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mywritersmind · 28 days ago

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NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4

↳pt.3

christmas special

part one - part two

summary : He’s still annoying, just happens to have a charming face that softens the blow. While Y/n and Max continue their sibling rivalry, P plays matchmaker, and two idiots are left alone with a cheesy romance movie and a persistent ex.

og summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.

listen up : dual pov! brothers best friend! kissing😳 suggestive content. swearing. BANTERRRRR

words : 4158

⋆｡‧˚⋆

She doesn’t see me yet. I definitely see her.

She’s on her tippy toes that are covered in festive fluffy socks. My gaze drags up her legs to her ass, she’s got these nauseatingly tiny shorts on and a cropped baggy shirt to match.

Her arm is outstretched to try and get a mug but I can’t focus on anything but her. She’s biting her lip, a frustrated look on her face that’s making my mind think very inappropriate things. Her hair is messy and looking perfectly pullabl-

“Shit!” She reaches it, and promptly drops it, causing it to smash onto the tile.

Y/n drops to her knees, looking under the sink for something as her back arches, her head disappearing into the cabinet as I practically drool over her.

“Fucking hell.” I mumble, walking forward to help her and ignore my body’s reaction to hers. “Clumsy this early in the morning, huh sunshine?”

She glares at me, a tiny broom in her hand as she cleans up her mess.

“Let me help.” I go to reach for the broom but she pulls back, saying no and landing on her ass. My smile fades as I recognize the look on her face. “You alright?”

She crosses her legs, dropping the broom and shoving her face into her hands, “Yes.” It’s mumbled and clearly a lie.

I start cleaning up her mess, it’s not a lot and I don’t really know what else to do in her presence. I stand and dump the ceramic pieces in the trash, joining her on the floor again and poking her knee.

“Thanks.” She sounds stuffy, like she’s about to cry. She almost makes me feel bad for checking her out so much while she’s so sad.

“Talk to me, Sunny.” She sniffles and looks up at me. She's not crying but her eyes are red teary.

“I hate when you’re nice to me.” She pushes her hair back, her hands covered from her sleeves. I blink and she sighs, knowing that I want her to continue, “My ex.”

I don’t mean to groan but at least my dramatic act makes her laugh a bit, hitting my knee.

“He won’t stop calling. And I can’t block him because I work with the wanker!” She says exhausted, answering my question about the block button yesterday.

“Well at least he has one thing correct.” She raises a brow at my words, “He knows he lost someone good.”

Y/n shakes her head, “I hate him, Lando.” She breathes, “I hate him more than you.”

This makes me frown, sarcastically saying, “I’m flattered.”

She smiles a bit just as her phone dings again, she screams and puts her head back in her hands, “Y/n.” I say her name for the first time in a while, “Have you responded at all?”

She shakes her head, “I can’t.” She whispers it and I'm worried she actually wants him back. I never met him, but her instagram photos were enough for me to hate him.

I hear footsteps down the stairs, P coming around the corner humming, her smile slowly fading as she spots the two of us on the floor. “Good morning?”

I take Y/n’s hand and practically drag her upward, “Morning, P.” Y/n groans and leans against the counter, tearing her hand away from me and shoving her face into the tabletop now.

P points at Y/n, looking at me quizzically as I shake my head. She understands and skips over to the coffee machine, we sit in silence as P makes Y/n a hot chocolate.

Y/n smiles softly as P hugs her and hands her the hot chocolate. P continues to make her breakfast as I look at Y/n. She’s storing her drink and looking depressed.

It’s christmas! No time for sadness and sucky ex’s! I slide her the marshmallows as her wides widen a bit, smiling at me before dumping half the bag in.

My stomach does a weird thing at the way she looks at me… when Max joins us, I’m quickly distracted but still feel a tiny bit sick. “So! What are you two doing tonight while we’re out?”

Max asks as I scratch the back of my neck, “Um…”

“Movie night!” Y/n looks happier now, “Get ready Norris, welcome to the wonderful world of cheesy romances.”

⋆༺

you

Outside looks like a snowstorm yet we brave it for a quick brunch at a tiny diner that’s packed. I pull off my beanie, my hair a mess.

Lando unravels his scarf, laughing at me, “Looking good, Sunshine.” I stick my tongue out at him as Max ruffles my hair even more.

We sit and eat and for once, there’s no odd tension. I don’t yell at Lando and he doesn’t tease me. P and Max are squished together on the booth side while Lando’s arm is strewn around the back of my chair.

I let it slide because he looks like he’s in a food coma. His eyes are closed and he’s peacefully resting his head to the side.

Our comfortable silence turns to Lando and Max fighting over who’s paying while P and I wave at the baby sitting next to us.

Lando’s fingers wiggle next to my head, leaning in closer to see the baby. She giggles as Lando pokes my face and I give him an annoyed look.

The mom is looking at us so I smile and laugh a bit, “Sorry, she’s adorable.”

“Don’t be!” her hand pulls the cover back so we can see her more. Her little hands scrunch up and Lando and I make the same noise at the same time, “This is June. We call her sunny because- well it just fits her happy little personality!”

I feel Lando’s hand stop moving next to me as P and Max continue gushing over her. Lando clears his throat, “She looks like you.”

The mom smiles wider, “Thank you. You four are just adorable! Are you all here for christmas?”

Max nods, “I dragged my girlfriend and my best friend to have a quiet christmas.”

P smiles as Max squeezes her arm, “Which ultimately failed because these two never shut up.”

Lando laughs, “Like you’re one to talk! You and Y/n speak in a whole different language.” He goes back to playing peek-a-boo with the baby who just adores him.

“She likes you.” The mom says to Lando, “He’ll be good with kids.” She directs this at me which makes my breath cut out and Lando go into a fit of coughs.

Our waiter brings back our cards as P grabs her bag, “It was really nice meeting you. We have to run to the store for our new tradition!”

I raise a brow, “New tradition?”

Max is smiling like an idiot, “Gingerbread contests are back! Don’t be scared sis, just accept your loss now.”

⋆༺

Up until we were Ten and Eleven, Max and I made gingerbread houses every year. I'm not sure why we stopped, maybe because our parents hated how it always ended in tears because everything we did was a competition.

Max’s great idea was to start this up again. So we gathered the boxes and some extra supplies just to make a complete mess of the dining area while Sabrina Carpenter’s christmas music blasts and Max and I scream at each other.

We’ve made a sort of barrier right down the middle of the table. With my luck, Max picked his girlfriend to be on his team because there were only two houses left in the store.

So Lando and I are elbow deep in shitty frosting and tears of laughter. He wipes his eyes but gets frosting onto his face while doing it, “No you-” grabbing my hand, he moves it to steady the already falling house.

We’re a mess and it’s not helping that Lando keeps eating the gumdrops, “Norris!” I yell and slap his hand, “You’re killing my gumdrop families!”

“Your gumdrop families are yummy.” I roll my eyes as he mumbles to himself.

Max and P don’t fight but I'm pretty sure Lan and I sound like a war zone. I’m icing the roof while Lando drops random candy onto it. I kick him with my slipper under the table, “You’re ruining the aesthetic.”

He mimicks my voice, “You’re ruining the aesthetic. Just say you’re in love with me and get over it.” I scoff and hit him with a red vine.

He grins as he take a bite out of it while I laugh at how messy he’s gotten. “Shut up and come help me.” Lando pulls his seat back and sits on it backwards, resting his chin on the back of it and finally contributing.

We add more frosting, kinderds (per Lando’s request), candy canes, and some weird pearl candy P found.

I suck on a lolly while Lando continues to make the icing drip along the sides of the house, trying to mimic icicles. He’s very focused and flexes his arms while doing so. Squeezing out the partially hard icing and distracting me while doing it.

A loud bang sounds. Lando’s skeptical look and Max’s decision to shrug it off makes us continue on even when P starts to say it’s a ghost.

He sits back and admires his handy work, “You two are going down.” He says to Max and P, a mischievous expression on his face.

“Knowing you two… we’re fine.” P laughs and pokes her head around the barrier, her eyes are closed and her tongue out.

I scoff, “What does that mean!?”

I hear Max laugh now, “You’re a perfectionist and Lando’s biggest joy in life is to bug you!”

I stand up quickly, “You set me up!”

“All's fair in love and war.” I round the corner and look at their house. It’s perfect and pink!

I smile and cross my arms, “We can let the media decide this.”

Max smirks while P groans, “Can't we just end it here? You two are ridiculous.”

I grab Lando’s phone from his hand as he frowns, but doesn’t protest. I take a photo of Max holding their gingerbread house since P refused to be posted. Then I turn to Lando and smile, “Take your shirt off.”

“Hey! I expect that from Lando but not you!” Max eyes is both.

Lando head tilts as he looks at me curiously, “At least ask me on a date first, sunshine.” He does it anyways though, not caring out my brother.

“You’re totally unfairly manipulating this!” Max yells as Lando slips off his shirt and holds up our horrible little house.

I snap a photo of him grinning and flexing, and post it next to Max’s with a pole. “It’s called taking the matter into your own hands.”

Lando shivers as he pulls his shirt back on, smirking as he slips his finger into his mouth, cleaning off the icing and making eye contact with me. I clear my throat and turn to my friend who’s looking between the two of us.

“It’s cold in here, right?” P says suspiciously, “Babe, go turn up the heat.” Max disappears around the corner while we all start cleaning up and putting our houses on display on the windowsill

“It’s not moving!” Max yells from the other room, I can hear him hitting it.

“Maybe if you didn’t try to fix everything with force!” I stomp in and look at it with him, pressing my finger against the buttons.

“You’re not even trying-”

I groan, “You’re the one who-”

“Hey!” P yells, standing with her hands on her hips, “The rental lady said there’s a power box in the basement.”

Max pushes past me and hurries down the stairs I haven’t even gone near, “Christ he’s gonna blow us all up.” Lando follows as P shoots me a quick smile.

We can hear them arguing as I throw P a blanket and we wrap ourselves up and sit eating the extra candy. “Yours is so cute.” I sigh and look at her gingerbread house. It’s absolutely adorable and so her.

There’s tiny bows make out of red vines and pink starburst everywhere. She laughs, “I didn’t let Max touch it.” I laugh with her and pop a kinder into my mouth, “You and Lando are a good duo.”

I snort, “Right, a chaotic one.”

She shrugs, “Maybe. But I don’t know… It’s cute.” The second I realize where she’s going with this, I start to shake my head, “Listen!”

“No! No, Pietra! He’s… Fuck, He’s Lando Norris.” I’m still shaking my head as she dons an unconvinced expression.

“He flirts with you all the time!”

“In a joking way!” I argue, “And I can’t stand it!”

“He touches you a lot.”

“And It drives me crazy! He just likes pissing me off.”

She shakes her head slowly, a smile on her face as she brings the blanket up to her neck, “You like him.”

My face feels hot and I'm getting frustrated which is making it worse because she can tell, “He calls me names.”

“Yeah!” she scoffs, “an adorable nickname! That he made up when he was fifteen! The way he looks at you Y/n… it’s like- well…”

“Don’t say it!” I warn but the blonde doesn’t listen.

“It’s how Max looks at me.”

I sigh, putting my face in my hands, “P. Max is in love with you, Lando doesn’t…” My sentence ends in a whisper as she smirks, “I barely like him as a friend! Like literally three days ago I couldn’t stand him! Not much has changed.”

She shrugs, “By all means, keep it up. It’s entertaining to watch.” I roll my eyes and play with the wrapper in my hand as a bang comes from downstairs. “Just… you deserve someone like him.”

“He has like a million girlfriends.”

“He does not!” She laughs, “At least not anymore!” I give her a look as she reaches over and takes my hand, “All i’m saying is that I completely support whatever you do! Even if it’s a one night thing.” My eyes widen as she squeezes my hand and winks, “I won’t tell Max.”

I push her away and sit back in my chair, crossing my arms and smiling at my friend, “Also we’ll be gone for like three hours tonight.”

I laugh and throw a piece of candy at her as Lando and Max come up the stairs. Lando is picking cobwebs off of himself while Max wipes his hands on his jeans, “Welp, hopefully that worked.”

⋆༺

lando

“Let's watch Notting Hill.” She visibly pauses when I say it, looking at me confused with a bowl of popcorn over her blanket covered lap.

“Notting Hill!?” She repeats it, then shakes her head, “You never fail to surprise me, Lando.” I like it when she says my name, even when it’s a bit demeaning.

I lean my head back, she’s covered the couch in every blanket and pillow we could find. After the heater broke, she swore she was still cold so she’s extra bundled even though i’m sweating.

She finally tugs off her third layer of blankets and grabs the remote, “We’re watching a Christmas Prince.”

I frown but don’t say anything because I'm scared she’ll leave me down here alone and go call her best friend or something.

I’d rather play a game so we could talk or I could at least look at her, but she insists I have to watch this god awful movie.

She gave me some grace while eating delivered pizza and talking about the drivers she’s met which (scarily enough) is a lot.

Y/n is normally yelling at me during any movie to get me to shut up, but everytime I ask a question today, she answers in detail.

“Who’s this dick who took her cab!?” She smiles at my words, eating her popcorn and flipping her phone face down so it stops distracting her. “Ugly beard too.”

She gives me a look which makes me groan, “He’s the prince, isn’t he!?” She nods as I look up at her. Her hair is down and outright messy from her hood and the multiple blankets she has around her.

“It’s called a meet cute.” Y/n shrugs and watches the screen again.

“A meet cute?” I grab from her bowl, “But there was nothing cute about it.”

She eyes me, “Okay maybe it’s more of a meet hate… or a meet dislike? Maybe a meet argue.”

“Okay now I just want steak.” Y/n rolls her eyes again as I smile, “So, sort of like us?”

She sits up more, looking at me and laughing, “What would our meet hate be, then? I don’t even remember the first time we met.”

I’m a little offended because I do. “You were karting with Max and I for the first time and you totally ran me off the road!”

She turns more to me, “I don’t remember this but I'm going to stick up for my child self and say that it was your fault.”

My eyes roll. “You really have not changed. You blamed me for it because we were racing to win and Max got by both of us and ended up with the trophy.”

She laughs and fuck, I love that sound. “Sounds about right. But you definitely egged me on.”

“Oh one thousand percent! But I was just coping with the fact that the girl I had a crush on completely destroyed my ego!” I don’t really realize what I've said until she raises a brow.

“You had a crush on me!?” She laughs as I groan and shake my head.

I’m blushing now even though it was so many years ago, “I was like ten!”

“You fanciedddd me!” she drags out the words as she tries to pull the blanket off my head, “Norris!”

“Leave me alone!” She’s hitting me with a pillow now, “I had no idea what a terror you were!”

She scoffs, pulling back, “You little bitch, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know if you know this Sunshine, but you’re fucking terrifying.” Y/n’s eyes are teary from laughing and her smile is so big it almost makes me happy she found out.

“So what, you stopped having a crush on me when you actually got to know me?” I don’t want to lie to her, and I don’t know if I can about this.

“Shhh…” I grab a handful of the popcorn, “watch the movie.” She lays closer to me, her hair brushing my shoulder and our eyes both go back to the screen.

Y/n and I aren’t this close often. We aren’t ever alone. And I have to admit, the one thing I dislike about my best friend is that he is adamant on keeping me away from his sister.

His ‘Hands to yourself’ reminder before he left was enough fuel to my fire for the night.

“She’s annoying.” I groan after way too many minutes of this movie. I’m pretty sucked in though I won’t admit that to Y/n.

“That is a common theme with these movies.” She nuzzles her head closer to me, “It adds to the charm.”

“Does it?” I frown and adjust myself, trying to get more comfortable and slipping my arm around her and expecting to be met with criticism.

She stays quiet though, just rests her head against my shoulder and shifts to the side.

I don’t know if she realizes it, but she’s been playing with the sleeve of my hoodie for the past twenty minutes. I don’t want to move, I don’t want the movie to be over, I don’t want her to hate me again.

Her phone rings and a small groan comes from her, she sits up, her warmth leaving me. “I thought I turned this stupid thing off.” She grabs her phone, flipping it around and rolling her eyes at the contact.

WHORE DO NOT ANSWER

Is the contact name with a picture of her ex with drawn on devil horns. I can tell she’s about to hang up but I always act on impulse.

Her phone is in my hand in seconds, pressing answer and holding it to my ear as she screams and jumps on me. “Y/n?” It’s a guys voice and I hate him instantly, “You finally picked up!”

I flip Y/n off my back and shove my hand over her mouth, trying to hold her down while I listen to her ex’s annoying voice.

“Hey!” I say just as the line goes quiet at the sound of another man’s voice.

“Who’s this?” I roll my eyes at him even though only Y/n can see me. She’s squirming and mumbling under my hand. She is remarkably easy to hold back for how determined she is.

“None of your business! How about we cut to the problem at hand and discuss why the fuck you’re still calling Y/n after you cheated on her?” he tries to talk but I cut him off, “Take a long look in the mirror bud because you will never be good enough to win her back.”

“Is this her new boyfriend?” He asks sternly.

“I’ll tell you that i’m not someone to fuck with, especially when it comes to Y/n. You don’t deserve to ever even look at her again but she is a professional woman who can be civil, even if it is towards a jackass like you.” He’s quiet now and Y/n is getting free so I hurry up, “Y/n has been gracious and practically a fucking saint to deal with your shit for the past year so stop calling!”

She finally breaks free and ends the call, out of breath and looking at me like I'm worthy of death.

She throws her phone onto the couch, on her knees and pushing back her messy hair. “He completely deserved it.” I try to back myself up as I fall onto my elbows, looking up at her.

She’s staring at me still, and I'm slightly scared for my life. But then her eyes soften and she does the most unexpected thing i’ve ever experienced.

She kisses me.

Her hands are on my face and her lips are squished against mine. We fall back on the blankets as my hands find her waist and I fully understand what’s happening.

I kiss her back, hard and fast like if I don’t take this opportunity now, it might never happen again.

She’s on top of me and just the weight of her makes my dick twitch. I slip my hands under her hoodie, her skin warm and soft. She lets out a little whimper when my hands tighten against her hips, unconsciously grinding into me.

“Fuck.” I mumble against her lips as her hands go to my hair. She’s breathing heavier and just as i’m about to start on her neck, the door opens.

She’s off me in a second, “Fuck.” Her hand goes to her mouth and her eyes go wide as the footsteps of our friends echo through the house.

“Oh, of course.” I say exasperatedly, sitting up and dragging a pillow onto my lap.

“Landooo! Y/n!” Max calls for us as I point at her lips which are now the same shade of red as her cheeks.

I reach over and smooth out Y/n’s hair. She looks so genuinely shocked and scared while I'm just annoyed that we had to be interrupted.

She plops down on the other side of the couch, pulling the blanket up high to her face and avoiding my eyes. “In here!” I mumble as they walk through the doors.

I look back to see Max and P all dressed up and smiling. They look wine drunk, holding hands while P kicks off her heels.

“Movie time!” P giggles and rounds the couch to sit next to Y/n who makes eye contact with me and for some reason, makes me laugh.

Max wraps his arm around P while looking at us funny. Y/n is giggling now while I just cover my face with a pillow and shake my head, “So what are we watching?”

P picks another hallmark movie and I make eye contact with Y/n again. I start laughing and Max seems genuinely annoyed this time, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” I say quickly. “How was your night?”

“Perfect!” P snuggles into her boyfriend, “How about you two?”

Y/n shrugs as if she wasn’t on top of me moments ago, “Boring. Lando hated the movie.”

“I did not! I was just distracted.” No one bats an eye at my excuse except for Y/n who hides her smirk with her hot chocolate.

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris series #lando norris fluff #lando x you #f1 christmas #christmas fanfic

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gutsby · 1 year ago

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I’m a Good Girl, Officer!

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.

“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.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #rick grimes smut #shane walsh smut #rickyl

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obsessivevoidkitten · 8 days ago

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The Yeti's Cave

Yandere Male Yeti x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, pleasurable sex, oil like precum, size difference, rut, language barrier, kidnapping, general yandere behavior Word Count: 1.1k (Took a tiny break from comms to give you guys a winter fic that I hope you will all enjoy. Not my best work, but I hope it will feed you. I am sorry I have been writing so slow lately.)

It was winter in the town of Whelm. Not too unpleasant. Rather cozy, to be perfectly honest. Curled up by the fire. But Whelm was in the valley. Winter in the northern mountains was a frigid hell that few would venture into.

But you had to. A week before cold weather had hit there was a messenger from the village on the other side of the treacherous mountains. A sickness had taken hold, they had urgent need of medicines that could only be crafted from ingredients found around the valley. But it took time to gather and collect such supplies when they were needed at such scale.

You were the apprentice to the wizened old apothecary. A seemingly ancient man who had taught you as much as he could about collecting medicinal herbs, preparing them, and administering them. Seeing as he was so old, only you could make the trip and treat the villagers past the mountain.

You managed to make it there in time. But while you were on your way back home winter kissed the region.

Caught in a flurry of stinging wind and violent snow you barely managed to make it into the relative safety of an odd smelling cave. You wrapped your coat tightly around you. Was this how you were going to go out? Trapped in a cave with limited supplies? Slowly fading into the cold in a weird smelling cave?

As it happened, no.

There was a loud rumbling growl from deep within the cave. Your eyes widened, but you told yourself it was just the wind entering the deeper reaches of your makeshift shelter and making weird noises. But then you heard it again, louder this time.

From the depths emerged a fearsome beast the likes of which you had only heard rumors of. A hulking form, rippling muscles apparent even under thick white fur, a human-like face with sharp teeth and icy blue eyes, and two curled horns atop a shaggy mane of long white hair.

Despite the cold, that got your blood flowing and your heart flowing, you were out and in the snow immediately. A possible death in the cold mountains was better than a certain death by that man-like beast.

Ikkan, the yeti who you had run from, was worried. You were an odd thing that he had never encountered before. But you clearly had no proper fur except what was on your head, and your artificial covering didn’t seem all that effective. You’d freeze out there!

And thus he made it his mission to go and retrieve you.

And he succeeded. Expeditiously.

He dragged you back, kicking and screaming, into his cave. Deeper into it. He held you down on his fur-lined bed with the hope it would warm you up. He also cuddled close, though you still struggled despite his good intentions.

Ikkan decided he would take care of you and you could be his tiny mate. He was lonely, in rut, and you’d definitely die without him to care for you during this harsh time of year. Besides, some part of you clearly wanted him to be your husband. You had entered his den that very clearly smelled of him, after all.

In an effort to calm you down he tried to communicate with you, but each harsh guttural word sounded like a threat to your ears. You were convinced he had saved you to eat you later.

He moved on to offering you food and water but you wouldn’t give up your resistance.

Maybe you were having trouble understanding that he wasn’t intending to hurt you? That he just wanted to be the best he could be for his small mate. How could he get his intent through to you? The answer was clear! He just had to give you some high quality sex! Yeti cum would keep you cozy and you’d know exactly what he wanted to do with you.

You kicked and squirmed as the large furry thing held you down and removed your clothing. His huge cock had come out of its sheath, making his plan for you exceedingly clear. You tried to kick him away but he held you still and patiently applied precum to your hole and massaged it in to lubricate your tight entrance.

Since you were so much smaller than he was he knew you’d need some special attention before slipping into you.

He added his thick saliva to the mix and eventually got to the point where he could easily slip in several fingers into your twitching little hole, making you gasp when he wiggled them around inside of you.

Ikkan knew his little human was ready. He sat on his large bed of furs and pulled you close, planting you firmly on his cock while nestling your shivering body into his warm chest. It really felt amazing. Inside and out. He was surprisingly soft and his touch warmed you quickly.

At the same time, his cock continuously exuded warm oily precum that heated you up from the inside out. He fucked away your resolve in record time. It was clear to you now that he was in no way trying to injure you. Unless you counted having your senses fucked out of you. You wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled into his cozy chest. You even began bouncing on his big cock, desperately trying to get it deeper inside you despite your earlier protests.

The yeti smirked, he knew you’d love his dick.

Ikkan was overjoyed to give his human what they wanted. He quickened the pace and went a bit harder, holding your sides as he began really fucking into you. Blush crept across your face as the two of you came together. The pair of you shivered not from cold, but from pure pleasure.

He cuddled you as you leaned on him with his slowly softening cock still in you before eventually pulling out and laying you on his bed of furs. Strangely, your body seemed to have somehow absorbed the cum and it kept you well heated without the need for your clothing.

For the moment, your brain was overstimulated and you had not fully processed what had happened. But that didn’t matter much to Ikkan, he would take the opportunity to get some food and water in you and if he noticed you becoming bratty again he would just give you some more top tier yeti cock.

You didn’t know when spring would usher in better weather. And it didn’t really matter, because no matter what happened, you would never be leaving.

#yandere terato #yandere x reader #monster boyfriend #gender neutral reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere monster #male yandere x gn reader #my ocs #yandere yeti #yeti x reader #My OC Ikkan

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wetpussyju1ce · 18 days ago

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the smallest Omega in town takes on the biggest Alpha.

+18 mdni

Alpha!König x Omega!fem reader

note: reader is described as skinny. small wrists and bony knees. shorter than the 141.

John's pack was known to be extremely loyal and fiercely protective over each other. They were nice though, friendly and liked to mingle with other packs and families in the village.

They were also extremely close to each other and in tune with each other's needs. And that's how the pack found out that König, their big, awkward Alpha, needed a bit of help when it came to ruts.

He usually spends them alone, much to his packs disagreement over those arrangements because it can't be good for you, it can't! Then they decided to take matters into their own hands and try to find König a rut partner. It was a very serious matter for them, they coaxed König out of details and descriptions about what he likes. They know he doesn't really have a preference if they're Alpha, Omega or Beta. So that's a good start.

He likes them pretty, soft around the edges and smaller than him, which could be literally anyone in the whole village considering his sheer size.

And that was about it.

So Johnny, Kyle, Simon and John went to work. Looking for willing unmated wolves to spend König's ruts w him. Surprisingly it was easy to find willing partners, they know König, have seen him around and the idea of being impaled on his knot was attractive to quite a few of them.

But the real problem started when König asked for a try-out, before his rut hits, because he knows that a knot of his size could be considered a weapon. And he doesn't want to feel the rejection and hurt during his rut when he realises his partner can't take him, or are scared of hurting.

So they accepted, all of them, pretty Alphas, shy Omegas and tiny Betas.

And it didn't go well, they all believed it could be achievable, like how big can he really be? Body-horror big, apparently because what the fuck.

Oh and König knew to anticipate this. The gods made a joke out of him when building him in his mother's womb. They gave him everything it was to be a perfect Alpha, and gave him the biggest knot that no Omega, or Alphsa/Beta could take. It was ridiculous.

He lost hope and decided to busy himself with rut preparations, stocking up one of their many cottages deep in the forest, away from everyone.

His pack was sad for their sweet Alpha, it pulled at their heart to smell his upset scent. he scented sad and defeated and they really wanted to try harder, to make it all better.

it got to a point where they had no idea what more could they do because obviously nobody could take his knot without causing themselves injuries. and their Alpha can't be alone forever, surely??? I mean, that's a bit dramatic but he obviously craved that type of connection and bond with someone. he can't knot his fist and someone's thighs, forever, it wasnt enough!

and when all hope seemed lost their doorbell rang.

and there she was. the tiniest Omega they've ever seen. well, she wasnt that small, but compared to them, she sure as hell was, dainty and skinny too, bony knees and tiny wrists. she was standing there, wearing a pair of shorts, boots and a t-shirt under a flannel, she looked like she just finished gardening, dirt stuck to her knees and caking her boots.

"Hello?" Simon greeted, confused.

"Is König in?" She asked, looking up at the taller man.

"No, why?" Simon raised a brow.

"Oh and I'm here for the rut partner try-out, thing. if that's still happening." She said, shrugging, all casual.

Simon's mind screeched to a stop, did she say try-outs?? is that how everyone in the village saw it as?? what in the hell??

"What the hell are you talking about?" Simon said, utterly confused.

"What? Did he find someone?" She tilted her head to the side, confused.

"No, no-- Just, what makes you think you can take his knot? You're fucking tiny." Simon went straight to the point.

She smiled, kind and unbothered, "I know he's big, I heard all sorts of things, but I believe I can help, and if it works, I'd also like an arrangement out of it, a heat partner if he'd be willing."

Simon feels like he should slam the door on her face. Just to save her guts from absolute and sure destruction by König's cock because no way in hell would she be able to take him. but then the Omega looks sure of herself. not cocky. just looks friendly and honest and she looks ready to help.

Simon maybe should have asked her to save her guts and go away but he doesn't. he let's her in, not knowing that she has spent years of her heats trying to shove as much of her toys inside her as possible. she doesn't even mention the fact that she ends up fisting her cunt every heat cycle. or when she has a heat partner w a knot, that knot ends up inside her alongside a toy at the same time.

the Omega ends up meeting König, says she would like to help. he disagrees at first because he's not in the mood to take her to the hospital, he really really doesn't want to hurt her. but then she begs him to trust her w the sweetest face he's ever seen, lets him scent honesty all over her and he agrees to give her a chance.

König n the Omega end up talking abt gardening and the sellers at the market and the prices these days. they quickly bond over growing vegetables and their shared dislike for that one guy that sells strawberries and swears that they're that naturally huge (and they're not even sweet, what the hell??)

they agree on a date, and a time, they would try to see how it goes before König's rut hits, and if everything goes alright, they'll spend it together.

when they meet, König's weary, she's not, calm and happy as a clam. she asks him to trust her, and it starts off easy, she holds his hands and König shivers because his are literally giant mitts compared to hers. she sweet talks him into relaxing, she sits on his lap and they start talking a little, then she goes ahead and kisses him and he realises very quickly that he likes that, he really does, her lips taste sweet and her scent is so sweet and delicious.

König's alpha quickly realises that this may actually work and he gets excited in record time, tents his trousers and gets his mouth on her tits, it takes no time for her to start leaking like a broken faucet. König's hand are slippery between her legs and he's about to pass out at the intensity of it all. she's everywhere around him and all he can do is suck on her breasts and purr.

then he gets a finger inside her tight and warm hole. it's wet and feels soft. then another goes next. and another. all the while she's making all sorts of noises, clawing at him, and the more fingers he can push inside her the more he's awed and amazed because for someone so tiny and fragile, she sure as hell can take so much inside her.

König wants a better view so he gets her on the bed, laying on her back and absolutely hammers his fingers inside her cunt, watching her stomach bulge everytime he drives his fingers in.

he's about to lose his mind at the sight alone, and then she cries, squeals and squirts all over his hand and arm.

König then gathers her in his arms, chest to chest, gets his arms under her legs, as they're pressed against her body, practically folding her in half, carrying all of her weight in his massive arms like she was just a doll to him, and finally dips the head of his cock between her pussy lips. he starts to push further in and she's moaning, clawing at his neck, he gets halfway in and he's sweating bullets because she's so tight and she's pulsing around him and yet, he knows she can take more. and he was right because he keeps dropping her on his length until it's all inside, to the root, and she wails, comes again, shaking in his arms and König is losing his mind, his knot swelling in record time. when he comes, he's dizzy and he's heaving like he ran a marathon and he hasn't even thrusted inside of her just yet.

they make all sorts of noises when fucking. it's animalistic. König sounds like he's about to pass out and the Omega sounds like that's what she's been waiting for all of her life. It was filthy, intense and so fucking loud that when Gaz was sent to check on them, as they used one of the many cottages John's pack owns, the moment the smell hits his nose, he freezes and turns back around, he does not want to be anywhere near them if that's how potent their combined scent is.

at least he knows they're having a great time. so he goes back, well, more like runs back to the house, a little bit scared and excited because finally their Alpha got to knot someone!

and when all that's said and done, and the Omega and alpha come back to the shared house the next day. König is out of it, nothing but statics behind his eyes while the Omega looks content, eats everything she's offered by König's pack, starved. but winces once in a while when she moves in a certain way. she scents happy, and König scents confused but content nonetheless. and that's everything his pack wished for.

#fanfiction #18+ mdni #fanfic #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #könig #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig x you #könig x y/n #konig cod #konig x reader #konig call of duty #konig x you #konig mw2 #cod mw2 smut

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hurthermore · 8 months ago

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»»------► 𝚂𝚎𝚡 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚠𝚒𝚌𝚑 (18+)

Pairing: 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Summary: 𝙱𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝙳𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗. 𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚢𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

Word Count: 𝟹.𝟷𝚔

Warnings: 𝙱𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚐𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚕, 𝚟𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚟𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛

A/N: 𝙰 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝙴𝙰𝚄𝚃𝙸𝙵𝚄𝙻 @selenezq 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴𝙻𝚈 @lustylita 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲 @muppetdust !!<𝟹

Being the wife of the infamous Radio Demon came with struggles, struggles that didn’t derive internally from your actual marriage, but externally. Alastor was the perfect husband, doting on you as if you were a higher entity, pampered you like you meant the world to him, loved you like you were the most precious thing in existence. No, the struggles you had to deal with came from the mere fact that people craved to either kidnap you or end your life, simply because you were Alastor’s only weakness.

Luckily for you, Alastor was a possessive and obsessed man, a fact you came to figure out even before he had begun courting you; he had claimed you as his before you had even been aware of it, which was something that you oddly found yourself not only minding, but adoring.

It was normal for you to feel his shadow stalk you within your own silhouette whenever Alastor wasn’t present due to his possessive nature and his primal urge to protect you, so whenever you found yourself parted from the presence of your darling husband, you would always find his smiling shadow linked to you. It would do just about everything and anything to make you smile, blush, and swoon as it craved to see your happiness just as your dear Alastor did.

Even now, as you waltzed around the streets of hell without your husband by your side due to him having to deal with some frivolous denizens across town that had breached the contract of soul ownership, you had intentions to visit Rosie; a dear friend of you and your husbands, intending to meet up for a catch up and gossip session. Naturally, in tail, Alastor’s shadow danced around you as you made your way to Cannibal Town.

Watching his shadow as it attempted to contort laughter from your larynx by acting almost like an imbecile, pulling ridiculous faces and swirling around your legs to tickle your skin, you had failed to notice the dozens of blood thirsty demons behind you; pursuing you as they distinguished you as the Radio Demon’s wife. An easy target to gain leverage over Alastor himself.

Continuing to walk as you fixated your entire attention on the adorable shadow that belonged to your husband, you had flinched as its smile suddenly tensed with frustration and anger. Before you could register as to why it was suddenly filled with aggravation, its mouth unhinged, widening inhumanely, an image you had never witnessed previously before a loud screech erupted from its gaping mouth; a screech that almost made your ears bleed as it caused every piece of untouched glass that surrounded you to shatter into tiny little pieces instantly.

Placing your hands over your ears in reflex, you glimpsed at the conjuring of your red husband; his form materialising at a rate of panic. Fully coming into existence before you, Alastor’s eyes blacked out before his form grew larger. Gaping in surprise, you had no inclination as to why Alastor had suddenly appeared before you, let alone contorting into his large demonic form; and before you could turn around to witness who or what was the focus of your husbands anger, one of his tentacles had seeped through the cracks of the pavement below you, wrapping its slimed length around your waist only to harshly pull you away from the barrage of whatever lurked behind you.

Shocked, you clenched your fingers into the appendage as it lifted your body from the ground below you before placing you behind your husband’s ever growing form. Carefully landing you on your feet, the tentacle refused to let go of you as your husband began picking up numerous people, squishing them into the pavement, forcing their blood to splatter against his clothes; even going as far as tearing some beings limb from limb, consuming parts of their demonised flesh in the process; all the while you could hear screams of anarchy and panic echo through the thick air of hell as bypassers attempted to avoid your husbands enraged assault.

It was then that his shadow embraced you from behind, attempting to comfort you as your husband continued pouring the blood of demons onto his well presented attire; you were unsure as to why everything that was currently unfolding before you was even happening, but it didn’t take you long to realise that Alastor was protecting you, sheltering you from any potential danger as he preserved your life.

Swooning at the act of your extremely attractive husband murdering people simply to protect you, your thighs tensed against one another as you looked back at his shadow; its usual black face tinged with a slight blush as it curled up against you, forcing its cold touch to sink into your warm flesh.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” You had asked it suggestively, referencing to how it had screeched for your husband like a battle horn demanding for reinforcements. It had nodded with extreme enthusiasm, trembling in pleasure from your words; making you laugh ever so slightly as you leaned into its embrace, watching as your husband ended the last few living lives of demons whom had attempted to harm you.

As your husband’s ridiculously large form began to reduce into his regular size, you ogled his bloodied suit and overcoat; his presence radiating such power from the show of dominance and strength. “Oh Ally!” You had swooned as the black appendage around your waist dragged you toward your loving husband whose smile had strained.

“Are you alright, my love?” He had asked you with a slight tint of anxiety in his tone; so subtle that you almost missed the way his voice dared to crack. Nodding as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, you allowed his blood soaked form to dirty the fabrics on your body as you embraced him, pressing your front against him with purpose, intent on showering your darling husband in the love he deserved.

“You’re so handsome, Ally.” You whispered into his hair as his sharp, taloned hands held you steadily around the indents of your waist. You could feel the sensations of his claws tightening into you as you complimented him with seduction rolling from your oral muscle. “So handsome, and so strong too.” Your voice rumbling in the same erotism as you continued to praise him; almost missing the way his breath had hitched ever so subtly as the words left your mouth. “And all mine too.”

As his reddish eyes glimmered with want, the tension in his shoulders tightened as he became flustered from the praise; it was an oddity for you and all the living denizens who had the privilege of seeing him in a state, which was none. Alastor was a force to be reckoned with, a demon that was a contortion of horrific features and had enacted equally as horrific offences, yet he was also a demon who would become a puddle for his wife and his wife alone.

Before he could process a response to you, which was unlike him, being the quick witted man he was, you had placed your lips against the corner of his mouth before pressing yourself fully on his own dried lips. He had responded rather quickly, allowing you to assault his mouth with your own as his clawed tips dragged along the spine of your back until it tangled within the roots of your hair, only to push you into him further.

You hadn’t been aware of your surroundings as you felt your husband's oh so familiar tongue seep into the cracks of your mouth, his wet muscle swirling around every gummy part of your ingress. You hadn’t noticed the world beyond your husband as he warped the two of you into the confines of your shared living quarters within the Hazbin Hotel; not until his hands had latched into the skin of your thighs, holsting you up before slamming you into the entry door vociferously.

Tightening your hold around his neck, you latched onto your desire filled husband as he held you up, his claws piercing ever so slightly into your flesh as he carried your weight with ease. The lustrous moan that reverberated from your larynx couldn’t be prevented as your upper back was pressed into the bitter cold door; your husband’s smile widening within the heated tongue tying kiss as he forced his hardening cock to press against your clothed core.

All it took was for Alastor to snap his fingers before the textured fabrics that prevented you to feel his furred skin had been dispersed into a realm of reality that didn’t exist. You couldn’t help but groan as the soft fur of your husband's chest pressed again the bare exposure of your breasts, contrasting the cold skin of his pelvis that rutted against your bared core.

His cock begged to wear your cunt; the same cunt that despite not receiving any foreplay, had widened for your husbands ever large phallic organ like a reflex; awaiting his penetration by overly lubricating itself.

Your husband was aware of how receptive he had trained your perfect little pussy to adhere to his cock and his cock alone; so without giving you proper foreplay, he had forced you to cry out softly as his fat cock penetrated your slicked walls. Every slight crevice, every throbbing vein, every twitch of his length could be felt within your tightening cunt as he furthered it within you; your breath heavily moaning his name in pleasure as you laid the back of your skull against the wooden door that assisted in keeping your balance upright as your husband fucked himself within you.

Before Alastor could exhaustively insert his heavy length within your cunt, you had felt another pair of hands grasp the cheeks of your posterior; hands that felt oddly familiar. Startled, you attempted to break the kiss between you and your husband, but as you leaned away ever so slightly, Alastor denied you the privilege of leaving the warm embrace of his mouth by digging his claws into the back of your scalp. “You stay attentive to me, darling; it’s just my shadow.” He spoke out between the kisses you shared.

Everything seemed to become warmer inside of you with this new found information as Alastor spoke with such eroticism. You had thought about including his shadow in your intimate sessions before, had thought about riding his shadow whenever Alastor wasn’t around, but you had always been too intimidated to ask, to initiate anything; afraid of how your husband would react to such a request.

But as the shadow underneath you continued to claw at your ass, you could only praise the gods in the depths of your psyche as Alastor allowed his dimensional breaking shadow to mess with the juice of your thighs and posterior.

Your attention was fixated back onto your husband's cock as he finally bottomed out inside your walls. Moaning as you basked in the pleasure of the fulfilling sensations his heavy cock sparked within your cunt, your moans contorted into a strangled gasp, your fingertips piercing into the furred skin of his shoulders as you felt something similar to a tongue intrude into the orifice of your ass.

His shadow was fucking his tongue into your ass, something you had never thought about nor believed would happen.

“I’m going to fill you up in every fucking hole, my darling wife.” You had heard your husband speak over your cock drunk moans with a possessiveness like no other. His hands gripping into your skin as he pulled his long length out of your widening cunt, only to thrust it back in with intention; the door behind you being forced to bang with preciseness as he rammed into you with his rough and unforgiving pace. “I’m going to fill your entire beautiful body with my essence so no one even entertains the idea of taking you from me.”

It was his way of telling you he was scared of the potential dangers that threatened to take you away from him, his way of preventing that very thing from happening.

Letting out wanton moans as the overwhelming sensations of your husband's cock and the tongue-like appendage in your ass, the early stages of an orgasm was slowly being built up. The long and slimy muscle intruding the sanctuary of your posterior had you crying in pleasure and uncomfortability whilst your husband's cock had you screaming in pure satisfaction. It was a violation you had never experienced before; Alastor had never touched the inside of your ass before, and for him to allow his shadow to just penetrate you like that had your core drenching in even more lubricant that doused your husband's hard cock.

“Does that feel good, my pretty little wife?” Alastor had asked you with a growl, his voice drenched with lust and primal rage as he continued to ram his cock into you; the door behind you being forced into a submission of bangs as your ass was continuously rocked into it with a rhythm as Alastors tip consistently entered and left your cervical opening.

Mumbling an arrangement of yeses, your husband’s yellowed toothed smile widened at your fucked out expression and dumbed out consciousness; and the appendage in your ass that felt so uncomfortable in such a good way retracted, much to your dismay. But before you could whine at the loss of fulfilment in your posterior, Alastor’s shadow had stuck to the door behind you, towering over you just like your husband did as he fucked you.

“You’re my good boy, aren’t you?” You had managed to mumble in moans despite how dumb your husband had resorted you to as you spoke to your husband’s shadow; its face lighting up in a red blush as it nodded far too enthusiastically to your question before it began prodding its cock against your ass. The whines of whispered groans that echoed from its being sent shivers along the flesh of your shoulders.

A cock that felt exactly the same as your husbands’.

Before you could pay the shadow anymore of your precious attention, Alastor had grasped his sharp claws into the skin of your face, forcing you to stay attentive to him and him alone. “I told you to stay focused on me; your husband.” He had snarled at you as his pace became harsher; relentless. Your attempts to scream in pleasured pain dwindled as a long, thick, black appendage forced its way down your throat as Alastor’s pace became violent and vicious.

Not having any time to register the look of pure pleasure that doused your husbands expression as he watched your mouth being fucked by one of his tentacles, your eyes squeezed shut as the shadow that belonged to the man you loved began to insert its cock into your ass with struggle; the length spearing your tight posterior open slowly.

“I told you darling. Warned you that I was going to fuck every single one of your holes.” Your husbands yellow smile was all you could make out beyond the black appendage that fucked it’s way into your throat. “But I do wonder if you can take more.” His words were laced with want, a desire to see you break.

His words hadn’t registered as your orgasm neared the edge of combustion, specifically all over your husband's cock; cocks? Your thighs tensing, trembling as a slow pulsation doused your lower stomach, your clit throbbing against your husbands tufts of fur and he continued to rock into you with reckless abandon; his shadows tongue prolonging out and onto your shoulder as it’s cock fucked into your ass whilst a tentacle tried to shove itself further into the depths of your oesophagus.

It was all becoming too much; and your peak was nearing at a rapid rate as the sensation of two cocks and a tentacle fucking into you all at different rates caused your mind to become absolutely blank.

Before your orgasm could reach its release, the size of your husband's cock seemed to contort into a strange shape, and as you slowly opened your eyes, you witnessed another conjured black appendage wrap itself around the thickness of Alastor’s ragingly red, wet, fat cock. Rolling your eyes back, your throat could only rumble as you moaned against the appendage in your throat; the shadow behind you still rutted its own cock inside your ass as it began to lick the side of your face like a damned dog.

“Such a good girl; such a good wife. My wife, taking everything I give her; you’re perfect darling.” He had spoken with pride, proud that your mind, body and soul had accepted, desired everything he had given you. Everything was too much, especially with his words of praise; too much yet all so good that you had forgotten how much noise you two were making, forgotten that other people inhabited the hotel, forgotten that everyone could probably hear your husband desecrating every single opening you had to offer as he fucked you against the rocking door.

You could hardly hold on to your husband as your arms became limp as the tentacle around his cock fully swirled around it, your concentration could only focus on the multiple sensations of thrusting, rutting and pounding as your thighs began to spasm uncontrollably, your orgasm spurting from your clit as you let out an assault of choked screams against the appendage in your mouth.

As the natural lubricate of your cum splattered against your husband and leaked against the cock in your ass, you could feel both Alastor and his shadow’s movements become incredibly erratic, a pace that would have you screaming in pain if it wasn’t for the appendage in your mouth.

The halting of their movements and the loud groans of wanton moans that left both of the figures that sandwiched you wasn’t what let you know they had ejaculated inside of you in two different places. No, it was the sensations of their harsh spluttering of copious amounts of cum that splattered against your walls, both vaginally and anally.

You didn’t even know his shadow could cum.

Until now that is.

Slowly, every appendage, every organ that was inside you retracted, forcing the stupid amount of mixed cum to drip erratically from your holes as you coughed up some air.

Hardly being able to make out what was going on from the intense assault on your body, you had almost missed the way your husband had smiled at you whilst his shadow continued to lick your face as both of their hands fingered their cum back into their respective holes.

Yet despite how erotic, how disgustingly deranged your husband had just acted, he said something contrastingly sweet; something he always seemed to do for you.

“The day you part from me is the day I cease to exist, my love.”

»»------► 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

yes i will be working on misconduct next<3

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #reader insert #x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut

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chaotic-mystery · 4 days ago

Text

Hotline to Heaven | Joel Miller x reader

✧ Summary: An inquisitive man gets more than what he's used to when he pushes the wrong number on a phone sex hotline.

✧ Content Warnings: MDNI ! 18+ only. dom!reader, sub!joel, pre outbreak, empty house means he's up to no good, porn connoisseur, phone sex, dirty talk ( i mean duh) mutual masturbation, swearing, orgasm denial, safeword mentioned but not used, talking him through it this time, a little aftercare, slight mention of one of my favorite movies bc I know Joel would've liked it too.

✧ Authors Note: This is my submission for @wannab-urs DMAMC 2025 that you can find the masterlist here. A goal of mine this year is to step out of my writing bubble when it comes to challenges and write things I normally wouldn't on my own. If you read my work, you know this is a roles reversed situation for me and I'm nervous to share it but also excited! Thank you, Gin, for letting me be a part of this, I love you <3 As always big ups to my twin for beta reading for me, love you, Ali.

red line divider | cover and matching dividers made by (Ali) & I |

✧ WC: 2.4K | masterlist | requests | update blog | ✧

Being a single dad was not an easy job, but Joel made it work somehow. With lots and lots of pancakes and promised sleepovers at friends houses if Sarah kept her grades up.

Another Friday night at home alone while Sarah was in the next town over, probably hopped up on soda and candy, Joel digs out his laptop from the bag on the floor and sets it up on the cherrywood coffee table. The house was quiet for the most part, the low humming of the dryer down the hallway in the laundry room.

Booting up the old computer, Joel tilts his head back on the sofa and makes sure his brown curtains are closed along with the white blinds he just put up a few weeks ago. Joel's finger moves against the worn trackpad, opening up the DVD rom to pop in the movie he rented from blockbuster on his drive home from dropping off Sarah.

Joel reads the cover while it loads to open. His favorite actress being the main character got him all excited and may have been the only reason he rented it to begin with. It definitely wasn’t because she was playing a vampire in a latex bodysuit.

About halfway through the movie and many scenes later of this character being an absolute badass, Joel could feel the growing tension in his jeans. Wanting to take care of the problem to finish the movie he'd grown invested in, he pauses it and opens up a web browser and goes to his tried and true adult website. The amount of pop up ads always annoyed him, he just wanted to find something to watch and keep it moving.

Until tonight.

A banner flashes right above the search bar filled with his previous endeavors, the colors immediately catching his eyes.

“What the hell is this?” He mutters to himself as he watches the words change.

A number pops up with tiny images of girls in the corner of the banner. Feeling adventurous, he digs out his phone from his pocket and dials the number before it changes to a new ad.

He’s met with an automated message, overly seductive and giving him the rundown of what he’s getting himself into. His finger hovers over the pound button to confirm he was consenting to this, that he was willing to continue. The line beeps a few times before a new message starts to play.

”Press one if you want to meet me, the girl next door.”

The voice changes to a new girl, “press two if you want to fix my leaky pipes.”

Another different voice, “press three if you want to punish me for not turning in my college essay.”

”Press four to meet me and my best friend, Layla.”

”Hit five if you wanna romp in the hay with me, yeehaw!”

Joel snickers at the generic attempt at a southern accent.

“Call me into your office by pressing six!”

Joel could hardly contain himself at all the options he was given, and he had three more he’d yet to hear.

“Select seven to meet me, Vixen the d-“

Before the voice finished speaking, his finger pushed a button and he wasn’t sure which one he chose. Frankly, he was excited for any of them.

Your line was ringing and it wasn’t too often it did, no one usually got past Katie and Layla.

Picking up the phone, you smile when you hear the southern drawl in his words.

“Have you been a bad boy today?” You almost whisper into the phone before he responds.

“Y-yes, I have, darlin.” His tone was a little confused, unsure of what he just answered.

You grin and sit up straighter.

“Well, good thing I’m in the mood to punish you.”

Joel’s eyes widen and he doesn’t know what to say. This wasn’t the number he meant to push. He wasn’t really the type of man to want to be told what to do.

From anyone.

“Darlin’ can you tell me which button I pushed by chance?”

He was trying to be as polite as he could and you were going to have some fun with this.

“You pushed seven and here I am; Vixen the Dom.” Smirking at the quiet line, you wonder for a split second if he hung up.

“I-I’m sorry…dom? I don’t know if this is really something I’m into. I mean, that’s great if you’re someone who can but that doesn’t sound like me.”

“I get it. You can’t let go of that control, scared to see a new side to yourself. I understand. If you want to hang up and redial I understand.”

Joel hesitates hanging up and he glides his tongue over his bottom lip.

“What exactly…would I be getting myself into with you, Vixen?”

What a curious man.

“You’d give me control, no backtalk, no resisting, you submit to me. There’s a safeword we can use at any point if it gets to be too much for you. At that point I’d stop and we can calm down, just talk. I never get mad at someone using a safe word.”

“A-and what’s the safe word?” The temptation in his voice shows you he’s interested.

“Hopscotch.”

His chuckle rings through your ear and makes your face warm, giggling at his reaction.

“So, you’ve stayed here this long and I can tell you’re curious. Are you going to let me take control of you, I didn’t get your name” You state, trying to guess before he answers.

“Joel. Names Joel. It’s a pleasure to spend the night with you tonight, Vixen.”

The respect he was giving already showed you how natural it came to him, he was this way in his day to day life.

“You’re going to be my good boy tonight, Joel?”

“Y-yes” he hesitantly responds.

“Yes, ma’am. Repeat it.” Goosebumps raise on your arms and the excitement shakes your core

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’m going to tell you what to think, what to say, I’m going to do everything I want to you until you’re begging me to let you come.” You bite your lip and smirk, your body excited for this phone call.

“I want you to close your eyes and I want you to grab your bulge and rub it, slowly for me,” You say sternly but seductively, propping your legs up so your knees are bent, freehand resting on your abdomen.

You can hear his belt jingle and some shuffling from the other end of the phone, causing you to smirk. He doesn’t get it, it’s new for him. It was painfully obvious but you decided to take it slow for his first time.

“I didn’t say to undo your belt and ditch your pants, did I? I said rub your bulge, just rub it.”

“Y-yes ma’am.” His breath was shaky from anticipation and nerves, it was cute. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into with you.

“Tell me how good it feels, baby. Tell me what you want,” you tease, your fingers dancing above your panty line.

“I wish you were here right now. Tell me to lay on my back while you get on top and ride my face until I'm begging for air. I want you to use me until you come all over my face and make me clean you up before you ride my big dick. Use me, Ms. Vixen, p-please.” Joel’s whimpers make you feel that boiling heat in your stomach before you feel your panties get wet, for a half second he takes your breath away.

“Ms.Vixen? Hm, you’re learning quickly I see. Reach in your pants and take your cock out for me, get it nice and wet. I want to hear how needy you are for me.”

You hear his belt unbuckle followed by the soft sound of him spitting into his hand, married with a groan of pleasure.

“Now, you want to be my good boy tonight, right?” You ask and dip your hand inside your panties, softly teasing yourself. This was so unlike you, normally you didn’t want to touch yourself during a call. He was different.

”You aren’t going to come until I tell you, alright? Think you can handle that, baby?”

“I can handle that, yes ma’am.”

Hearing the wet sounds from him jerking his cock off makes you grin and a moan almost slips out but you catch yourself and give a small giggle.

”It’s cute the way you fuck your hand and pretend its my pussy, big grown man just aching to be put in his place. I want to watch your face when I slip your cock inside me, baby. I’ll keep a fistful of your hair so you keep your eyes on me, let me watch you go to another planet when you realize how deep you are.”

Joel moans loudly and he can’t catch his breath as he imagines how good it would feel inside you and to be used by you.

“Y-yes please, Vixen. Ride my cock and make yourself feel good, I can be whatever you want me to be.”

You circle your clit faster as your legs tremble, your moans swirling together to sound like a beautiful harmony.

“I can ride you and wrap my hand around your throat while I put my panties in your mouth to keep you quiet, wouldn’t want anyone to hear those pretty whimpers, now would we?”

“Can-can you tell me what your panties look like, darlin’? Please.” Joel stutters out and moans just thinking about it.

Biting your lip, you hold the handset closer to your mouth as you continue fingering your soaked cunt with your other hand.

“They’re lace, black of course. With a little red bow right in front of the waistband. Sick little pervert you are. Makes my pussy so wet thinking about you trying to moan my name but I can’t understand you with them in your mouth. Even when you’re begging for more, begging to come I can’t hear you.”

Joel groans louder and all you can see in your head as your eyes are squeezed shut is how handsome he sounds Just the pretty whimpers he makes has you thinking how good looking he must be, how his dick is so slippery in his fist from all the precum and spit.

“I bet you’d lose your mind if I pinned your hands down and really took all control from you, wouldn’t you baby? You’d squirm and try to touch me but you can’t, not while I’m playing with you like a toy. You’re my toy, do you hear me? Mine. Say you’re mine while you jerk off.” Your breaths get shorter as you moan softly, finally letting him hear how turned on you are.

“I’m just your playtoy, Ms.Vixen. Onl-ly yours. I p-promise. Fuck it feels so good, shit.”

The silk sheets under your skin slide under you as you squirm, giving into him a little more with each beg he cries out. This feels like heaven and you can’t get enough of him. Part of you wanted to stop touching yourself to keep him on the phone longer, partially because you didn’t know if he’d ever call again.

“Let go of your pretty cock. Don’t touch it and listen to me.” You demand calmly and smirk when you hear him groan in annoyance.

“Is that an attitude I hear?” you ask condescendingly.

“No ma’am, no ma’am.” he quickly retorts. Good boy.

“I’ve got two fingers inside me right now but they just don’t compare to your cock I bet. You’d probably keep me up all night and let me turn you every which way but loose, hm? Think you could keep up with me, sweetheart? How about I cuff your hands to the bed and suck your cock until you can’t take it anymore and beg to paint my face with your cum.”

You can hear a slew of profanities and Joel groans almost in pain and he whines, “God dammit that’s so hot. Please let me jerk off, baby. It’s killing me not to touch myself while I think about stuffing you full of my dick. Your perfect body on mine, what a pleasure that would be. Please, may I touch myself?”

Clamping your legs closed so you don’t come yourself, you tell him to continue and soon once more your moans mix together.

“I-I need to come, Ms.Vixen. Please let me be a goodboy and come, p-please-oh fuckkk-”

“You want to come for me, baby boy? I’m going to have to think about whether you deserve it or not, sweetheart.”

“Let me show you how good you make me feel, I need you so bad. C’mon baby-oh shittt- please?”

Your breath hitches in your throat and you have this aching urge to hear him come and whimper in your ear. Hearing men be so whiny when they come was music to your ears.

“Go on then, show me the pretty sounds you make when you come, baby. Jerk that fuckin’ cock off while you think about me. Think about coming on my tits, these pretty fucking titties that would look even better with your cock between them. C’mon honey, come for me, right now. Be my favorite toy.”

That was all he needed to hear before he was groaning loudly into the phone, enough to make you cover your mouth and come with him. Couldn’t let him know how down bad he already had you.

Your ears were ringing slightly but you could still hear the shuffling from his end, probably cleaning himself up and the mess he made.

“You alright over there, big guy?” You ask, trying to calm your breathing.

“It was a lot, let’s just say I made a mess” he chuckles and sighs tiredly.

“How was that for your first time being a sub? I tried to take it slow for you.”

“That was uh, that was the best time I’ve had in a while. You really know what you’re doing, huh? I’d love to call you again, maybe your direct line next time?”

You shake your head and chuckle at him. Silly boy.

“I had a fun time tonight, Joel. Maybe if you call me again I’ll think about giving you my phone number.”

“Fair enough. Thank you, Vixen. It was a pleasure. Good night.”

“Good night, my good boy.”

The line goes silent and Joel puts his cellphone down on the couch cushion beside him, taking a deep breath as he circles back over everything he just did. Closing out of the tab and continuing his movie, he enjoyed it but Joel couldn’t stop thinking about you the rest of the night.

Even when he was in his bed trying to sleep, you consumed his brain and he needed more.

A lot more, but of course, only if you let him.

427 notes · View notes

wisecura · 1 month ago

Text

You Did What?

Kouhai Satoru Gojo x f!Senpai-Reader (age gap) 5k

an: this is apart of a request I got not too long ago for an arranged marriage with an age gap for my star bby Gojo. The second one is coming out very soon for the reversal (he's a bit older than you).

summary: Satoru Gojo was your over-the-top, unbearable, yet strangely endearing kouhai back in school. Maybe you were just a little too sweet to him, though, because now he's showing up at your door with a marriage proposal in hand.

MINORS DNI AFTER THIS POINT.

warnings: obsessive behaviors, noncon/dubcon, arranged marriage, power play, domineering subby, possessive behavior, small jealousy, implied stalking, fingering, popped cherries, he's a good boy, age gap, usage of the word 'little' (might be a lil belittling), minors DNI, not entirely heavily proofread

Life in Tokyo had been nothing short of abysmal.

Between the tiny, overpriced shoebox apartments and the always-packed streets, it wasn’t exactly the dream you'd had in mind. But hey, at least everything you needed was within walking distance.

And yeah, you were always zipping out of town for work, trying to carve out your spot in the pecking order. Just 22, rocking your first real job and your own place, but your social life?

Nonexistent.

You could whine about it, but what's the point?

Whenever you caught up with old classmates, you’d play it cool, telling them you were out living it up, just so they wouldn’t worry. Pretty sure they were spinning the same tales to you. In your line of work, there’s not much room to be anything but selfless.

You kept in touch with a few underclassmen, especially the clingiest of them all—Satoru Gojo. Normally, you wouldn’t bother, you were several classes ahead of him, after all. He only graduated last summer, turned 19 in the winter, and then took over as the head of the Gojo clan that next summer.

But ever since you graduated, he’s been all over your lock screen, bombarding you with texts. A quiet day meant only getting 12 messages. In high school, he was just as clingy, but at least back then, he could just hang around you in person instead of blowing up your phone.

You’d think he’d have outgrown this by now, but nope—by noon today, you’ve already racked up 7 messages from him. It’s kind of cute, sometimes. But let’s be real, trying to get a boyfriend with Satoru always on your tail? Yeah, good luck with that.

The rain had been pounding relentlessly all evening, its steady drumming against the windows filling your tiny Tokyo apartment with a soothing rhythm. Wrapped in a blanket on the couch, you were finally relaxing when your phone buzzed for what felt like the hundredth time tonight.

You glanced at the screen. Another text from him. And another, and another-

Gojo: What are you up to?

Gojo: You never answered my last message. Did you fall asleep?

Gojo: Or maybe you’re ignoring me...again.

Gojo: That hurts, you know. I thought we were close.

With a sigh, you set the phone face down. Satoru Gojo, your overly attached kouhai from high school, had been this way since the day you met—clingy, needy, and always too much. He had always claimed you were the only one who could "handle" him.

And sure, you had a soft spot for him, maybe more than you should. But on days like today, his relentless need for attention was just too much. The knock at your door was abrupt, loud, and insistent, snapping you out of your thoughts. You stared at the door, hesitating, then your phone buzzed once more.

Gojo: I’m outside. Open up.

With a sigh, you dragged yourself off the couch. When you swung the door open, there stood Satoru, soaked to the bone. His normally fluffy white hair was slicked to his forehead, and water dripped from his clothes onto your floor.

“Satoru,” you exclaimed, startled. “What the hell are you doing? Why are you soaked?”

He waved a hand dismissively, stepping inside without waiting for an invite. You blinked at him. You should’ve expect this, but honestly he'd never been this forward.

“You’re soaked! You're gonna catch a cold, you idiot.”

“Would you take care of me if I did?” he asked with a grin, but his voice somewhat off, was missing its usual upbeat playfulness. He took the towel you handed him but made no move to dry himself off, seemingly content to let you fret over him.

As you scanned him for any signs of injury, he watched you with an intensity that said he might just enjoy this concern a bit too much. Maybe he was hurt? But knowing him, that seemed unlikely—

“Seriously, Satoru, what are you doing here?” crossing your arms.

He flopped onto your couch as if he owned the place, his damp clothes leaving a wet spot. "Just wanted to see you," he said, his gaze flitting to yours before darting away.

“You’ve been texting me all day. You could’ve just waited for me to reply.”

He pouted, leaning back with a dramatic sigh. “You’re so mean to me. Do you really think I'm that annoying?”

You rolled your eyes. “You can be.”

"Rude," giving you a mock-offended look. Then, after a pause, "You've been busy, though...haven't you? Out a lot lately."

You froze, your mind racing to last week. Have you been out a lot? But then you remembered a few days back, when you’d gone on a casual date with someone. It hadn’t been anything serious, but you definitely hadn’t mentioned it to Satoru. Given his flair for the dramatic, he’d likely make a big deal out of it. How did he know you'd been out?

"Work," you said cautiously, watching his expression carefully. “Work,” he echoed, tilting his head as if considering your answer. “That’s it? No fun? No...extracurricular activities?”

“Extracurricular activities?”

“You know,” his tone light but his eyes pinning you, somewhat pouty. “Going out. Meeting people. Spending time with a special someone.”

Your stomach churned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He hummed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his damp hair falling into his eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, senpai. You always have been.”

“I’m not lying,” you said firmly, feeling your palms clam up.

“Really?” He grinned, but there was no humor in it. “Then why is it that I heard you’ve been seeing someone?” Your heart skipped a beat. “Who told you that?”

“It doesn’t matter, is it true?” You hesitated for a moment too long. “It is, isn’t it?” his voice dropping.

“It’s not a big deal,” you said quickly, not sure why you felt the need to explain yourself. “It was just one date. Nothing happened.”

“Nothing happened? So you went out with someone and didn’t think to tell me?”

“Why would I tell you?”

“Because I care about you,” he said, rising abruptly. “Because I thought we were close.”

“We are, but that doesn’t mean I owe you every detail of my personal life,” you shot back. He took a step closer, his damp shoes squeaking against the floor. “It’s not about owing me. It’s about the fact that you’re mine.”

Your eyes widened, stunned those words even fell out of his mouth. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” his voice was trembling now—nervousness? borderline hysteria? Those possessive words had never spilled from his plush lips before, so you were left grappling with their sudden weight. “I’ve always been yours, senpai. And you’ve always been mine. We're best friends. We're the closest. I don’t care what you think. I don’t care what anyone else says. You’re mine.”

“Satoru, you’re being ridiculous,” you said, trying to step back, but he matched your movement, closing the distance.

“Am I?” he asked, his blue eyes wide and desperate. “You have no idea what it’s like. Having your best friend ignore you. Watching you go out with someone else. It’s killing me.”

Watching? “Satoru, you’re not thinking clearly—”

“I’ve never been more clear,”

“Satoru.” Your mind raced, and you felt the need to put some distance between the two of you. Despite his obvious advantages in strength and size, he'd never given you reason to feel wary—until now. It felt like a mistake letting him into your home. “I...I think you should leave. We need some space, Satoru.” You couldn’t help but fold into yourself, the weight of the conversation draining you.

He paused, the room swallowed in a heavy silence. No words. No breaths. No footsteps. When you dared to look up, his face was crumpled, on the verge of tears. Surprising you even more.

"You’re...telling me to leave?" His voice came out softer than before, soothing yet tinged with desperation. "Why?"

Before you could muster an answer, he dropped to his knees in front of you, crawling closer as you backed up until you were pressed against the wall. He starred up at you, an urgency you've never seen from him before, pressing in on you. His hands gripped your waist tightly, his eyes—wide and pleading like a lost kicked puppy—locked onto yours.

"Please," he whispered, his gaze swimming with tears. tears. "Don’t make me leave. Don’t let someone else take you away from me. I’ll do anything. Just let me stay. Don't push me away."

"Satoru, get up," you said, your voice quivering, fingers trembling as you tried to push him away by pressing on his head. Yet, no matter how much you pushed, his hold remained firm, his strength undeniable. He was soaking the front of your clothes, and it felt very much like an overgrown puppy, coming in from outside.

"No," he murmured, burying his face against your stomach. "Not until you promise. Not until you say I can stay. Until you promise not to go out with anyone else."

“This is insane,” you managed, your hands unintentionally tangling in his soft, albeit wet hair. It was softer than you imagined. Focus—

He suddenly pulled you down with him, his grip unrelenting as you found yourself sinking to your knees in front of him. Now, he was so close, his face just inches from yours, towering over you, his expression a tangled web of desperation and a darker, unspoken plea. Your back was flush against the wall and you weren't sure what he was planning next.

"If you leave me," he said softly, his voice trembling, eyes wild and somewhat dazed. You weren't sure how space equated to you leaving him. You could see him frantically trying to piece the situation back together, the stakes seeming far more catastrophic than the words tumbling from his lips. "I'll make sure you regret it..." His confidence seemed to swell as he caught your wide-eyed stare, "You know I can-You know what I'm capable of."

Your blood ran cold. “Satoru...” a warning

"I don’t want to hurt you," he continued, tears now streaming down his face. He looked pathetic, begging there on his knees, letting out small hiccups with each terrifying sentence after the other. "But I can’t lose you. I can’t share you. Please, senpai. Just say yes. Tell me you won’t shut me out."

"Satoru, this is too much. You're overreacting. I just need some space—"

"Marry me." His eyes lost their frantic sheen, sharpening as they fixed on yours. His tone was firm, non-negotiable. "I’ll make you happy. I’ll give you everything.”

The rain outside roared, its sound blending with the rapid pounding of your heart. His request blindsided you, his words enveloping you, a suffocating, inescapable grip. He couldn't be serious. You two weren't even dating.

"Satoru, we aren't even dati—"

"That doesn't matter. I've always loved you. Even way back then. You've always been the only one on my mind." You gaped at him, stunned by the raw intensity of emotion from someone usually so untouchable. "I-I cant imagine being with anyone else, I need you." He whimpered, pushing into you like the overgrown puppy he was, overly excited to see their master. His head rested against your chest, looking up at you with a pout.

"I've been so good. I've waited so long. I-if anything, I deserve some praise." His words stumbled out, and there it was—the mighty Satoru Gojo, stuttering. He waited for a response, your mouth hanging open at the sheer audacity of this man. The whiplash hitting you quicker than the words. He looked so pitiful.

"P-please, please praise me," he said, a little more desperately, anxious under your flabbergasted stare.

You were definitely outmatched here. You've always had a soft spot for the blue-eyed sorcerer. It was one of the many reasons you gave him as much leeway as you did. As your hand gently came up to his hair, petting him, he practically purred under the touch, his eyes melting with affection. "I knew it."

"Satoru..." you began softly, and as if he could read your mind, knowing you were about to protest, he interrupted. "I'll do whatever you want. Be whoever you want."—"Sato—" "I'll buy you anything, we can go anywhere, live anywhere. I can support you, you won’t need to stay in this shitty apartment anymore—" "Wait a—" "I love you. I love you so much, I couldn’t stand that man touching you, please don’t ever do that again," his face twisted in pain at the mere thought. Your hands reached for his cheeks, gently coaxing his gaze back to you.

"Satoru, calm down." you tried to reason, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I'm not sure if jumping into a marriage is the best idea right now. We need to talk about this more," you insisted, trying to temper the urgency in his eyes. "A marriage isn't just a contract—it's a lifetime commitment. I'm not sure if we're ready for that yet. You haven't even asked me out yet-"

But Satoru was relentless, his desperation clear. "I've already drafted the papers," he confessed, his tone suggesting he’d been planning this for some time. "I can send a formal request to the higher-ups—whenever I want."

The threat remained unspoken yet unmistakable—a solid recommendation from him, the new head of the Gojo clan—in need of an heir, would be near impossible to refuse without severe consequences. The reality of your situation weighed heavily on you. It was as if it was already decided. But why you?

"Satoru, listen to me," you pleaded, searching for some sign of understanding in his intense gaze. "What do you think this marriage would be? What do you even want from this?"

"You," he answered quickly, eagerness palpable. "Ill give you a life where you don't have to worry about money or security. I can give you a house, anywhere you want. Paris, New York, Tokyo—you name it." he's hugging you tighter at each insistence. "Satoru—"

"Luxuries, travel, whatever you want—designer clothes, fancy cars... I'm going to spoil you rotten," he whispered, his voice dripping with certainty, as if it were all already fated to be, the only concern being what next. "And it's not just about the material things—I mean, I'll be there too. Always. Anytime you call, I'll be there."

"You can't do that, Satoru," you countered, feeling the walls closing in as he all but confirmed he would shirk his very important responsibilities if you so asked.

"I will, if its for you. Please, baby. please." You can't deny the way your heart picked up at the unfamiliar pet name. It sent your heart racing, and your cheeks flushed—a reaction he caught and savored, his eyes lighting up, his head tilted, giving him a perfect view of your pretty red cheeks. His grip on you seemed to trail, his hands rubbing your sides.

"You're really serious about this, aren't you?" you questioned, your voice tinged with both disbelief and a creeping unease as Satoru nudged closer.

"Absolutely...my little wife," he murmured, his voice quivering with a concocted vulnerability as he slipped between your legs, still soaking wet. His presence was close, too close, his body heat mingling uncomfortably with yours. Your heart stutter again at the term.

"Satoru, that’s...that’s too much," you breathed out, feeling his hands settle on your hips, his grip firm yet gentle, as if claiming his place. He's pulling you impossibly closer, his hips between your own. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't turning you on, much to your own surprise. He was shocking you at every turn.

"Isn’t it better when it’s just the two of us?" he continued, his voice a needy whisper that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand. He leaned in, his breath warm against your neck, lips brushing your skin with feather-like kisses that trailed up towards your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "No distractions, no one else around. Just me and...my sweet little wife."

His words were laden with possessive desire as he continued his trail of soft kisses, now accompanied by long wet licks that striped across your neck. Your arms found their way around his muscular neck, and your legs instinctively clenched at his sides. His words making you dizzy.

"Y-you think you can make decisions for both of us like that?" you attempted to steady your voice, but it wavered under his touch and the tender assault of his lips.

"’m just trying to secure our happiness together," he insisted, his voice a whisper against your skin, full of confidence—yet pleading. "I know you care about me, deep down. You wouldn’t want to see me hurt, would you, wife?"

Those big eyes begging for your approval, especially when he sensed you might push back. A lovesick puppy.

"Satoru, listen—we really need to talk about boundaries," you insisted, trying to anchor the conversation despite the intoxicating closeness and the persuasive touch of his lips, which fluttered dangerously along the sensitive skin of your neck.

"Boundaries," he repeated, his voice a soft whimper, contemplative, as if he was trying to wrap his mind around the concept. His breath was warm against your skin, his lips pausing as if savoring the very idea. "Okay, we can talk boundaries...as long as they include me being this close." His tone deepened, desperately straining as he pressed closer, grinding into your achy cunt. The soft groan that slipped from him vibrated against your neck, coaxing a surprised whimper from your lips—a sound sweeter than he had ever imagined.

His eyes locked onto yours, reveling in every reaction he elicited from you. Though you weren't married yet, your body seemed to resonate perfectly with his touch, as if it knew him well. The marriage contract had been prepared long in advance, drafted the moment he graduated high school. He had always known you were the one for him. You were, in his eyes, made for him.

He didn't ease up, grinding his length into your clothed pussy, clawing out any reactions he could get, and feeding you his own. And lord was this man vocal.

You wouldn't have believed it if anyone told you—Satoru Gojo, revered as the strongest sorcerer of his generation, the prestigious heir to the Gojo clan, and the youngest prodigy to grace the hallways of Jujutsu Tech, reduced to a puddle of neediness. The type of man that screams top energy, is now rutting against you faster now—helplessly, a begging mess, calling you his "little wife" in a breathy, lovesick plea, so so desperate and clingy.

But you couldn't say anything about it, your leaky pussy was proof enough that you were no better. And the fact that you were so adamant that you weren't interested only moments ago only served to feed his ego.

"What boundaries did my little wife want to set?" His voice confident-damn near arrogantly possessive, as he all but solidified his hold over you, only for you to squirm under his words. He didn't seem to like that as he bit down on your collarbone, earning a sharp gasp from your panting lips.

Before you could wrap your head around the question, he pushed your legs up to your chest, thick fingers digging into the squish of your thighs, instantly knocking the air from your lungs. A mean mating press, and all he needed now was to fuck into you like he meant it. "Satoru—ha—hang on."

But oh-no he wasn't about to hang on, his hips delivered another punishing thrust in between your spread legs, leaving you stuttering out. Your hands that had been wrapped around his neck were now biting into the unfairly smooth expanse of his broad shoulders, leaving behind marks that would surely leave people staring.

Leaning close, his breath hot against your ear, he whispered, a shiver tracing down your spine, crunched up beneath him, "What was my little wife so worried about?" Your eyes proved to him that you were already gone, smothered by his thrusts, and if he were to remove your shorts, you were sure you'd be leaking a pool onto the floor. He cooed softly, his voice a mix of teasing and assurance, "I'll be a good boy. Now tell me, haah—what boundaries did you want to set?"

Beneath him, you trembled, each of your senses heightened by his proximity and the sheer intensity of his gaze, which now swept over you, taking in every reaction before meeting your eyes with a piercing look. "C'mon, pretty girl, tell me, tellme. tellme—" he urged, punctuating each plea with another deep thrust against your clothed cunt.

“Satoru—please—” you managed between labored breaths, each word as shaky as your body.

“Ooh! Hang on—I've got one—" You could feel his breath on your neck, voice dipping a more taunting note. "how about remaining faithful," His grip on you was aggressive and domineering, yet his tone carried a playful lilt. "See, now that's an easy one," You couldn't stop the whimper that rolled from your lips, each thrust forward sent a sharp press into your clit.

You couldn't make a solid thought if your life depended on it. The room spun a little, your mind foggy with need. You felt dangerously close to agreeing to just about anything he proposed, just to keep him moving.

"S-Satoru, please, don't stop," shameless. absolutely shameless.

“Haah, oh—my sweet little wife—‘m just trying to have a conversation—” He groaned as your nails dug deeper into his shoulders, a raw, primal groan rips out, sending shivers down your spine. “Aah, a conversation you wanted. So tell me what I can do for you.”

You can't move an inch as he slows his momentum down, leaving you reeling. You're panicking at the loss, eyes shooting wide as he firmly presses into you. "Or maybe," You felt the heat of his cock pressed against you, "how about a boundary that ensures every day starts with you under me like this?" Satoru's voice was husky, almost choked with his own arousal as he maintained that exasperatingly slow grind, each movement calculated to keep you right on the edge.

You couldn't muster a response, your mind was too clouded with the intoxicating blend of pleasure and frustration, gripping at him to keep going. His smirk was audible in his voice as he continued. "Hmm, not enough? What about...we never sleep apart, huh? Always tangled up like this—sounds perfect, right, wifey? Or do you prefer senpai?"

You felt yourself clench around nothing as you let out a string of needy huffs, eyes drunken, intoxicated on his heat. "And I think," he paused, his breath against your ear, "we should always say goodnight like this...no...we should always say goodnight with me deep inside this pretty pussy, claiming you as mine over and over. No more goodnights through phone screens, just this—"

One hand trails down between your legs, drifting across your sorely sensitive skin, before reaching the warmth beneath your shorts. You feel yourself buck up, but his grip on your other thigh has you restrained. He glides his large fingers along the edges, before dipping into under the fabric, finding his salvation, immediately. "Ahh-shit, you're soaked, baby," His voice was dense with pleasure, a hint of awe, a mix of wonder and satisfaction.

"Do these boundaries work for you?" he teased, fully aware that you were beyond the point of coherent speech, your responses physical, instinctive—your body arching towards him, desperately seeking to close the gap he controlled so teasingly.

His laughter, low and satisfied, resonated through the charged air between you, feeling as tangible as another stroke of his fingers. "I’ll take that as a yes," he murmured before finally relenting to the desperate pace your body craved, driving his fingers into you with a fervor that wiped all thoughts but his name from your mind.

Stretching, and so so thick, yet you so desperately craved for his fingers to curl into your sweet spot, your mewls and moans saturating the air, the debauched sounds from your leaky cunt dragging his eyes to watch as your juices coated his hand.

His eyes were locked on your squirming, messy form. Noticing every movement, learning and adapting his thrust to the motions that drew the most from you. Once he hit that sweet spot, you were out.

To him—this was a dream. A fantasy he'd always had, way back when he first met you.

Now you were soaking your shorts, so he did what any good husband would do and took them off of you. He marveled at the sight of your pretty cunt, glistening, slick pooling from you at a rapid pace. Calling to him. You looked so fucking tasty.

But he wanted more. So much more.

He wanted to fill his pretty little wife, full. Withdrawing his fingers (earning him a small growl from you), he pressed his hips forward, the fabric of his clothes barely containing him as he rubbed against you, his need clear and urgent. His fingers, dipping into his mouth, your taste dissolving onto his tongue, he moaned—"Baby, can I fill you up?" begging, voice guttural, raw, groveling, as he pulled himself free from the confines of his pants, stroking himself with a single hand. You strained to look at him, your legs blocking your view, but when you caught sight of it you nearly drooled. His plea was nothing short of a godsend at this moment, everything you were wanting and more, and that cock looked more than fucking delicious. Big and thick enough to rock your shit.

"Please, please I want more,—ngh—'

He lined himself up at your entrance, poking his fat tip an inch past your slit. The stretch was already a bit much, you really hadn't gotten much action, recently. Toys never cut it.

And just that tip had Satoru's mouth dropping open as he slid himself further, watching the magic act that was his disappearing cock into your tight heat. You deliriously blubbered incomprehensible sounds, begging to be filled, but he seemed so happy with taking his sweet time, savoring every second—every inch.

Once you were completely filled, he stilled for a moment, wearing you like a little cockwarmer, the stretch made you feral as you continue clawing his forearms, pathetically, words dripping from your lips frantically asking bawling at him to go faster.

"Ah, you take me so well." He hissed out, starring down at you with an almost obsessive gaze. "Gimme a second, baby, I needa minute, shit-s'feels sooooo good." He slouches into you, body shaky.

Your breathing is unsteady as he presses into the back of your cervix, poking through your belly. "Ah y'know, you're my first baby, saved myself all for you. All for this moment—" His words slewed together in a stupor, bucking slightly into you. Your eyes widen as you're about to comment, but he stops you with one quick ram of his hips, your head lolling back, mouth dangling open. The dude's fucking huge, hot as all hell, and you're the one who popped his cherry?

You feed into each other as he picks up his pace, clinging to you like a second skin, hips ramming into you with a speed that seemed unreal. Each thrust splitting you open like the very first, you just couldn't get used to him. He moans loudly into your ear, breathing becoming more and more labored as he reaches down to play with your clit.

"A-Ah shit—fuck, I'm gonna cum," his voice frustrated, wanting to last all night with you, but your tight cunt deemed otherwise. His fingers dug deeper into your skin, large welts already forming, "shit-shit, aah fuuuuckk-" spilling his load deep inside your womb, head pulled back, blissed out, twitching into you.

You can't help the way your mind stills, he pumped you full—theres so much, that his gooey cum spills out around the edges, trailing down between your crack, "aah shit baby." He seemed embarrassed, a flushed look on his face as he looked away and back shyly.

He thrust back in, his eyes locked on the way his cum oozed out around him, letting out his own whine. Your breathing stutters when he pushed back inside, your abused cervix aching. You hadn't cum, but damn were you close, and damn if you weren't sore. He rubs your nub again, feeling you clench around him, letting out a hiss, clearly overstimulated.

"You're losin' so much, wifey, how're you ever gonna be full when you're so wasteful," his eyes never leave your cunt, as he swirls his thumb over your clit, as you're left clawing to get away from him, the obsessed focus on your clit just too much. But you're still pinned. And he's still not done yet.

"S'ok baby, 'll give you more, yea?" He's mumbling the words, lost in the meal spread out in front of him. "Want you to cum all over my cock this time. Think you can do that for me?" He doesn't wait for a response as he's hardening up once again, and you think his stamina is fucking impeccable. His own words, nasty for a beginner, but only serving to egg him on.

Once again he's picking back the brutal pace, his cum mixing with the thin pool of your syrupy slick, the loud squelches back in full force. He's lost again, his head buried in your neck now, leaving large dark purple hickies, a hand clenching that back of your neck, devouring you like a fucking rotisserie chicken. You do him one better, your claws sinking deep into his back, each thrust blanking your mind as his fingers continue at your clit.

He angles his dick upwards—just slightly, grazing that upper spot that has you seeing stars, you're pants come out frantic now, pussy clamping, so so close to release. "Cum for me baby? Gonna coat this cock? Mark me up, baby—mark up your husband—" His words have you finishing, an electric current zapping through you, leaving you lit like a live wire. His fingers are punishing, a reminder of his words, his words a reminder of your place in his life, and you find yourself over-satiated.

Squirming to get him to stop, then begging when it he ignored it. Your pleas fell on deaf ears, his thrusts seeking his second release into your tight little pussy, your little begs only speeding him up as he let out another guttural moan, teeth sinking into the crook of your neck, no doubt breaking skin. His cum, hot, burning—as you gushed around him, your pussy pulsating at every movement. His heaving never let up as he kept himself buried deep inside of you.

"Fuck, I love you so much."

come home

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punkshort · 3 months ago

Text

Seasons Change

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Miserable and lonely after Chucho drags him to the farmers' market in town, Javier's day turns around when he runs into you asking for his help.

Warnings: Javi being a little depressed/down on himself, fluff, meet-cute, tiny bit of possessiveness, flirting

WC: 3.2K

For @jolapeno & @goodwithcheese's fall challenge: I picked Javi P + Farmers' Market 🍂

thank you @saradika-graphics for the dividers ❤️

Javier stared out the passenger window of his father's old truck, sulking in his seat with his arms crossed. The changing leaves blurred by on the side of the road: deep reds, bright yellows and oranges, and the occasional stubborn green. Fall was certainly in the air, so much so that he had to pull on his red checkered flannel before Chucho practically dragged him out the door, muttering to him in Spanish about how he never leaves the ranch and getting a change of scenery would be good for him.

But Javier didn't like to leave the ranch. He didn't like the looks he got, the whispers he heard, and especially hated when some stranger insisted on stopping him with a firm handshake to express how proud they were of him.

He always had to bite his tongue. He politely nodded and smiled, but inevitably the ride home was always filled with distressing images of innocents caught in the crossfire, or the shady deals he felt he had to make with the wrong sort of people just to get a lead. Every time he shook one of their hands, more blood transferred to his own palm, and now he felt like he could never get them clean.

But he couldn't explain all that to his father, although Chucho likely had some inkling. He must have noticed the change in him, the shift, when he returned home. When he asked his son why he didn't want to buy a place of his own, why he didn't want privacy, Javier replied it's easier, don't have to wake up so early and drive over to help.

But Chucho wasn't stupid. He knew Javier had nightmares, he saw the clouds in his eyes the following mornings, could practically see the weight pulling his son down around his neck.

Javier didn't want to be alone, but he was too proud to say it.

"Quit pouting. Maybe you'll meet someone," he offered from the driver's seat. Javi scoffed and shook his head.

"What? You're a catch, m'hijo."

"It's not that, Pop," Javi said, although a big part of him was beginning to wonder if he really did have anything to offer a woman anymore. "I know everyone in this town. There's no one here for me."

"You don't know that," his father replied sternly. "The farmers' market brings in customers from all over. You could meet the love of your life today."

Javi tilted his head and gave Chucho an incredulous look.

"You gettin' sick of me, Pop?"

His father laughed heartily and shook his head as he turned into the parking lot.

"You know I love having you around, Javi. Just wish you'd have a reason to smile more."

Chucho abandoned him ten minutes into arriving, claiming he wanted to check in with a couple friends from neighboring farms, and encouraged his son to wander around to see if anything interesting caught his eye.

Javi was beginning to think his presence at the ranch wasn't as necessary as he thought. When he left Colombia, he had expected to arrive home to a mess, but the ranch was in surprisingly good shape. Not only that, but his father was busy. He had to give his dad credit - he had a lot of friends and a hell of a lot more night and weekend plans than himself. Chucho was even casually seeing a woman he met at the pharmacy two months ago.

Javier was wallowing in self-pity when he heard a man and woman's voices a few feet away discussing which cheeses they should buy that would best complement the crackers they had waiting for them at home.

He glanced up and saw the man and woman holding hands and gazing at one another like they were madly in love. Something sharp twisted in his chest at the display, so he tore his eyes away to focus on a package of bread he held in his hands, doing his best to ignore that familiar twitch in his fingers, the one that wanted to lead his hand to his shirt pocket for a pack of cigarettes that wasn't there.

"Hey, buddy, excuse us," the man's voice said, cutting through Javier's fog. His eyes snapped up and after a moment of confusion, realized he was in the happy couple's way. He dropped the bread and stepped back with a tight smile, then shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and turned away.

It took all of thirty seconds to realize he was completely surrounded by happy couples picking out flowers, fresh produce, and unique trinkets sold by locals. He normally wouldn't care. His focus lately had been entirely fixed on his father and the ranch, surprising even himself that women were the furthest thing from his mind. But something Chucho said that morning must have gotten under his skin because on that particular day, he felt lonely. Out of place. Tainted.

He saw a few people doing a double take as they passed by, no doubt recognizing him and whispering to their partner about his exploits. And just like that, it all felt like too much. The sun was too bright, the scent of apples and cinnamon was too heavy, the laughter was too loud.

He didn't belong there.

Javier swiveled around on his heel, deciding in that moment he would rather wait by his father's truck for an hour than subject himself to... whatever was happening to him. He managed to take one step when a pair of arms wrapped around his bicep, surprising him when he looked down to find a pair of bright beautiful eyes staring back up at him.

"I need your help," you whispered, fingers digging urgently into his arm. Immediately, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he scanned the crowd for danger. When you realized that you sounded a little alarmist, you quickly corrected yourself.

"Not like that. My ex is standing right behind you and I need you to play along because-"

You didn't get to finish your sentence and Javi hardly had a chance to process what you just said because the next thing he knew, your eyes flickered over his shoulder and you plastered a fake smile across your face.

"Charlie, hi!" you gushed, clinging to Javi's arm.

"Hey," a shorter man with light brown hair replied slowly, followed by your name. Javier repeated your name over and over in his head while Charlie's eyes bounced between the two of you, the gears churning. Even Javi could see the look of disappointment slide across his face.

"I've been thinking about you, wondering if you changed your number, but..." Charlie trailed off weakly. Then, for some reason, Javier stood up a little straighter when a flash of annoyance shot through him. Who the hell did this guy think he was? For all Charlie knew, you were in a loving and committed relationship with him. How dare he admit to trying to contact you with your boyfriend standing right there?

"Javier," he suddenly said, deepening his voice and stretching out an arm while simultaneously giving Charlie a stern look that said back off.

"Sorry!" you exclaimed from his side. "Charlie, this is my boyfriend, Javier."

Javi puffed up his chest and shook the man's hand a little harder than he usually would, secretly enjoying the look of discomfort on his face.

"Hey, man, nice to meet you," he replied, then Javi saw it. The flash in his eyes, the double take, the familiar look of someone trying to place who he was.

Javier cleared his throat and slid his arm out of your grasp, only to drape it protectively around your shoulders instead. Much to his delight, you leaned into his side and rested your hand on his chest, your touch making his heart unexpectedly flutter.

"Is there something wrong?" you asked Charlie innocently while batting your lashes. Slowly, your ex shook his head and forced an awkward smile.

"No, just... just happy to see you. Glad you're doing well."

"We're great," you replied. Javi's lips twitched and he had to look away. For just a moment, he wasn't the pathetic single guy at the Farmers' Market. For those few minutes, he was yours.

"Alright, well, I'll see you around I guess," Charlie said as he took a single step backwards. His eyes slid to Javi and he added, "Nice to meet you."

"Take care," he called after Charlie, his arm remaining around your shoulders until he slinked back into the crowd. You let out a huge sigh of relief and stepped out from under his hold, Javi's side instantly feeling cooler from the lack of contact.

"Thank you so much," you said, gazing up at him while you readjusted the bag over your shoulder. "You're, like, the only other person here without someone so I figured you were a safe bet, I hope you don't mind."

Javi smiled. So he wasn't the only one who noticed all the adoring couples. "Not at all. Is he bothering you? I know some guys down at the station-"

"No! Oh, god, no, nothing like that," you exclaimed with a giggle. "He's harmless, he just can't accept it's over, you know?"

"Yeah," he replied, but he didn't know. Not really. Not when he filled the past several years of his life with quick trysts.

You quirked an eyebrow at him, scanning his face for something, and then he felt that familiar churning in his stomach begin. You were about to connect the dots, about to recognize him for who he really was, so he dropped his gaze to the ground. But then your next question took him by surprise.

"How do you know people at the station? Are you a cop?"

He dragged his eyes up to meet yours again, searching for any sign that you were messing with him, but he found none. Just genuine curiosity.

"No," he replied, then awkwardly cleared his throat and shifted his weight. "Well, I used to be, but not here. I work on a ranch now with my Pops."

"Oh, that sounds nice. How kind of you to help out your dad," you said with a sweet smile that held him in a trance for a moment.

"Uh, y-yeah," Javi stammered before tearing his gaze away. "Seems like he doesn't need me as much as I thought, though."

You laughed again, the sound like music to his ears.

"I'm sure that's not true. I bet you're very helpful. You helped me today, so, there's that," you reminded him, leaning forward a little bit and biting your lip playfully. Were you flirting with him?

"That was nothing," Javi replied sheepishly. His mind began to race, trying to desperately think of ideas to keep you around before it became clear his usefulness had come to an end. Then, to his delight, you came up with an answer all by yourself.

"Well, do you mind continuing to help me? Because I wanted to buy some pumpkins and a hay bale for my front porch -"

"Yes," he responded almost immediately. The eagerness in his voice made you both blush and you reached out for his hand.

"My hero."

He grinned and let his fingers lace together with yours, your warmth spreading to his palm as you walked hand in hand through the market. Javi couldn't stop smiling. He was still surrounded by couples, all the smiling and happy faces, but now he didn't feel so out of place. Now he blended right in with everyone else because he had you by his side, leading him around to different vendors to show him something you found interesting or strange. And in those ten short minutes, he realized he wanted to hear it all. He wanted to know why you wrinkled your nose when you passed by some eggplants, or smiled fondly when you saw some colorful homemade crafts.

You suggested getting some hot chocolate and finding a spot to sit down, something he felt foolish for not thinking of first, but at least he had the good sense to insist on buying while he waved you off to find an empty bench.

"So, Javier," you began, saying his name in a way that made warmth bloom in his chest. "You said you used to be a cop and now you work on a ranch. Is there a story there or were you just looking to shake things up?"

He squinted at you over his hot chocolate, like he was trying to figure out if it was possible you really didn't know who he was. But you just kept looking at him so sweetly, your fingers curled around the paper cup, your lips blowing air over the liquid to cool it down, giving absolutely no indication you were being dishonest.

"Do you really not know who I am?" he blurted out. Your eyebrows shot up and you cocked your head to the side.

"Should I?"

Javi smirked and leaned back on the bench in disbelief.

"No. Well, not necessarily. Guess I'm just used to it."

"Used to... people recognizing you?" you asked. He nodded and figured now he was in too deep, so he told you. He told you about Escobar and the Cali Cartel while leaving out a few of the sensitive details, details that still haunted him at night. He didn't tell you why he wasn't a hero, he didn't tell you about Los Pepes. He didn't tell you how all the pain and lives lost made hardly any difference.

He didn't tell you he felt like a complete failure every time he saw those damn boats cruise by the ranch.

"Oh," you finally murmured when he stopped talking. He chewed anxiously on his lower lip, waiting for your reaction. But after you took a moment to absorb what he said, you brightened up and shrugged.

"I'm so glad you're working on a ranch, now. It sounds much safer."

He slowly nodded in agreement.

"Except when the cows get hungry, they get a little pushy."

You giggled and a wide smile stretched across his face.

"Jav! There you are," Chucho's voice called from a few feet away, putting a quick end to both your laughter. His heart sank when he realized his time with you was about to end.

"Pops," Javi said in greeting. You both stood from the bench to face him, ignoring the mischievous look on his father's face when he introduced you. Javi pulled nervously at his hair when he ran his fingers through the thick locks, scrambling to figure out what to say after Chucho announced he was ready to leave.

"Wait, I promised I'd help carry the pumpkins and hay-" he began, grateful that he thought of something to prolong your time together. Your eyes dropped shyly to the ground and you lowered your voice.

"I didn't actually come here to buy that stuff, I was just looking for a reason to keep talking to you."

His father coughed into his fist and hitched his thumb over his shoulder. "I'll meet you at the truck, m'hijo."

Javi nodded and he may have said something but for the life of him, he couldn't remember. His heart was thudding too loudly in his chest at your confession. You liked him. You wanted to keep him around.

"Well, uh, it was great meeting you," he said, thumb and forefinger swiping over his mustache. You smiled up at him, murmuring your agreement and thanking him again for saving you from Charlie.

Do it. Do it, you coward.

But he couldn't. His nerves got the best of him and he took a couple steps backwards.

"Maybe I'll see you around," he said, cringing at how stupid he sounded. You tried to hide the disappointed look on your face when you gave him a little wave, then turned back to the bench to collect your bag and hot chocolate.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

He shook his head at himself as he began to slowly walk in the direction of the parking lot. His hands balled up into fists at his sides, his anger and disgust with himself growing with each heavy step. He thought he knew everyone in town, thought everyone knew him. Or, at least, of him and his reputation. If it wasn't his work in Colombia, then the rest of the town would have remembered how he left Lorraine. He thought he had to hide away on the ranch to avoid the attention and scrutiny, and he was content enough to do that. But now? The thought of going back home to his quiet little life, knowing he would spend countless days wondering about you made him suddenly stop dead in his tracks and spin around.

He spotted you walking in the opposite direction, your off-white tote back draped over your shoulder, about to disappear into the crowd. Panic clawed at his throat and he broke out into a jog, calling your name as he made his way closer and ignoring the looks he got from strangers as he went.

When you heard him, you immediately swiveled around and broke out into a smile, looking just as relieved as he felt.

"Hey," he said, slightly short of breath when he slowed his pace to a stop in front of you.

"Hi," you replied, gazing up at him with those beautiful eyes he would dream about later instead of the nightmares that usually plagued him.

"I meant to - can I get your number? I'd like to take you out sometime, if you-"

"Yes!" you cried out excitedly, making both of you laugh. He handed you his phone, then wiped his sweaty palms over the backs of his jeans and watched while you entered your number. You handed the device back to him with a dazzling smile and he felt his nerves start to settle.

"I'll call you," he promised, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

"You better, Javier," you teased with a poke to his shoulder.

It might have been the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at him or the sweet way you said his name, but before he had a chance to overthink it, he leaned down and pressed his lips lightly against yours. He felt you melt into him once the shock wore off, and his lips curved into a smile before pulling away.

"You taste like chocolate," he said softly, mouth still hovering over yours, and you giggled when you swiped the pad of your thumb over his lower lip.

"So do you."

He grinned and forced his feet to move, walking backwards a few steps so he could continue to smile at you like a fool until he finally had to turn around before he ran into someone, but not before shooting you a quick wink just to hear you laugh one more time.

As he walked through the farmers' market, already dreading all the questions Chucho would be firing his way the entire ride home, he looked around at the happy couples in a completely different light. His stomach no longer churned and his chest no longer ached when he saw them kiss or laugh, because with any luck, he might just find himself in their shoes soon enough.

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#javier pena fluff #javier pena fic #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #narcos fanfiction #jolabrew + withcheese #coffee house fall challenge

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xhoneygirlxx · 1 year ago

Text

Juicy

Eddie Munson x big boob fem!reader

summary: the heat causes you to let the girls hang free and it causes Eddie to be a flustered mess

warnings: she/her pronouns used, reader has breasts and wears feminine clothing. skin color/ethnicity is not mentioned! Eddie being a flustered cutie. idiots in love :) mentions of high school jocks being gross. 18+ MINORS DNI. smut: heavy making out, grinding, titty sucking, premature ejaculation. mentions of titty fucking and cumming on tits. shitty writing and not proofread.

a/n: hello my honey buns!! i wanted to get something out while i work on some of my current wips. i got inspired to write this bc i have a tig bitties and every time i wear a bra i feel like i'm dying and i'm too insecure to not wear one lmao. also, i just wanted to say that all different shapes and sizes of bitties are beautiful!!! also please be kind! smut is not my strong suit.

The late August heat made living in Hawkins unbearable. That might be an over exaggeration since you've never traveled anywhere outside of your town, but it still felt like the underside of satan's ballsack.

You regret agreeing to hangout with Eddie the minute you saw the afternoon weather forecast and regret it even more when you got into the metalhead's van. With no working a/c in the vehicle, there was no choice but to have the window's down to get some sort of circulation.

It wouldn't be so bad if there was a breeze but the air was dry, burning your lungs with every single intake of oxygen. You could feel the sweat rolling down your spine, making the thin cotton tank top you had on stick to your skin.

The cotton shorts you had on didn't quell any heat that you were feeling, only making your thighs stick together uncomfortably. Eddie being the angel he was, had already stopped at the gas station, picking up whatever snack he thought you might want, including a cherry icee that was already melted.

The sweat the beaded at your hairline, falling down your face like raindrops, matched the sweat on your cardboard cup. Syrupy sweetness coated your tongue as you drank it, coolness going down your throat to extinguish the flames within your body.

You needed to get out his car as soon as possible and into some air conditioning. Eddie on the other hand looked as cool as a cucumber. His cut band tshirt blowing through the warm air, black jeans tight on his lower body, and his brown curls in a low bun.

You almost wanted to hate him for being so calm, never showing any discomfort when it got hot like this. God, you hated the way he looked so relaxed, puffing on his cigarette and driving with one wrist on the steering wheel. The sun shining off of his ringed fingers, the band squeezing at his tiny waist, the black ink on his alabaster skin dancing with every move he took- he was so beautiful and it was making your temperature rise even higher.

When he pulled up to his trailer, you were up and out of the van before he could even pull the keys out of ignition. To your dismay, he was taking his sweet time getting out of the car, making you wait in the blaze of the sun. If you didn't know any better, you'd think the cheeky asshole was doing it on purpose. As he rounds the car, a plastic bag dangling from his wrist, a playful smirk paints his lips.

He's definitely doing it on purpose. Asshole.

"Where's the fire, Cherry?" he jests playfully at you, making you scowl even more.

"It's going to be in your hair if you don't hurry the hell up." You yell back at him. A small laugh leaves his pretty lips, shaking his head as he pulls out his key to unlock the door.

"I'll open the door faster if you say please." You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. Playing up the part even more, Eddie takes his time putting the key into the door.

"Oh please Eddie, would you be so kind and unlock the door?" You smile sarcastically up at him. He mimics you, straight white teeth flashing brightly in your eyes.

"Now was that so hard?" Scoffing at him, you push right past his body and enter the trailer.

The small a/c unit the sits in the window works overtime, buzzing and rattling loudly, to cool down the small trailer. It feels like heaven when you walk in, the immediate temperature drop makes goosebumps rise on your skin.

Plopping down on the well loved couch, you sprawl your limbs out trying to cool every inch of your skin. Placing the bag of treats on the table, Eddie makes his way into the kitchen to retrieve a beer from the fridge.

"Is Wayne off today?" The absence of the older man only coming to your attention.

"Yeah, he went to Darla's house." Eddie mutters his response as he works the cap of the beer bottle off.

Darla was Wayne's new girlfriend he had been seeing the past couple months. You had fallen victim to many of Eddie's rants about his uncle coming home late and never calling letting his nephew know he was safe.

Humming a response, you turn your attention to the television that's currently playing reruns of The Golden Girls.

Now that you've been in the cool air for not even five minutes, the creeping heat comes back into your body. The culprit being your chest, heat radiating in the cups of your bra. It was uncomfortable already with the weight on your back and shoulders, not to mention the sweat that collected in the fabric.

Jumping up abruptly from your slouched position, you work your hands around your back preparing to take off the article of clothing. . Before you it off, you remember that you're not in your own home and that it might make Eddie uncomfortable.

As he walks in from the kitchen, sipping on his chilled beer, he catches your stare. Raising a brow and removing the bottle from his mouth, he turns to you.

"You okay over there?" He questions you, eyeing your posture and how you look like you've been caught in the act of something you shouldn't be doing.

"I need to take my bra off but I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Oh boy is he caught of guard, choking on his spit loudly. His cheeks are tinted a deep red, eyes wide and bulging from his face. Of course he didn't care, you guys were friends and he always wanted you comfortable. The only problem was that you would be braless, sitting next to him.

It's not like you haven't before, any time you wore big baggy shirts he knew you didn't have a bra on, but the extra material of your shirt blocked the visuals of your loose breasts.

When you cock an eyebrow at him, he shakes his head, brown curls bouncing with the movement.

"Y-yeah sure. Ya know what we Munson's say, this land is your land, or whatever." He chuckles nervously eyeing you from where he stands across from you.

Letting out a roaring laugh, you reach your hands under the hem of your shirt, undoing the hook.

"I'm pretty sure Woody Guthrie said that, Eds." Forcing out a small laugh, he watches as you pull the straps down your arms and then pulling the material out from under your white tank top.

Yeah he's going to die right here in the middle of his living room. When you finally pull it from your sticky skin and discard it somewhere on the floor, your nipples pebble up from the cold air. You lean your head back and release a sigh of satisfaction.

You don't see how Eddie's drinking you in right now, how he's staring at the way your nipples are visible through the wet cotton of your shirt, or how he can see the fullness of your chest.

It was no secret that you had a bigger bust than most of the girls in town, earning the nickname of Cherry from all the jocks at school, which you took pride in and eventually took ownership of.

Unlike the jocks, Eddie never made any comments about your bust. Not that he didn't think of them when he was beating off in his room every night, but he never commented on them to you which you appreciated. To him you were just you, double d's or not.

While you were in pure bliss, Eddie was living a nightmare come true. The girl he's had a crush on since middle school is braless in his home, right in front of him. He didn't know how he was going to sit next to you now with the way blood was rushing to his cock, the stiff material of his jeans didn't help his discomfort.

"So, what are we watching today?" Cracking your eyes open to look at your best friend, you could still see him standing in the same spot, staring right at your chest.

Oh. OH. He was staring at your chest. You could have so much fun with this, give him a little taste of his own medicine for his little stunt earlier, making you wait longer in the heat.

"Eds?" Your tone was sinfully sweet. Placing your arms on either side of you, you used your forearms to push your boobs together as best as you can.

"Huh? O-oh yeah. Um, we ugh, we could watch Nightmare on Elm Street." He was tripping on his tongue every other word.

Quickly moving from his spot, he knelt down in front of the television to pop in the horror movie. The boy who was so unbothered by record breaking heat, was now a sweaty, heavy breathing mess because of you.

After starting the movie, he slowly retreats to the couch but as far away from you as humanly possible. Maybe it wasn't that he was hot and bothered by you, maybe he was just uncomfortable with your state of dress.

For the first twenty minutes of the film that's all you could think, trying to figure out what you could do to make the situation better. Without thinking, you take a lollipop out of the bag of goodies he bought, popping it right into your mouth.

You took your time, swirling your tongue around the red candy, hallowing your cheeks every so often. You weren't really paying attention to what you were doing, staring straight ahead at the glowing screen. Eddie was paying attention though, growing unimaginably harder than before.

The movement of Eddie taking the pillow from behind his back and placing it right on his crotch, brings your attention the boy next to you. He wasn't as smooth as he thought, the placement of the pillow gave it away right away. His sweat soaked bangs, bouncing leg, and red cheeks definitely gave it away.

Removing the lollipop from your mouth, you place it down on the discarded wrapper laying on the table. Turning to him, your knees criss cross, you say his name softly.

His head turns with speed when you call him, chocolate brown eyes replaced with the darkness of his pupils.

"Are you okay? You don't seem, well you seem bothered. If it's me not wearing a bra, Eddie I can put it back on." You sputter out, worry rising in your stomach at the thought of making him feel awkward with your braless tits.

Releasing a loud sigh, he runs a hand down his face. "Cherry, I'm not bothered by you not wearing a bra. Well, okay, I am but I'm not uncomfortable."

He's staring right at you, almost like he's waiting for you to catch on but you don't. Eyebrows furrowed, you try to understand what he had just said to you. Before you can ask, he reiterates himself.

"Baby, I'm not bothered because you don't have a bra on. I'm very much the opposite and because I'm a gentleman, I'm trying to make myself calm down the best I can. It's just hard to do that when you're deep throating a sucker right next to me." The last part comes out as a joke, dimpled smile to prove it.

So you were right, he was hot and bothered by you. Just like he made you wait for him, you made him wait even longer to rid himself of his discomfort happening in his pants.

"Well Eds, you know if you wanted to see them all you had to say was please." You tease and he groans loudly, throwing his head back.

"Please, Cherry." He begs and you give in, lying back on the old couch. Beckoning him over to you, you spread your legs to give him room. Like a panther, he pounces on you, smacking his lips to yours.

Its heavy and animalistic the way your tongues attack each other. The lingering taste of beer mixes with the cherry from your candy. When you push your hips up to get some friction on your aching heat, he whimpers in your mouth.

He takes your motions as permission to grind into you, the pressure making both of you moan in unison. Pulling away from your mouth so you two can breathe, he moves to his next target.

The warmth of lips meet the chilled skin of your neck, he kisses all around the precious skin to find that sweet spot. When a wanton moan falls from your red stained lips, he thinks he's hit the jackpot. Sucking and kissing the spot under your ear, you're sure there will be a blotch of purple there.

You hiss out when he runs his teeth along the spot, jerking your hips up in excitement. Moving his face so that he's looking at you, you can see the spit that coat his red swollen lips, the lust the pool in his eyes. He's so pretty like this, so fucking pretty and he's all yours in this moment.

"Can I see your pretty tits, Cherry?" He asks so sweetly, like he didn't just sinfully makeout with you. Nodding in approval, he shakes his head at you.

"I need words, princess." He waits for you, who is currently looking up at him like he's hung the stars and moon. You look so fucked out and so disheveled. He's always known he was going to marry you but when he looks at you he has no doubt that he's going to marry you.

"Please, Eds."

That's all he needs to hear before he's pulling the front of your shirt down, revealing your chest to him. He stays there for a minute, looking unbashful at your tits, like they were the eight wonder of the world.

His unwavering gaze starts to make you insecure, worrying that maybe they weren't as nice as he thought they would be. They were heavy and slightly sagged due to the weight, you had stretch marks that decorated the skin like a zebra.

Pulling your arms up to cover yourself, he grips your wrists and pulls them down. Moving his gaze back up to you, his eyes are much softer.

"Don't hide, please don't hide. Not when I've waited so long to see these." A tingling sensation fills your face, making you smile giddily up at him. When you nod at him, he goes in face first into your chest.

"Fuck, I've dreamt of this for so long." You want to respond but you can't when his mouth is placing pecks to the delicate skin of your breast.

Resuming his motions from before, his hips roll right into yours like a wave crashing on the shore. He's everywhere, filling all your senses. Eddie.Eddie.Eddie. That's all that's in your mind, especially when he places your pebbled nipple in his mouth.

"Fuck, Eddie." You hiss out, reaching your hand to the nape of his neck, placing a gentle pressure to keep him there. His switches between swirling his tongue around the numb and sucking on it.

His other hand snakes up to your abandoned breast, groping the fat of it before his fingers pinch the nipple. It's sinful the way it feels, his hard cock hitting right where you need him, the warm of his mouth, and the moans that you release.

Eddie groans, causing your skin to vibrate. Removing himself from your abused breast, he moves to the other one, finally giving it the same attention as the other.

"Fuck, you're so hot." He groans out, eyes closed in ecstasy, high off the scent and taste of you. His movements start getting faster causing him to moan even louder.

Moving away from your chest, he looks down at you, the way your tits bounce with every roll of your hips. He looks at the mark he made on your neck, and how your skin shines with his saliva and your sweat. Your pupils are blown wide, lips puffy and shiny. Then he moves his eyes back to your tits, imagining what it would feel like to run his dick on your sternum, how pretty they would look coated in his pearly white cum, and how hot it would be to titty fuck you.

Every possible scenario plays out in his head when he looks at you and it's too much. With one finally grunt, pulled deep from his stomach, he hangs stops all his motions, collapsing onto of you.

Dazed and slightly confused, you let him catch his breathe. When he brings his face out from the crook of your neck, he has a boyish smile pulled on his cheeks.

"Ed, did you just-"

"Cum in my pants like a teenager? Absofuckinglutely, but if give me about five minutes I'll give you everything you want." You reach your hand up to his face, pushing some of the loose hair that fell from his ponytail, behind his hair.

"If you say please, pretty boy."

He didn't need five minutes, instantly getting hard from the sultry tone of your voice.

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