and down his cock. This feels so good but it’s so much work, work you’re not use to and you look at him with those big doe eyes. He was waiting for this.
“Help me,” you whisper and his hands slide to your ass, lifting you up and slamming you down on him, hard.
Your teeth sink into his shoulder as he slams you up and down his cock over and over, sweat starts to coat your body and your tits bounce with each thrust. You hear gunshots downstairs from the tv, praying they don’t hear Sukuna drilling into you.
“The sweetest fucking pussy,” he grunts as you grind against him, you feel your stomach knot and your pussy clamps as he batters your cervix. You start to shake against him and liquid gushes from your cunt but he doesn’t stop, he never does.
He fucks into you like he wants to touch the tip of your skull, your head lulls to the side, tongue sticking out as you gasp for air feeling your boyfriend demolish your cunt until you’re squirting again and dripping down his thighs.
“Too much ngghh, too much Kuna,” you cry when his thumb rubs at your clit and your eyes roll back. His mouth finds yours and he swallows your screams as you cum together, feeling him flood you with his seed.
You slump against him as he carries you to his bathroom. He turns the shower on and steps inside with you still wrapped around him. You whine when he lifts you off of him and sets you on your feet, your knees are wobbly as he reaches for your pink loofah and lathers his body wash onto it.
He begins scrubbing your body while you turn your face so the water hits it, washing away his cum. You reach for your face wash you left and start massaging it into your face as he gets on his knees.
You shiver as he gently washes your sore and abused pussy. He press’s kisses against your belly as you grab his rag and pour body wash on it. He stands up and you start scrubbing him, at least the places you can reach till he has to take over.
Once you’re done and he’s dressed you in his clothes, you climb on top of him in bed, resting your head on his chest.
“My little spider monkey,” he calls you, the way you cling to him. You look up and smile before kissing his jaw as he scrolls through Netflix.
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You all but squeal at the smell of fried food, the flickering multicolored lights and the sound of screaming. You fucking love the fair.
Sukuna fucking hates it, he hates the screaming and the guaranteed vomiting. He still hasn’t forgiven you for throwing up on him in the Gravitron once the ride ended when you were twelve and him fourteen.
In your defense you housed about six funnel cakes, a super size coke slushee and eight fried Oreos that day before you got on the ride. You learned your lesson that day.
Even though he hates it, it’s the smile on your face that makes it worth it as you lace your fingers together and walk around.
You immediately guide him toward the flying swings, the tendant scans your wristbands and you take the seat infront of Sukuna as more people get on.
Sukuna waits for what he knows is coming, he listens to you burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. You laugh manically when you ride rollercoasters and etc, people look at you like you’re deranged while you laugh like the Joker.
It’s fucking hilarious as you look back at him. He can’t help but laugh at the way his girlfriend sounds like a fucking maniac. Even when the rides over you’re clutching your sides laughing. It’s the adrenaline no doubt.
You spend the night riding almost every ride, nearly breaking your neck on the bumper cars when some kid drove straight into you until you were slammed into the wall. Sukuna threatened to kick his “little ass” out the car and he broke down crying which ended in you both banned from the bumper cars.
“He was a pussy,” Sukuna huffs as you lick at your Icecream cone.
“Baby, he couldn’t have been older than eight,” you say and he shrugs leaning down to lick your Icecream. He watches you take a bite with your front teeth and stops walking.
“Only psychos eat Icecream like that,” he says making you laugh.
“Congrats, you’re dating a psycho,” you say taking another bite until your eyes land on something.
Sukuna clutches his ears as you threaten to burst his eardrum with your screaming.
“Fuck!” He says loudly with his finger in his ear. You ignore it as you finish your icecream and tug him toward the booth full of Sanrio plushies. “I want them all,” you say to the worker and she hands you a basketball.
You look down at it with a frown as she points to the hoops behind her. Sukuna hands her money as you toss the ball, watching it bounce off the rim.
You have two more shots and she hands you a ball, you throw it and miss. Sukuna can tell you’re getting frustrated with the way your hands form into fists.
He walks who behind you as you take the last basketball. He presses his hand flat against your stomach and the other one stretches out behind your hand that holds the basketball.
He pulls your joined hands back and lifts you up with one hand so you can throw it and it makes it through the hoop.
“I did it! I did it!” You jump up and down, technically you both did but he doesn’t care to correct you.
“That’s cheating,” the worker says arms crossed.
“Give her the fucking toy,” Sukuna says making the girl get up and walk to the wall of plushies.
“Which one baby?” He asks and you point to a giant My Melody one dressed up as a watermelon, she hands it to you. The things nearly the size of you as you hug it, you beam up at him as he holds your hand.
He brings your joined hands up to his lips and kisses the back of your hand as you walk around. There’s two rides you haven’t gone on yet, the Ferris wheel and the Gravitron.
Sukuna absolutely refuses when you walk him toward the Gravitron. You actually feel bad that you gave him childhood trauma because he plants his feet to the ground and doesn’t budge no matter how hard you pull.
“Please Kuna, we can stand on opposite ends of the ride. I promise I won’t throw up on you,” you beg but he doesn’t budge. You sigh and look down at the ground, like a kicked and dejected puppy.
“You’re fucking annoying” he sighs, pressing a kiss to your temple and grabbing your hand. You smile, leaving your plushie with the machine operator as you both step inside. You giggle as he leans against the wall two mats over.
Everyone gets in and the ride starts, you feel the pressure of the zero gravity at work as your body’s stuck against the wall. The machine ride spins, Sukunas watching you and the expression your face makes. You’re not laughing, not even close.
You feel sick, absolutely sick and dizzy. Your eyes squeeze shut until the ride ends and you’re running out. You lean over the railing, prepared to vomit as you take several deep breaths. Sukuna rubs your back and holds your hair but luckily nothing comes up.
“You’re never going on that ride again,” he says and you nod, you can’t help but laugh once the queasiness leaves you. “You should’ve seen your face, you thought I was going to throw up on you,” you say, pretending to puke on him and he glares, carrying your plushie.
“You’d be walking home if you did,” he says and you roll your eyes knowing damn well he would never let that happen.
You stop him and stand on your tippie toes, pulling him down for a kiss. You smile against his lips, you’ll never get tired of this.
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You rest against his chest as you both stare at the tv.
“So he calls her baby girl and she calls him chocolate thunder but they’re strictly platonic?” He asks and you nod laughing as you watch criminal minds.
“You’re into some freaky shit,” he says making you sit up so you’re straddling him. You push your ass against his dick and smile.
“Very,” you say before you lift your shirt up, revealing your bare chests. He sits up and starts kissing you, oblivious to the feet running up the stairs until his doors being slammed open. You scream and climb off of him, clutching your chest.
Your face reddens, the urge to cover it but your hands are hiding your tits. He moves to block your body and hands you back his shirt. Yuji and Choso’s faces are burned into your brain as you slip the shirt on. You don’t lean over Sukuna, terrified.
“What the fuck!” You hear Choso say and you slightly peak over Sukunas shoulder.
Choso storms out of the room and you jump out of the bed.
“Choso wait!” You say as he jogs down the stairs and out the front door.
You walk back to the room to see Yuji sitting next to Sukuna giving him a fist bump.
“No way you bagged y/n, She’s pretty bad,” Yuji says and you slap the back of both their heads.
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You sigh pushing your food around. It’s been a week and Choso doesn’t answer your texts, he doesn’t sit with you at lunch and he switched seats in the classes you share so now you’re forced to sit next to Mahito who you hate.
“Has he said anything to you?” You ask Sukuna as he steals one of your fries.
“Nah, he’s been staying over at Yuki’s. Who cares anyways” he says eating another fry until you’re pushing your tray towards him.
“I do and you should too, he’s your brother,” you say and he sighs.
“So what do you want me to do, I can beat him until he talks to you,” he offers genuinely, you try not to laugh at his violent and insane behavior.
“No, but I told you this would happen,” you say and he shrugs, holding a fry up to your lips until you eat it.
“Good girl,” he says as Yuki sits infront if you making you sit up. You’re prepared for her to yell at you but she doesn’t.
“I know Choso’s being stubborn, he told me everything. It’s really not his business on what you two do with eachother which I expressed so now he’s not talking to me,” she says taking a fry.
“He’s being a fucking diva,” Sukuna says making you laugh at him using such a word. “Break up with him and see how fast he comes running,” Sukuna concludes. The idea sounds absurd but Yuki’s pulling her phone out and tapping away at the screen.
“Oh you guys are cruel,” you say and she hits send.
“So what exactly is this?” She asks, pointing between you two.
“We’re dating, three months now,” you smile, being able to say it so openly feels nice.
“Oh that’s pathetic,” Sukuna says as Choso enters the cafeteria and walks towards your table. He holds his phone up at Yuki.
“Are you serious?”.
“What use is a boyfriend that won’t speak to you?” She asks and you take notes. She’s so nonchalant about it, serves him right.
“Fine, you want to talk let’s talk,” Choso says taking the seat between you and Yuki.
“You’re fucking a guy that told you the only jobs you’d get were either on a pole or your back and you’re fucking a girl that prayed to God for three weeks that you would catch Syphilis,” he says, Yuki covers her mouth to conceal a laugh.
“Well, she only does one of those jobs and I’m syphilis free,” Sukuna says and you pinch his ass through the opening in his chair making him squirm.
“He fucking hates you and you just…spread your legs for him?” Choso asks making your breathing hitch.
“Shut the fuck up, and choose your nexts word wisely,” Sukuna warns.
“That’s not what I meant. I just don’t get it, you’ve been lying and fucking my brother. It’s weird, and what’s suppose to happen when it’s over?” He asks.
“Nothing, because it never will be,” Sukuna answers, seemingly bored of this conversation.
“Choso, you’re my bestfriend and you always will be but what I do and who I do it with is my choice. I’m not sorry that it’s Sukuna or that I love him. But I am sorry that you feel the need to be mean and avoid me. When you got with Yuki, I accepted it. It’s caused us to make adjustments to our friendship that I’ve happily complied with, there’s no reason you can’t do the same,” you say with a level head and he nods.
“I just don’t want you getting hurt,” he sighs and you smile.
“I promise you, your brother takes good care of me,” you assure.
“In every aspect,” Sukuna adds making Choso cringe and Yuki laugh.
“This conversations boring me, come home and stop being a bitch” Sukuna says.
“Fine but no more sex jokes, and please lock your fucking door” Choso says.
“Fine, now beat it. I need a word with my girlfriend “ Sukuna says making Yuki and Choso dip. He pulls your chair toward him and leans in till your forehead is pressed against his.
“You love me?” He asks and you nod.
“I love you more than I ever hated you, so much fucking more,”.
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I know some of you wanted Choso’s reaction, I rewrote it so many times but I honestly don’t think he cares that much. He has no romantic feelings for her. But I do think the idea of her and his brother who is an absolute ass would seem quite disturbing.
Also she’s not pregnant! Thank y’all for the endless support on this. Gojo Tinder piece coming up next!
@whosmarjj @getoxmahito @xra1 @swoozleee @lillycore
@carefree-flowerchild
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minhosimthings · 4 months
Text
Lucifer|| Prolouge
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Synopsis: After you found your husband cheating on you, you found a different kind of comfort in his devilishly handsome colleagues.
Pairings: detective 02z × fem!reader
Warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive, minors please do not interact, catcalling, mention of alcohol, reader is cheated on by Heeseung, cheating (which I do not condone in real life)
A/N: Prologue for my 02z short series everyone! I abandoned everything else after Enha dropped Memorabilia just to write this BECAUSE I CAN. I will try to put out the oneshots as early as possible and I hope all of you will enjoy it! Au revoir!
Taglist: Open
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Crystalline tears filled your eyes as you walked under the dark azure sky. Your feet ached, your heart thumped hard against its prison and your mind spun and yet you kept walking. Walking somewhere, you didn't even bother to understand.
Adjusting your skirt, and moving your scarf down to reveal your bloodied lips from having bitten them too much, you tried to recall what had happened today that made you so miserable. Was it the broken coffee machine, or was it the recent murders in the newspaper? Or was it a person? Perhaps it was the latter.
Heeseung.
You loved Lee Heeseung. With all of your soul and all of your heart you loved him all the way through the bright Mays and the chilly Decembers. You loved him in a way only the setting sun could love the ocean, the way its rays danced with the water so gracefully.
And yet you caught him in your own bedroom, strong sinews of muscles handling another girl's lusty bones, as she merged her body with someone you thought belonged to you.
His apologies went deaf to your ears, you spent an hour or so packing up all your things and driving out the house without a second thought. You didn't even realise how much time you spent screaming your head off at him, trying hard to stop your tears from escaping their barrier as you shoved each and every gift he ever gave you into his arms and asked him to burn them to the ground. And yet you didn't know how to cope without them either.
Your mother never taught you how to handle grief without alcohol and your father's blood always seeped through your mouth in words of fire and fury everytime something went wrong. It was no wonder you had found comfort in Heeseung, a man who could handle all of your pain and all of your anger.
You had trusted him with your life, marrying him happily to escape your childhood home and entrusting in him your most beloved secrets, your love and dedication and your virginity as well. You thought that had been enough, staying home whilst Heeseung worked his ass off at the police station to provide you with everything you could ask for and more.
And when he came home, you were his toy, a plaything for him to release his stress on and yet you didn't budge. Why should you? When you were recieving all the pleasure you could ever want and giving all the pleasure back to your husband. Nevertheless, you stared at your empty ring finger now, hands shivering in the cold as you scolded yourself on not wearing mittens. Heeseung used to scold you too.
Lee Heeseung. What would you have done to absolutely irradicate Lee Heeseung?
You had parked your car at the nearby park where you knew it'd be safe, and had gone for a walk. Thoughts rushed to your mind. You had known about Heeseung's affair for some time now, but you wanted to catch him in the act, to prove to the world, to yourself, that your melancholic delusion could be justified. Here you were now, dragging your feet across the cemented pavement, knowing there's only one other place you could go to. The darkness was a bad place for a woman to be, at 10 pm but you didn't give a single fuck about anything as your prosaic body tried to get itself up. You swore you could have heard voices behind you.
"Hey, hey you!" You heard a voice shout behind you, "What's a pretty lady doin' in a place like this?"
You gulped in fear as your feet sped up. Stupid stupid girl, you thought to yourself, should have stayed in the goddamned car!
"Hey you ignorin' me?" The voice shouted again, and you could hear the gruff footsteps which followed you, getting closer by the moment, "Stop fucking runnin' away from me!"
Your heart pumped blood faster as you picked up your skirt and ran, at the fastest speed you could. This wouldn't have happened if Heeseung was here!, you thought, and though a part of your brain tried to scold you about still thinking about him, at the moment all you were focused on was getting somewhere safe.
The man's drunken voice could still be hear by your ears, and his harsh footsteps told you he was running behind you, chasing you as if you were a wild mongrel to be caught and leashed.
Only one place. Only one place you could go now.
Turning swift on your feet, you ran down the wide lane filled with shops on one side and the empty road on the other, being careful not to crash into the glowing streetlights, as your destination came into your visage.
The police station. Where you knew, your last hope would be standing.
|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|
"Got the Samson case solved yet?" Sunghoon yawned and stretched his limbs above his head, like a prosaic cat, "Man I could do with a drink right now."
"It's 10 pm." Jake checked his pocketwatch, running his hand through his hair as he always did, "What bar is going to be open at this time?"
"Hey, should we steal Jay's stash?" Sunghoon glanced, with mischievous eyes at Jake, who mirrored an equally mischief filled smile back.
"Don't even think about touching my bourbon." A dark haired man, with eyes as black as kohl, walked in, equally black gloves decorating his hands, "Unless you want to be stuck on traffic duty all week."
"Who pissed in your cereal today?" Sunghoon snickered, leaning back in his chair, a crack of his bone could be heard as he lazily stretched, "Let me guess, Heeseung?"
"Is it about his wife again?" Jake groaned, hair tangled in his hand again, "Jay, just leave it man, they'll sort it out."
"Sort it out?" Jay looked at the long haired man with a quizzical look, "What kind of a man cheats on a beautiful woman and brags about it?"
"Most of them." Sunghoon broke out into his drawer, hands reaching for a eloquent wooden pipe, which he lit and transferred to his mouth, sighing out the smoke as he relaxed into his chair, "You're too righteous to understand that, Jongsoeng."
Jay wrinkled his nose, as Sunghoon blew a puff of cigarette smoke into the air. Settling into his own chair, Jay's eyes flickered towards Heeseung's desk, where files lay messily scattered. A solitary photo frame brightened up the lonely atmosphere of the desk. Lee Y/N, Jay thought, his wife, not yours.
"Jay, come on, stop sulking over your little crush," Jake scoffed, his hands busy with a sleek, brownish-yellow bottle in his hand, "Just have a drink and get your mind off it."
"First of all, how did you get into my bourbon cabinet." Jay snatched the glass from Jake's hand, and toyed with it protectively, "Second of all, I can't just get my mind of it. I mean, come on," He extended his glass out to Jake who poured the elysian liquid into Jay's glass, "Who the fuck would have the gall to cheat on such a pretty woman who loves him to bits?"
"Look, you like her right? And don't say no, we all know it Jongsoeng." Sunghoon leaned forward in his chair, "So when she finds out about everything, just offer to take her home and, you know, let her sob into your arms and then take her into your bedroom and-"
"Since when did you start reading romance?" Jake chuckled, pressing a glass of bourbon to his lips.
"Since lover boy here started crushing on..what's her name? Y/N wasn't it?" Sunghoon laughed, taking another piquant drag of his pipe, "I get it, she is really pretty."
'Really pretty' was one way to describe you, Jay thought, smiling into his glass of bourbon. Every inch of you called out to him, beckoned him closer and closer to your poisonous radius. It wasn't that he didn't try to fight it, lusting after another's wife, but it was that he found that hidden sadness in your eyes heartbreaking everytime he looked into them.
"Want to head home, fellas?" Jake briskly sat up straight in his chair, "Or are either of you going to stop at a brothel?"
"Don't have time for that." Sunghoon chuckled darkly, putting out his pipe, "Plus I've got a-"
Bang!
The door of the quite airy police station burst open with a loud bang, and it seemed as if a hurricane in the guise of a panicked woman had swept in, alarming the three detectives. The sudden action caused them to act on their reflexes, pulling out their revolvers faster than their eyes could comprehend the sight in fron them. Jake's eyes seemed to work the quickest.
"Ma'am? Are you alright?" Jake called out, signalling the other two to lower their weapons. He stepped forward and turned a switch on, which caused the entire room to light up in bright light, contrasting to the soft yellow light that earlier shone from the desk lamps.
Jay's senses had seemed to ding up after the initial shock of the entire thing, as he walked forward with careful steps towards you, as Jake and Sunghoon whispered to each other, making out why you were here. Your eyes took a moment to register the man in front of you.
Jay Park, you thought, a man who was perfection incarnated.
"Y/N," Jay spoke softly, careful not to frighten you, "What are you doing here? Are you alright?" He looked you up and down to check for any disfigurements.
"I-" you spoke, your throat tightening by the moment, "Heeseung—he" you couldn't speak any more as his name uttered out your mouth. Bursting into tears, you buried your face in your hands as you felt your cheeks burn up with embarrassment. You really weren't crying in front of your (ex) husband's colleagues, men who you barely knew, apart from the usual condolences.
You felt warm, strong muscles pull you into their hold. It felt like a cozy cocoon, scented with the fragrance of pine and paper.
"Calm down, doll," Jay whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning your neck, "take a breath for me."
Jay coached you through breathing in and out, which restored some of your consciousness. You had nearly been on the verge of fainting, with how much you had ran.
"Can I—May I sit down for a moment?" You asked, weary of the other two men's eyes watching you, "Please."
"Of course." Jay said, supporting your figure with his sinews as he led you over to his cubicle. You could see the other two hastily clearing out messy piles of papers. The shorter one, you assumed was Jake, from his drooped posture and lion-like hair. The taller one then, had to be Sunghoon, with porcelain skin and an ice cold gaze.
"Did-did you walk all the way from your house?" Jake questioned, offering you a seat, which you gratefully collapsed into.
"No, just the park nearby." You shot him a small smile through your croaky voice, which he returned, "My car's still parked there though. I drove from" you stopped in your words uncertain to say his name, "-from Heeseung's house."
You felt the tension in the room as you said those words. Heeseung's house, you thought, it had been home once. You felt Jay shift his position in the chair next to you, and Sunghoon transfer his weight to one foot, whilst leaning on the desk.
"If you want us to go beat him up, we'll gladly do it." Sunghoon offered, making you chuckle and shake your head.
"No it's fine, I mean she wasn't that pretty anyway, he's bound to lose interest in her some day or the other." You smiled, to no one but yourself. Humour had never been your strong suit.
"Aww man I really wanted to beat him up." Sunghoon feigned defeat, "Asshole deserves it for how much paperwork he gave me."
"That's the only reason you want to beat him up?" You raised a brow at the light skinned man, who raised one back.
"And for betraying a pretty lady of course." He winked at you, making you internally roll your eyes.
"Would-would you like some bourbon?" Jake awkwardly offered you a glass. You could see the embarrassment in his eyes the moment he asked the question, "Or water if you want-"
"I'll take the bourbon." You grabbed the glass from Jake, who, with his shocked eyes poured you a glass, which you downed immediately without flinching in front of the three startled detectives, "Can I have another?"
"Can we have some too?" Sunghoon smirked at you, grabbing his own glass and beckoning Jake to pour him a shot. Jay, admitting defeat, had grabbed a glass too, filled with the bubbly alcohol.
"Well," Sunghoon raised his glass in a toast, "to Heeseung hopefully getting bored of the other woman."
"Peculiar toast, Detective Park." You laughed, "I like it."
The moments that followed still felt like a fever dream to you. You had sat in a building, alone with three handsome men, talking down right shit about your husband, whilst drinking more bourbon than you ever had and although you had already defeated Jake in drinking (almost) half a pint, you still wanted more. This definetly was not on your itinerary for the evening, but did you care at this point? Absolutely not.
"Ugh fuck." You swore under your breath. You probably shouldn't have drank that much, but in all honestly, it would have helped to relieve some of the painful memories of the night.
"Woah steady there." Jay looked at you cautiously as you stirred in your chair. Jake was on the verge of passing out, having even taking his glasses off, while Sunghoon and Jay, who hadn't drank as much, looked as calm as the winds.
"You know what?" You started, not knowing the words coming out of your drunken mouth anymore, "Fuck Lee Heeseung, fuck that man." A sudden maniacal giggle from your mouth seemed to have amused Sunghoon.
"Fuck in what terms, Mrs Lee?" He asked, trying to hide his cunning smirk, whilst ignoring Jay's warning glares.
"Mrs Lee?" You questioned, feeling your senses come back, though you were still tipsy, "Who's Mrs Lee? Not me, no sir-ee." You laughed, "If I had the chance to chop off that asshole's dick right now, I would."
"But you wouldn't allow us to beat him up? Strange." Sunghoon whistled out in his usual cocky tone.
"It's getting late." Jay checked the grand clock in the corner of the room, his eyes wavered over the dried tears on your face, it was alarming to him how much a mere glass of bourbon had managed to get you giggling like a cuckoo, "Y/N I can drop you-"
"I'd rather fuck all of you in one night rather than see that idiot's face again." You chuckled again, this time, saying the sentence with full seriousness. Did you really mean it?, perhaps not, as you would have thought later on. But were you up for having sex with three extremely attractive men who happened to be the best friends of your ex-husband? That, was a definite yes.
"Oh really?" Sunghoon placed his forearms on the desk in front of him, leaning in closer to your face. Jay's hand clutched harder against the edge of the desk. "And what if I say yes to that proposal?"
"What are you implying, Detective Park?" You looked into his dark, devilish eyes, "That you'd have sex with someone pathetic enough to get cheated on?"
"Don't say that, you're not pathetic." Jay's eyes softened as he looked at you, but you merely scoffed, turning your face instead to look at Sunghoon, who was evidently smirking. You caught Jake's widened eyes from the corner of your eye, listening intently.
"How about this-" Sunghoon started, folding his arms, "You get a night of good sex, I get a night of good sex, you and I both get to rub that in Heeseung's face, and then we have breakfast in France."
"Are you married Detective Park?" You quizzed him with an amused face, his offer seemed at the very least, interesting to you.
"Not yet, no. I'm still young aren't I?", Sunghoon's mouth stretched like a cat's into a lazy smile, "Why do you ask? Are you....perhaps intrigued by my offer?"
There was something ironic about that sentence "I'm still young" that struck a chord within you, you were the same age as him and yet you were sitting there talking about your husband.
"Intrigued is one way to put it." You smiled back, hoping you looked anything like a vixen, matching the bastardous fox like energy of Sunghoon's, "But don't you think it's greedy of you, Detective Park? To want me all to yourself?"
"And what do you mean by that, Miss Y/N?" Jake smiled in his boyish manner, "Is Sunghoon here not enough for you?"
"I'm just saying." You held up your hands in mock defence, "wouldn't you both like to get a taste too?"
You glanced at Jay in the corner, who you had expected to be shaking his head in disapproval. But to your utter surprise, he had one of his gloves hands stroking his chin as if in deep thought. His eyes were dark even in the fluorescent light of the room, deep pools of cataclysmic waters floating around in his pupils. He looked vaguely interested.
"So just to recap," Jake started, clearing his throat, such that his Adam's apple was clearly visible, "You want us to bed you, so as to make your ex husband, our colleague and friend, someone's whose wife we definetly should not be sleeping with, jealous?"
"That's the blueprint." You said in a sweet honeyed voice, "How exactly you make him know that I'm not his anymore, you figure that out. If I even so as look at that man's face again, I will jump off a cliff."
"But the question is-" you put on a proud smile, eyes darting from one man to the next, "Who's going first?"
"Shouldn't you decide that sweetheart?" Jay's deep voice came like a rumble through the ground during an earthquake, slightly startling you. He hadn't said anything in the past few minutes, his sudden break of silence alarmed you.
"Alright then." You chuckled, not daring to meet Jay's eyes, you knew you'd melt as soon as you saw them, "How about the person who suggested this?" You turned your face towards a smirking Sunghoon, with his head held high like a peacock's, "Detective Park?"
"Shall I go with the lady's word boys?" Sunghoon asked Jake, who nodded his head, taking his glasses off the desk and outting them on again. The effect it had in him was quite handsome, according to you.
"Should we make a pact then?" Jake asked cheekily, glancing around for a piece of paper, finally picking one up from underneath the mountain of files lying on the wisened wood. Putting it down on the paper, he scribbled something down quickly, showing it off proudly to the others. You let out a laugh when you saw what he wrote.
"'The make Heeseung jealous organisation'?" You laughed, "I can't tell if you're serious or not."
"I'm dead serious." Jake looked at you with glossy eyes, he always was a funny one, you recalled, "Come on everyone, I need signatures."
He's serious about this, you thought, amused at Jake's comedic demeanor. You swiftly pressed the black ink to the paper, leaving off a flashy signature to decorate it. Jay signed off last, with an impeccable font.
Words couldn't have described that very evening. No sentence that could come out of your mouth could have ever even begun to explain to a complete stranger about how you had ended up in Sunghoon's car, driving to his house in silence. Shrugging off the moral doubts in the corner of your brain, you stared out the window into a dewy night.
Relax, you thought to yourself, there wasn't anything wrong with what you were doing.
Was there?
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chaosandmarigolds · 6 months
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Dad!Simon who insisted you go on the vacation, because of course he can handle his baby girl and his six year old (almost six, but Ollie rounds up)
Simon who knew he had it in the bag....
for about two hours
Simon who made bagels for dinner; wassss this close 🤏to making Ollie eat dirt because WHAT DO YOU MEAN you don't like bagels now you were begging for them in the store!
Simon who made it about forty hours before he gave him and called Johnny
Simon who had no idea why Ollie was being so gosh darn annoying
Simon who had previously made a bet with Price that he wouldn't need help so therefore he would rather die than call Price even though Ollie idolizes his 'grandfather'
''s Johnny, missed ya but leave a message at the lil' beep."
"John MacTavish I swear to god if you don' call me back in ten minutes I will personally post thos' pictures of ya in Afgan."
two minutes later-
"ya know that's a real low blow-"
"I need you to take Oliver to th' park- Tessie isn't goin to sleep with him 'roun."
"Call the capn, he's closer to ya."
"I will not do that."
"Ugh, fine- lemme tell my girl then'll be there in twenty."
Simon who told Oliver to behave for his uncle and then happily sent them away- which finally he would be able to put the exhausted newborn to sleep
Simon was finally able to doze off on the sofa, the baby happily snoozing away on his chest and everything seemed perfect with the world
"MISTER RILEY UNCLE JOHNNY IS IS-HES-" The thundering slam of the door being swung open not only woke up Simon but the baby who aptly began to sob to the sudden change of pace, Oliver however did not care "UNCLE JOHNNY SUCKS."
Uncle Johnny told Ollie not to kick the ball into the river
Simon who is flabbergasted because even Johnny looked shook to his core, sure they had been at the park for about five hours but like-???
John MacTavish...brought down .... by Simon's six year old
Simon who, after ten minutes of the baby screaming for their mother and refusing to take their bottle with disgruntled wails of pain and Ollie so tired he can't think straight so he's also a sobbing and angry disaster and Johnny's just standing there by the door waiting for answers and everything is so loud-
"Capn?"
"Oh! Hi, sweetheart," John's wife answered the landline and he could hear her voice call for her husband, "Hi, how are you and lil' ones?"
Simon looked at Ollie who was currently in time out for stealing his sisters binkie for the tenth time, "Not great."
"O-"
"Simon." Price's voice cut in and it took about five seconds to get everything account for, "Ya already called Johnny right?"
"Yessir."
"Did you try Kyle?"
"No sir, he's on his honeymoon."
'"Ah-that's right, that's right."
Silence
"Sir I would like your help."
"Ha! Knew it! Alrighty, missus and I'll be there in...i dunno- you boys hungry? She made that-honey whatcha make?" indistinct conversation, "Ma'am said it didn't matter, she'll bring it anyway. Forty minutes?"
Simon looked at Johnny, who was on 'keep ollie in said time out' picking up the kid whenever he would try and run off. "Can you make it twenty, sir?"
Simon and Johnny who, out of habit, stood at attention as soon at the captain let himself into the house
Simon who looked a bit worse for wear, even with his non existant sleep scheulde in the military he had never looked so fatigued
Simon who had the baby out of his arms by Price's wife within two minutes of them being there
Simon who loves his son, he loves him (internal mantra) but he is making him look bad to his captain so the little twerp better get his act together.
"Riley."
"Yessir."
"How long is your block?"
"Two kilometers around."
"Two laps."
faltering silence through the house, Simon stared at the captain as he helped Ollie tie his sneakers by the door. The silence did mean Tessie had finally fallen asleep but he was- "I'm sorry?"
"Two laps, you, Johnny, and Oliver." Price looked to the kid, who looked more angry at the world than anything else, "Go. Dinner will be ready when you get back."
Simon was about to argue but Ollie beat him to it, "I don't want to run."
"You don't want to run?"
Oliver seemed a bit taken back, "No. So I'm not going to."
"Okay. You can clean the entire house- including your sisters nappy's, for a week, yeah?"
A pause.
"Fine, i'll go on the stupid run."
Simon who might as well be walking with the pace Oliver chose to keep
Johnny who took off sprinting because lord knew that man was starving and Mrs. Price's food was heaven on earth
Simon who sat down on the side of the road when the little guy was out of breath
Simon that mostly ran in silence until Ollie broke it
"Why did mom leave?"
huh?
"What?"
"Mom she-she just...she left us, wh-"
"Whoa-whoa whoa, mum didn't leave-mum didn't leave us wh-whoa, Olls," he had collapsed to his knee when the boy started to speak just to look at him in the eyes and he tried to read the boys expression, "Mum would never leave you, she loves you so much."
"Then where did she go?? Why didn't she say goodbye?"
"She's with her friends, and her flight left 'fore you woke up, Olls. Laddie, she wouldn't leave you."
Simon who had called you, even though there was time difference as everyone was sitting down to eat dinner
"oh...wow the gang's back together," You grumble as you rub your eyes, having been dead asleep, only for the camera angle to change suddenly and it was just a close up angle of your son's face, "Hi baby."
"Mom guess what Uncle Johnny did."
"EY, LET'S NOT TELL YER MOM BOUT THAT."
"Hey mom?" The boy was easily distracted and then looked down at the phone again.
"Yeah baby?"
"Never go on away again, dad said so."
You stay silent for a moment, blinking, because in all three years you and Simon had been together Ollie had never referred to him as 'dad' or anything remotely close. "Your...right, yeah-I'm pretty bored here anyway."
Simon, who was fine with you going on little getaways just not anymore how dare you try and leave him alone
"You sure it's okay if I stay a few more days?"
With a short laugh he looks over the living room, where Johnny and Olls were fast asleep watching some cartoon he didn't know the name of while John and His wife had chosen to stay in the guest room for the night. It would hell if you stayed for a few more days.
"Of course, luv, I got the boys an' Tessie needs to learn who they are anyway."
"I guess. Okay, the ride is here. I love you."
"I love you more."
(annnnway that's it <333 any comments you wanna leave or anything like that makes my day!)
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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months
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Slasher!König with soft hearted!reader? He’s always keeping her away from his victims because one he doesn’t want her to see all the blood and gore, but primarily because she’s too easy to guilt trip. Had caught reader in the middle of helping one of his victims escape after they shared their sob story with her.
Konig drags you from a screaming victim by the scruff of your neck, like you're a disobedient cat in dire need of discipline. He knows you're kind and soft, and you're easily manipulated - after all, the only reason you stayed with him instead of trying to kill him or run away with the authorities is that he shared his mortifyingly sad story about a dad who never paid him attention and a mom who never liked the two of them. You're a good person, and your murder husband abuses it...not like he would admit to either of this, of course. He keeps you away from the basement, always insisting on you not going with him - even if you want to help bring food to the victims; he knows better than this now. He catches you cutting your own food portion so you could feed some ungrateful bastard, and he completely forbid you from feeding them - even though you swear you'll be good now. He can't punish you, he already gets all of his murder kick from the victims, so he is acting soft and even pliant with you...as long as you're not trying to screw his torture plans, of course. He gives you some simple tasks, just so you would stop being so damn adamant about messing with his killing schedule - he makes you cook, for example, always opting for some really elaborate meal so you would be stuck at the kitchen for hours while feeling insanely useful. He gave you a goat and a few chickens to look after, and you've been happily learning the art of making-believe cottage life while he is too busy dissecting his victims. He is trying to distract you in other ways, too - for example, fucking you right after he just got out of shower, so you won't listen to the screams of his victims in the basement. He doesn't know why you're always so soft to the victims even after all this time, but he makes it a goal to fuck this out of you...he tries to, at least, always insist on making sure you know your place before everything. If it means putting you in a locked room and only coming inside to fuck you mindlessly and give you some food scraps, than so be it.
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