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pearlymel · 3 months ago

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The last time when...

Synopsis : you're an assassin. Your next mission? Get rid of your husband.

Warnings : Sylus × gn! reader, angst angst, death, miscommunication, blood, 1.6k wc.

Notes : if this broke your heart a lil bit, then i will make an apology letter by making a part 2 where they're all a happy family and alive 😓

When was the last time you looked at your husband and thought; how crazy must you have been to be with this as equally crazy man?

Or when was the last time he looked at you and thought; how lucky he was that you were able to tolerate him, to marry him, even.

He knew. And you thought you were able to hide your true occupation just well.

He seemed calm right in front of you while your hands were shaking.

He.. was the target?

Let's take this back to yesterday.

You were pushing your motorbike to its limits as you tore down the dark, winding roads, the sound of gunfire ringing out behind you. Bullets whizzed past you, narrowly missing their mark as you expertly maneuvered the motorcycle to avoid getting hit.

Your heart pounded in your chest as adrenaline rushed through your veins. You could hear the shouts and curses of your pursuers, their voices full of anger and frustration.

Despite the danger and the high-speed chase, you manage to keep your composure and reach for the gun holstered at your waist. With a quick and practiced motion, you whip it out and aim it behind you, training it on your pursuers.

Bullets continue to fly in your direction, but you return fire, hoping to buy yourself some time and discourage them from closing in on you.

You safely escaped, for now.

You were either going to get killed by them or by Sylus if he finds out you put yourself recklessly into danger.

Let alone burrowing his motorbike for this mission.

Stupid organisation, you mutter to yourself as you kick your boots off, the snowy weather certainly wasn't helping with your thoughts either.

You had hoped to leave your old life behind, especially after marrying Sylus. But that was a year ago, and the phone call from your old organization has shattered that illusion of peace. These assholes.

They had one more job for you, a job they think no one can ever successed in, unless it was you.

They didn't even tell you who your target is. Just simply send in you the location instead.

As you push open the door to your shared bedroom, your heart sinks when you see that Sylus is still awake. His eyes are fixed on you, and judging by the expression on his face, he is far from pleased.

His arms are crossed in front of his chest, a stern frown creasing his forehead as he regards you silently, waiting for an explanation.

“i was visiting a friend,” you explain, your grip of steel around the doorknob.

Sylus doesn't seem convinced by your flimsy story. He continues to stare at you, "Visiting a friend," he repeats, sarcastically.

“Mephisto says otherwise.”

That damned crow.

“I'd like it if you stopped stalking me.” You say bitterly. And it's true, his eyes seem to be everywhere, anywhere.

That's why you made sure to quit being an assassin before getting together with him. You wanted a happy, peaceful life as well.

“You're saying it like I'm some sort of creep or stranger.” he drawled, stepping closer to look down at you, and his crimson eyes seem to shine brighter in the dark as he lifts your chin up.

“I'm your husband, i have the right to know why my partner is late.” he squinted his eyes at you before letting go off your chin to turn away.

“Get some rest.” Sylus retreated back to bed. You both didn't speak a word that night, both of your backs facing the other, and you think the weather might have become colder.

—

They have threatened to hurt the people you love most if you don't do this one last mission.

You still feel upset that you didn't clear things up with Sylus last night, you hate fighting with him, but if it has to come down to this, then you'd rather protect him.

You made sure no one would follow you this time, not even Mephisto.

Let's say you did some adjustments on him.

Sorry lil guy.

It's probably not clever to leave your trail of footsteps behind on this particularly heavy snowy day, but they said your target would be here. Right at this time. And this place.

What an odd feeling.

Your body goes taut as you suddenly hear the sound of snow being crushed underfoot. It's a familiar sound that immediately puts you on alert. In a flash, you turn around, your gun gripped tightly and ready to fire.

Sylus.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you recognize the figure emerging from the falling snow.

Shock flood through you, your body instinctively relaxing a fraction as you lower your gun, "Sylus," you exhale breathlessly, the tension in your muscles melting away momentarily.

He observed you with a gaze that felt like it cut deep into your very core. There was no anger in his eyes, no hatred, no rage. Just a quiet resignation. “It's strange,” he says, his voice low, “fate bringing us here like this.”

He wasn't armed. He most likely knew.

Wait, he's.. the target?

He noticed your reaction, but there was no flicker of fear in his eyes. Despite your step back, he continued his approach, slowly and deliberately. His eyes never left you, yet there was not a threat in them, just...resignation...understanding?

Sylus was close, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body, so warm in the cold, he reached out and gently brushed the hair that had plastered itself to your face, to reveal your expression of fear.

“step… back.”

“and why should i do that?”

“I'll shoot,” the words slip from your tongue quicker than you could stop yourself from saying it.

He simply lifted one eyebrow at the sight of the gun now pointed at his chest, unperturbed. “Is that how you greet your husband dearest?” he asks, the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth with his head tilted slightly to the side.

He was so infuriatingly calm, like there was nothing to worry about.

His smile only widened, and he lifted his hand to rest it on the gun, his fingers gently tracing the barrel, bringing it closer to him, and you gasp, “but don’t you know how much I love getting under your skin, sweetie?”

“Don't—!” you drawed your hand back when his fingertips played dangerously near the trigger, sending your heart to almost stop. You step back again.

He knew you wouldn’t shoot.

“What the hell are you doing?” he said, his voice dropping the smooth façade once you aim the gun at yourself.

“Put that down, now.” he stepped closer to you, your warnings going through deaf ears before he became impatient, resolving this by using his evol, the energy manipulation red and black strands wrapping around your hand and taking the weapon away from your hold to throw it to the side.

Well, you were certainly no match for him.

“I can explain.” You sounded defeated, a fool. You knew you were going to face the consequences if you don't do something now. “I'm really sorry.”

“do that when we get home—”

Sylusd didn't get to finish what he was about to say, and he didn't freeze either when he heard the familiar sounds of gunshots going off.

Gunshots. Aimed directly at you.

He had no time to look around at the source of danger, everything felt like it wad going in slow motion when be was reaching his arm, his body out to protect you and shield you.

Only to find you on your knees in a blink of an eye, your body limp and falling into the pile of snow.

Sylus shouted your name in fear as he knelt beside you, gathering you gently in his arms, his voice a strangled gasp. He held you close, his eyes wild while his hands palpated your body, searching for the wound.

Two gunshots. Shot right through your chest and stomach.

No, no, no.

Sylus has never felt more scared than he was right now, with your crimson blood seeping quickly, melting down with the snow, even when he was taking off his coat and shirt, all to apply pressure on your wound.

He clutched you, his hands trembling, “stay with me," he pleaded, his voice hoarse. "Please, please stay with me.” His mind raced, frantically thinking of what to do, of why the blood wouldn't stop running down, your eyes so tired and almost dull, oh how he felt so helpless right now.

He clenched his jaw, the unfamiliar tears starting to gather around his eyes.

“You’re not quitting on me,” he muttered, the anger in him rising. “You don’t get to quit on me, damn it. You’re not dying on me. Not today, not anytime soon.”

“So—sorry..”

Your last breath. Sylus’ world came shattering down as your eyes lost their light and your body went still in his arms. There was no breath left, no pulse, just deafening silence and the harsh wind.

Your last words were an apology. Not an ‘i love you’ nor ‘take care’.

He refused to believe it. He refused to accept that you were gone, that your lips would never say his name again, that your hands would never touch his skin again.

”Don’t leave me.”

…

“please?”

…

“Are you really.. going to leave me to be alone again? ”

Sylus only remembers seeing red and white that day. The prettiest angel resting in his arms with their precious blood mixed with the cold embrace of the snow.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace angst #sylus angst

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puckinghischier · 3 months ago

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wait i’m crying imagine helping luke with his curl routine and you being the only person he trusts to touch his hair

“luke, hold still,” you tell him, massaging the diffuser around his head.

“it tickles. and it’s really warm,” he argues, twitching again, causing you to huff in frustration.

luke’s currently crouched down in front of you in his en-suite bathroom, sitting not so still while you try to do his newly implemented curl routine.

“honeybee, my knees hurt, we gotta take a break,” he pleads, bouncing slightly.

you turn off the hair dryer and let him stretch his legs to his full height.

“you know, if you’d let me make you an appointment at a salon we wouldn’t be in this predicament,” you tell him, looking up at his lop-sided curls.

a few weeks ago you convinced luke to start a curl care routine, knowing his hair was in desperate need of some TLC. when you first started dating, you saw the 3in1 bottle sitting in his otherwise empty shower and immediately dragged him to the nearest salon supply store to get a curl specific shampoo and conditioner set.

once he finally agreed to start a whole routine (with your help, of course) you picked out several creams and gels to lather into his hair after every shower.

so your new pre-bedtime routine, three nights out of the week, is making sure his hair is hydrated and taken care of. when you suggested letting a professional do a generalized curl care appointment to get him started, luke refused, arguing that you could do it just as good as any salon can.

“i told you, i don’t want them touching my hair,” he reiterates to you, giving the same response every time you suggest it to him.

“luke, they’re literally professionals. they know tricks that i don’t. maybe they could even do something to your hair that lasts for a few weeks, so we wouldn’t have to do this several nights a week. plus, it would help when you’re on the road,” you try to persuade him, reaching up and ruffling his curls around with both hands, trying to keep it from drying unevenly.

the first time he was on the road and it was a hair night, you tried to call him and walk him through it, but he claimed his hair didn’t turn out as soft and shiny as when you do it.

the next time, you had jack come and watch how you did it one night, having him step in to help luke since they typically room together, but he said jack didn’t do it right and he came out looking like he had a clown afro the next day.

“i don’t care. it’s just hair, it can wait until i’m back home,” he grabs your hands, pulling them from his hair and placing them on his shoulders.

you scoff in offense, swatting at his chest. “it is not just hair. it’s one of my favorite features of yours!”

“still doesn’t mean i’m going to let some stranger at a salon get all touchy with it,” he shrugs.

you roll your eyes at his stubbornness, not knowing why it’s such a big deal.

“if you don’t want to spend the money on it, i’ll literally pay for it. i just think it’d do some good, i don’t know why you’re so against it,” you offer.

luke shakes his head no, reaching up to move a stray piece of your own hair out of your face. “s’not the money,” he assures you. “it won’t feel as good as when you do it. love the feeling of your fingers all in my hair. s’comforting,” he says so casually, not even aware that his words caused butterflies to erupt in your belly.

you feel your face flush, biting your lip to hide the smile trying to break out on your face.

“well i’m not saying i’ll stop doing it. i’m just saying that maybe a trip to a salon once a month might prevent more bad hair days on the road,” you try to compromise, not wanting him to know how much his words affected you. you didn’t want to give him more reasons to refuse the idea.

“and i’m just saying, i don’t want anyone but you touching my hair,” he leans down to press his forehead against yours, locking his wide eyes onto yours dramatically.

before you can get a reply out of your mouth, he leans forward and presses his lips to yours, taking your hands off of his shoulders and bringing them up to his hair, emphasizing his point.

you toy with the flat curls, forgetting what you were meant to be doing until your fingers came into contact with a wet patch.

pulling back from the kiss abruptly, luke lets out a frustrated whine while chasing your lips with his.

“we have to finish drying your hair! if i don’t finish it soon it’s gonna dry all flat on one side because we didn’t diffuse it properly,” you pull back from him completely, grabbing the abandoned hair dryer on the counter.

luke groans, stomping over to stand in front of you, crouching back into his earlier position.

“just hurry. if we do this too much longer i’m going to have to tell my coach i can’t skate because i have stiff knees from my girlfriend’s curl routine she makes me do,” he crosses his arm and pouts like a child.

“keep up the whining and i’ll make jack do it next time,” you threaten, turning the hairdryer on and continuing the task at hand.

luke’s body tenses. “i swear to god if you bring jack over here to do my hair again i’m shaving it off.”

“you wouldn’t,” you gasp at him, not believing he just said such a thing.

“try me,” he responds, smirking at you through the large mirror.

#i have no clue how to take care of curly hair so i hope this is right #just go along with it #alliyaps #luke hughes #new jersey devils #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fanfic #lh43 #hughes brothers #hockey #nhl

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murdrdocs · 4 months ago

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Sunshine….Tyler Owens hitching a chase with chaser! reader and he’s getting turned on mid-tornado cause when the RPMs stutter she keeps talking to her truck like “cmon baby, you’ve got it. I know you can do it for me.”

-❣️

suggestive content; dirty talk in mundane environments; MDNI 18+ w/ TYLER OWENS

tyler really wishes he took his truck, because your hunk of clunk is barely making it down the road. who knows what'll happen when you're forced to go off road. will your truck even last the damage speeding towards ya'll?

tyler's doubtful—extremely doubtful as he sits in your passenger seat, trying to hide his fear as he digs his blunt nails into the fabric seat beneath his rugged jeans.

"we should've taken my truck," he says again for the millionth time. the same five words have become his safety net, the only words he knows how to utter as he lets you shakily steer him towards—what seems to be—an imminent death. he just hopes it's quick and he's glad, for once, that there are no cameras around. he doesn't need his death immortalized for any curious, poorly supervised twelve year old with an adequate internet connection to find.

"we're fine!" you stress, taking a deep breath when your truck skips a beat. "it would've taken too long to get your truck. we would've missed it." tyler knows you're right, but he can't focus on that right now.

he squeezes his eyes shut, trying his damndest to remember the lord's prayer. he really should've paid more attention in church instead of spending his time counting how many people were in the pews over and over again.

"he's doing good. he'll get us there," you assure.

tyler peeks one eye open, turning to see you staring straight ahead. determination looks cute on you.

you reach a hand out, resting it on the dash as you press your foot harder onto the gas pedal.

"come on. be a good boy. there you go. you got it, baby."

jesus fuck this is so not the time, but tyler can feel his jeans getting tighter. it's the adrenaline, he keeps telling himself. the erection steadily growing in his pants has absolutely nothing to do with your smooth voice and your accent and your words.

"your truck's a boy?" the question has no place for this environment, but tyler has to say something, otherwise he'll be stuck in his head, forced to listen to your melodic encouragements to an inanimate object.

"don't fucking—" a golf ball sized slab of hail pelts right down onto the center of the windshield, immediately followed by multiple others. you don't let it faze you as you dip your head down, squint up at the sky, and steer your truck off of the road and into a field. "worry about that, tyler."

but that's all he can worry about whenever the things you're saying to your truck are things he wants you to say to him.

"we're almost there, baby, almost done. just hang on for me a little while longer."

do you know you're speaking out loud? do you know that tyler can hear you over the sound of the weather?

"come on," you grit, pushing the truck just a little further, and when you reach your destination, you put it in park, deploy your spikes, and watch it all happen. tyler snaps out of his daze quick enough to open his eyes and look out of the window, staring straight up the center of the tornado through your sunroof for his favorite part, and he almost forgets about what you've been accidentally doing to him.

until it's all over and you sigh.

"there we go, baby! such a good boy. so proud of you."

#tyler owens x reader #celeste writes misc #tyler owens x you #tyler owens smut #twisters 2024 #–𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 ❣️

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zablife · 4 months ago

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Being Benny's Girl Would Include

Benny Cross Masterlist

A/N: After creating a similar list for Johnny, I now have one for Benny. Ty to a lovely anon for requesting it!

Warnings: slightly nsfw, drinking, mention of injury, mention of a weapon

♡ There are many sleepless nights, worrying about him out on the open road. And you have good cause bc he's constantly returning to you bruised and bloodied.

♡ You learn how to dress wounds, even sew a few stitches, bc he's too stubborn to go to a hospital, preferring your gentle touch instead. "You're better than any damn doctor, sweetheart."

♡ If you pout when he returns, he'll try to make you forget how upset you've been with a bit of teasing that cleverly puts something else in the forefront of your mind. "Did you pray for me every night like a good girl? On your hands and knees? Let me see."

♡ When you're feeling clingy, he'll take you down to the bar with him, not giving a shit what the guys think when you leave lipstick on him or pluck the cigarette from his lips for a drag instead of lighting your own. In fact, he encourages your behavior, flipping his chair around in hopes your small hand will nestle into the back pocket of his Levi's.

♡ Benny's not much of a talker, but he opens up to you bc you're the first person who's ever really cared enough to ask the right questions. That makes him want to tell you things he's never said out loud. He confides the ring on his pinkie came from his granddaddy, the only real father figure he ever knew.

♡ He gifts the important possession to you as a sign of his devotion and his heart skips a beat when he thinks about how you wear it on a chain bc it would slip off your delicate finger too easily otherwise.

♡ You're his sweet girl, an angel so precious he has restless nights worrying about you amongst all the burly men in the rough bars and pool halls he frequents. His concerns over keeping you safe giving him full blown insomnia after Kathy is attacked at a house party.

♡ You'll prob find yourself in an empty field the next morning, caged in by Benny's muscular arms, holding his .38 in your trembling hands. Nodding toward the line of beer bottles in the distance as he softly instructs, "squeeze the trigger real slow as you exhale. You can do it, darlin'."

♡ You didn't see the need considering the protective way he drapes his arm over you, eyes cautiously scanning the room with a feral look in his eye. Everyone knows what it means. Touch her and you're a dead man.

♡ He's been known to take things too far, esp when he's drinking. Once a guy collided with you at the bar, spilling beer down your white dress and turning it sheer. The unlucky son of a bitch found himself on the street seconds later facing the broken end of the bottle inches from his throat.

♡ The novelty of having your honor defended loses its appeal with every trip to county. Benny senses it in your anguished sigh and furrowed brow when you come to bail him out, hanging his head shamefully the moment he catches sight of you.

♡ Since there's nothing he hates more than disappointing you, he tries to keep his impulses in check and focus on your needs. "You know I'd do anything for you, angel."

♡ Nothing made your heart race with excitement quite like the day he stole you away for a winding ride that ended under a magnificent orange sunset. When he removed his shirt to make love to you in the tall grass, you glimpsed your name freshly inked over his heart.

#the bikeriders fanfiction #Austin Butler #Benny Cross fanfiction #Benny Cross x reader #Benny Cross x you #Benny Cross x y/n #Benny Cross

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laurfilijames · 6 months ago

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Easy Access

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption. Fingering. Unprotected intercourse. Creampie. Semi-public sex.

Summary: Unable to keep your hands off of each other since Will's return home from tour, going to a party at Benny's proves to be no exception, especially when he discovers you're not wearing any panties under your sundress.

A/N: It is so rare that Will is smiling and happy so I've made it my mission to give him every ounce of joy he deserves and packed it all into one delicious fic for you, all while indulging in the slutty "bend me over and fuck me in a sundress" fun which is still very much IN 😤 I am also celebrating my 1 year Charlie-versary of when I posted my first fic for one of his characters, which just so happened to be Will Miller, Breathe.

---

Three days had passed since Will returned home, meaning it had been three days since either of you stepped foot out of the house.

Keeping your hands off of each other since the moment they made contact again was proving impossible, your attempt at making up for lost time a challenge both of you had eagerly accepted.

Even now as you sat in his truck on the way to Benny’s, Will had his hand planted firmly on your bare leg, your short sundress giving some relief from the sweltering summer weather, but his palm felt like it was on fire the longer it lingered there, spreading a heat through your whole body that rivaled the sun beaming in through the open window.

He gave your thigh a squeeze before reaching for your hand, bringing it up to his mouth where he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, letting it linger there so you were able to feel his breath and the soft prickling of his beard.

Pulling up to a stop light, Will glanced over at you, smiling against your hand as he sent you a wink that ignited even more fire through your veins.

“You look good, sweetheart,” he praised, his familiar drawl low and enticing.

“Do we have to go?” you joked, tilting your head as you squirmed in your seat, seeing his smile grow into a chuckle that you had missed more than you ever thought possible.

“Yeah, we do. Unfortunately we can’t stay locked up in the house all week.”

His eyebrows rose on his forehead when he looked at you, and when he tucked his lip between his teeth after he stopped speaking, you wondered how much effort it would take to convince him otherwise.

You nodded, giving his hand a squeeze as he looked forward at the road again when the light turned green.

“I know you’re looking forward to seeing your brother.”

Will nodded in response, using his free hand to turn his truck left onto the next street. “Yeah, I am.”

Benny had deployed nearly two months before Will had, Pope along with him, and with Frankie, Tom and Will all on their own tours, this was one of the longest periods they had all gone without seeing each other.

Frankie had arranged it all, gathering everyone together for a dinner at Benny’s as a reunion, the need to celebrate each of them returning home safe a priority and perfect excuse to smoke a giant slab of meat and toss back some beers.

“We won’t stay too late,” Will assured, stealing a glance over at you again, his eyes traveling up your legs to your chest that bounced along with the movement of his truck over each bump in the road.

“We can stay as long as you want, Will. I can’t keep you all to myself forever.”

A sort of growl mixed in with his laugh as he shook his head and tried his best to focus on driving, and you felt your pulse quicken as you watched his hammer in his thick neck.

“See, sweetheart, that’s where you’ve got it wrong.”

He pulled onto Benny’s street, slowing down as he approached his brother’s house and found a spot not far down from it, parking his truck behind Catfish’s.

Unfastening his seatbelt, he leaned over the console to get closer to you, his expression somewhat serious even though the hint of a smile played on his gorgeous lips.

“All I want is to hide away with you forever,” he admitted, making your heart feel as if it would burst in your chest.

Before you had the opportunity to say anything in response, Will reached over to close the space between you, his left hand cupping the side of your face to keep you in place as his mouth crashed into yours, a surprised gasp that turned into a soft moan tumbling off your tongue as his danced with it.

It was dizzying, the passion in that kiss and every one that had come before it since his return unlike anything you had experienced before, the crave you felt to taste him on your lips again and again an addiction you could never be rehabilitated from.

You heard him chuckle quietly after he had pulled away, his thumb rubbing your cheek while you kept your eyes closed, almost feeling afraid that if you opened them, he wouldn’t be there. Everything you did in the last three days felt otherworldly, too perfect to be real, and even now you let your fingers dig into the tattooed skin on his forearm just as you had so many times already in order to believe he was actually there with you.

A sigh of relief blew past your lips when you finally did open your eyes, finding him staring back at you with a warmth that made his eyes seem to glow in the late afternoon sun, the smile he flashed at you grounding you just as much as it disarmed you.

“I wish we never had to leave that bed,” he purred, moving to pull the handle to open his door to step out.

“Who said we can’t carry on what we do in bed anywhere else?” you replied, cheekily, grinning in reaction to seeing his eyebrows raise high on his forehead in amusement as he walked around the front of his truck and over to the passenger side, giving you a somewhat warning look as he opened your door for you.

“You’re playing with fire, here. Better watch yourself.”

You chewed on the side of your lip as you hopped out of your seat, feeling mischievous in knowing he had yet to discover your dirty little secret, excitement mixing with arousal as you wondered how he would react when he noticed.

Closing your door, you met him at the open door of the back seat, standing to the side as he reached in and grabbed a dish off the floor, leaving another that contained one of the other appetizers you had prepared for you to carry in as he lifted the small cooler full of beers out of the bed of the truck.

You made a point of leaning in as far as you could to reach it, bending at your waist as much as you could even though it wasn’t necessary due to the height of the truck, but knowing this angle would allow for him to see your bare ass.

“Are you not wearing any panties?” he asked, surprise and amusement in his voice, the expression on his face matching when you stood upright and faced him.

You grinned and shrugged, watching his sly smile reach his eyes that were now tinged with a darkness that you knew was lust.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he huffed, slamming the door shut before turning to step onto the sidewalk. “Jesus Christ,” he added under his breath, clearly wondering how he was going to manage now.

With satisfaction giving you a spring in your step, you followed, walking up the driveway beside him, hearing music coming from the backyard along with the familiar laughs of your friends.

Will paused, quickly meeting your lips in a forceful kiss, the deep breath he took when he parted telling you how hard he was working at keeping his composure before reaching the gate that would lead you into the party.

He flicked the latch on the gate, but grabbed the top of it with his large hand before letting it swing open, blocking the entrance so you were stopped beside him. The look he gave you was stern, adding to the flurry of excitement already pulsing wildly through you, and his voice held a tone that made you hold your breath and your skin tingle, feeling the light, humid breeze tickle the sweat on your legs as your less-than-innocent sundress moved with it.

“If you’re gonna play games like this, you’re gonna have to deal with the consequences,” he warned, the corner of his mouth pulling upward ever so slightly as he backed himself against the door to open it, still holding eye contact with you as he let you pass by him.

You didn’t know how long you had been there for, the only thing you knew was that your need for Will was increasing with each passing second and that he seemed to enjoy torturing you, the game you had set up to have him begging for you effectively reversed. It was difficult to keep a steady conversation with anyone - impossible, even - your focus drawn across the yard to wherever Will was standing, seeming to latch eyes with him each time and feeling his locked on you when you forced yourself to look away.

The way he was making you feel almost had you regretting your decision not to wear panties and make it known to him, but as you watched him lick his lips and rub the back of his neck as he half-listened to something his brother and Pope were laughing about, you knew your choices would be rewarded despite him acting like punishment was a more suitable response, and if you were honest, that was exactly what you were hoping for.

You knew you were pressing your luck, sitting down on an old lawn chair, your gaze fixed on Will to make sure he was watching as you blatantly crossed your legs, knowing he could see your naked sex before the overlap of your bare thighs concealed you again.

Despite the somewhat smug grin on your face, your heart was racing uncontrollably, the nerves coursing through you growing at a furious rate as you took in the unreadable expression on Will’s face. You couldn’t decide if he was angry or amused, his arms folded across his chest, his stance sturdy and confident, chewing on a toothpick that he rolled from side to side across his lips with his tongue, and it made you wonder if he couldn’t decide how to feel either.

He shook his head and you noticed his chest rise and fall with a huff before looking away, plucking the toothpick out of his mouth so he could take a sip of his beer that he reached for off the picnic table.

You bit your lower lip, trying to mask your satisfied smirk, and took a deep breath of your own as you attempted to refocus on the conversation happening around you, but you still couldn’t seem to peel your eyes away from Will.

He was clearly trying to do the same, but also failing, and when he stole a look over at you again, you took the opportunity to recross your legs to give him another glimpse of what was his for the taking if he dared.

The crunch of the aluminum can being crushed in his powerful hand seemed to echo in your ears, his eyes steely as he maintained eye contact with you while his other hand subtly adjusted his cock in his shorts that you knew was getting hard.

Will licked his lips before looking back to Benny where he patted his brother firmly on the shoulder, saying something to him as he held up his empty beer can, taking a step in the direction of the garage.

Catching your gaze again, he tilted his head, nodding for you to follow him before he disappeared around the wall of the building.

With your mouth now feeling dry, you downed what was left of your drink and stood, politely excusing yourself from the others who sat near you even though you hadn’t contributed to the conversation in too long a time thanks to your occupied thoughts, your hand instinctively smoothing the back of your dress to make sure you were covered as you walked through the yard.

Looking over your shoulder to ensure no one was following, you rounded the corner only to walk straight into Will who lunged out and grabbed you, laughing as you yelped, your heart stopping from the scare.

“Jesus, Will!”

He continued to chuckle, his smile crooked as he still held the toothpick between his lips, his hands groping at your waist and then lower to your bare ass. You couldn’t help but join his laughter, seeing him smile and be this playful replacing the brief fright with a swell in your heart.

“I don’t think you have any idea how much I missed hearing your laugh,” you admitted, resting your hands on his warm chest as he beamed at you.

“Is that so?”

You nodded your head in confirmation, smiling as he dipped in and kissed you, your arms wrapping around his neck while his secured around your back and pulled you against him, able to feel his cock pressing against your body.

“Come here,” he said through a growl, his voice rough and lusty while his eyes continued to hold a playfulness in them, leading you in through the open door and giving the toothpick a flick that landed somewhere on the oil-stained concrete floor.

Walking far enough in so he was sure no one would see you unless they actually came inside the garage, Will wasted no time in planting you against Benny’s workbench, his kisses coming on so forceful and desperate it was hard to keep up.

Both of you were smiling between kisses, completely elated and lost in the thrill of it all, and as much as you had expected Will to follow through on making you pay for your little stunt, it still caught you off-guard when you felt his fingers trail up between your legs to stroke your wet folds.

“Here? Now?” you asked, half squirming and half leaning into his touch, a breathy moan passing your lips as you let yourself succumb to the feel of his index finger pushing inside you.

He peered down at you, his eyes shifting with amusement as you relaxed into him and started to roll your hips. “It's what you wanted, isn't it?”

You nodded quickly, biting your lip to stifle your sounds of pleasure that he was already coaxing out of you.

“You're lucky I can't get enough of you,” he growled, adding a second finger and hooking them to massage your g-spot. “If you're gonna dress and act like a slut then you're gonna be treated like one.”

His words sent a shiver up your spine, your nipples hardening against the thin fabric of your sundress, and your eyes closed as he fingered you as perfectly as always. You felt his face draw close to yours, his breath hot on your dewy cheek, his beard grazing your reactive skin as he dipped in beside your ear.

“No one's gonna know…”

You grinned when his lips attached to your neck, the thought of denying this man anything he wanted humourous, knowing that after being apart for as long as you had, nothing could stop you.

It all progressed quickly; your kisses intensifying with each one, the sound of your name coming off his lips as he told you he loved you making you delirious, your hands grasping at each other desperately.

The smell of his shampoo was awoken by your fingertips scratching through his hair, the press of his lips on yours and the way his tongue claimed your mouth while his beard chafed at your chin and cheeks all a reminder that there would never be a day you would be sated of him.

You let your hands slip down his neck and over his broad shoulders, finding a resting place on his thick chest that radiated a warmth that made his cotton t-shirt cling even more to it, and you could feel his heart thrum against your palm before his laugh rumbled through to it.

“The things you make me do, sweetheart,” he chuckled, allowing his hands to leave your body for a moment while he unfastened the button and zipper on his shorts and pulled out his cock.

You returned his smile, yours feeling lazy on your lips from the haziness of lust, and you reached for his cock, smoothing your hand up and down his length until his smile was wiped away and he clutched your jaw with his hand, squeezing it as he kissed you again.

He peppered along down to your neck, his fervor increasing as your reaction to it encouraged him more, the hand that had been gripping your chin falling to your chest where he pawed at you roughly while the other rucked up the skirt of your dress.

“I still don't think you realize how much I missed you, and I’m not even close to being done yet,” he growled, driving his fingers in your soaked cunt again.

You leaned back against the workbench, your hands gripping the edge of it for stability as your head tipped back, allowing Will more access to attack your neck and chest with his mouth, feeling the grittiness of dirt and grime left from Benny’s projects under your fingertips.

“Fuck, Will…” you breathed, riding his hand without shame.

“Turn around, I wanna see that ass,” he demanded, though his tone was light with mischief.

He removed his fingers from you and aided in spinning you around, kicking your feet apart with his as you hinged forward and resecured your hold on the countertop, his hand trailing from the small of your back where he had pressed with intention to down between your cheeks while lifting your dress back up over the round of your ass.

You moaned, arching back into him, feeling him rub his cock across your cheeks as he continued to finger you from behind, his other hand reaching around to grab your breasts and tug at your neckline.

He gave you a playful spank, but it didn’t come without a sting, making you jolt forward slightly which caused the bench to shake against the wall, his voice gruff but light mannered when he spoke.

“I know you think this dress looks all pretty and innocent on you, but only I know what a whore you actually are in it.”

“Fuck,” you gasped, his words and the way he was hitting the spot that would make you fall apart each time he moved in and out of you causing your arms to break their support, knocking over a few empty beer bottles and cans that sat amidst the rusty tools.

“Easy, baby,” he soothed, but not ceasing his pace. “We gotta be quick but not that quick.”

Continuing to prime you to take his size, you heard him chuckle again, his tone completely satisfied and humoured as if he was basking in the fact that he now had the upper hand in the situation.

“How are you gonna manage with no panties after you’re filled up and dripping with my load, huh?”

You sighed out, glancing over your shoulder at him as he proceeded to grin smugly at you, realizing you hadn’t thought this stunt entirely through.

“We’ll call it an oversight.”

Your response only made Will laugh more, the sound of it making your heart sing in seeing him this happy even if it was partially at your expense.

“You could always put it somewhere else?” you suggested, your mouth watering at the thought of swallowing his hot cum while looking up at his pleasured face from your knees that would end up dirty and scuffed.

He shook his head as he lined himself up to your entrance, pushing into your soppy cunt as his voice changed to be slightly gruff. “Not a fucking chance.”

Your nails raked across the gritty, wood surface as Will bottomed out in you, stretching you completely to fit around his fat cock, the first of his hard thrusts making the workbench slam against the wall.

You cursed under your breath, having him pumping in and out of you a reminder of how hard he had already fucked you that morning, the mix of pleasure and pain making your whines grow to soft cries.

“Does it hurt, sweetheart?” Will asked, the concern in his voice genuine even though he didn’t relent on his pace.

You shook your head ‘no’, pressing your hips back to meet him blow for blow, feeling a tingle scurry down your back at the thrill of it all.

“You know I like it,” you replied, your skin erupting in goosebumps despite the heat when you heard him chuckle in a gratified way.

“That’s my girl,” he grunted, continuing to pound you with ardor.

It was getting difficult to keep quiet, but with how loud the bench was hitting the wall you suspected what you and Will were off doing was no longer discreet to the rest of the party, so you allowed yourself to stop worrying and focus on how good it felt.

Although Will’s heavy panting and rough moans were equally as loud as you were, he gave the occasional warning to quiet down, and each time one of your wails out-did any other noises you were making together, his laugh would ring out, clearly finding the prospect of getting caught hilarious.

“Shit!” Will called out, still through a chuckle, releasing the grip of one of his hands from your hips to grab at a mason jar filled with various bolts, screws and washers as it tumbled down from an overhead shelf. It danced off the tips of his fingers and hit the floor with a loud smash, sending its contents scattering around your feet.

“Will!” you half cried, half scolded, and as you moved slightly to try to see the damage done, your arm knocked a couple of cans off the table to add to the mess on the ground.

“Jesus…” Will laughed, picking up his tempo a bit to quicken getting the job done, the risk growing with each passing second.

The rate at which he was fucking you had you a disheveled mess, the straps of your dress having slipped down your shoulders, and without their security, each hammering thrust continued to shake your body enough until your tits easily fell out.

Nearing your climax, you lost control of the volume of your cries, and in your haze of pleasure, you could barely hear Will telling you to pipe down.

Right when you were about to fall into bliss, Will pulled out of you and roughly turned you around to face him, his hand gripping the side of your face somewhat forcefully before he crashed his mouth against yours to quiet you. His other hand grabbed the flesh of your thigh and lifted it up to lock around his waist, driving back inside you with his cock that was warm and wet from you.

You moaned into his mouth, only to have him force his tongue deeper inside while he resumed fucking you with all he had, moving the hand that had been holding your face down to your exposed breasts.

Like he had given up caring if you were heard, he broke your kiss to look at you, his blue eyes soaking you up as he drank in the heavenly sight before him; your bare boobs bouncing to his movements, the sweat glistening on your chest and neck that made your hair stick to it, your swollen, moist lips that parted as you fought for breath between moans, and then his gaze fell lower where he watched your drenched cunt taking his dick.

“Fuck you are so hot!” he said through a grin, his tone hinting that he couldn’t believe you were his to treat like this.

He dipped back down to your lips, kissing you once before letting his open mouth hang against yours, stealing another glance at where your bodies connected and crude, squelching sounds came from.

“I missed this fucking pussy so much,” he muttered, his lips teasing yours as he did, and unable to take it anymore, you reached your hand around his neck and pulled him against you, kissing him fiercely while driving your hips into his to grind on him roughly.

Broken kisses continued their attempt at suffocating your sounds as you found a rolling rhythm that would see you to your end, your hands desperately tearing at Will’s thick, sweaty flesh through his damp t-shirt.

A violent orgasm ripped through you, forcing Will to press his lips harder against yours to drown out your cries, burying himself deeper inside your walls that choked his throbbing cock, your leg wrapping around his plump, half-bare ass to help ensure he didn't leave you as you rode out your high.

Even if he wanted to hold back, he wouldn't have been able to, your climax inducing his own, his thrusts slamming and stuttering as he pumped you full with aggressive spurts of cum.

“Fuck, baby,” he smiled against your lips, his forehead resting on yours as you both panted for breath, drunk on each other and completely spent.

You giggled, the thrill of your naughty behaviour adding to the post-fuck euphoria, feeling the rumble of Will’s laugh resonate through your body as he remained inside you.

He pulled away from you enough to peer down at you, his eyes heavy and lusty but crinkling at the sides as he smiled lazily at you, his cheeks blushed and covered in drops of sweat, his blond hair darkened from his efforts.

He continued to smile at you as he fixed the straps of your dress, his fingers gently and lovingly grazing your shoulders as he did, looking at you so adoringly that you could never deny how much he had missed you while he was away.

“I really like this dress,” he spoke softly, his fingers trailing down to trace the material that hugged the curve of your breasts, bringing his face close to yours as he pinched your nipple and tugged it, making you moan and arch toward him.

He kissed the space between your ear and neck, and growled as if he was already fighting to restrain himself again. “But I’m gonna rip it off of you at some point and ruin you completely.”

Will’s teeth nipped along your jawline, and before he pressed his lips on yours, looked at you with a dark, promising look that had your body set aflame all over again.

You hummed against his lips, feeling him slip out of you while wondering how much longer you would manage to stay at the party, knowing it would only be a matter of time before you were desperate for him again, and judging by the force of his kiss and the way his hands clawed at your sundress, he was feeling the same.

“You go inside and get cleaned up,” he said, nodding to the door that led into Benny’s house. “I’ll sort all this out.”

You glanced at the mess on the ground he was referring to, broken glass and various types of hardware littered all around you, and being the gentleman he always was, he took your hand and assisted you safely over to the door.

Will tucked himself back in his shorts and promptly located a broom and dustpan, beginning to sweep up when he heard the shuffling of his brother’s footsteps walking into the garage.

Benny stopped, causing Will to look over at him, laughing when he saw the annoyed look on his face.

“Really?” was all Benny managed to get out, his arms outstretched while Will just shrugged and continued cleaning up.

“You two are fucking unbelievable, you know that?” Benny hissed, pushing Will hard on the shoulder as he passed to add more empties to the disrupted collection on the workbench.

Will only laughed harder, dumping what he had accumulated in the dustpan into the garbage as Benny grabbed two beers out of the fridge and handed one to him, knocking his bottle against his and then twisting off the cap to take a sip.

“It’s good to see you happy, man,” he said, clapping his hand on Will’s back before heading out of the garage and back to the party.

---

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#will miller #triple frontier #will miller x female reader #will 'ironhead' miller #charlie hunnam #will miller smut #will miller x reader #triple frontier fic #charlie hunnam characters #william miller #william 'Ironhead' miller

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xinganhao · 13 days ago

Text

🍂 svt (taylor's version).

⌗ ┆love song edition ★ ₊ ˚ heartbreak edition.

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: angst... so much angst, deteriorating relationships, break-ups, exes, red flags -ish, mentions of alcohol/drinking, cussing, pet names. drabbles under the cut.

🍂 hit play .ᐟ

SEUNGCHEOL SKIPPED 🎧 i'd give you my sunshine, give you my best, but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me. (PEACE)

seungcheol can't meet any of his friends' eyes as he grumbles on and on about you. the boys think he's drunk off his ass at this point; truthfully, he can still see and think pretty clearly. a part of him feels like he's wasting your honor, to be so openly bitching and moaning about why he shouldn't, why he can't go back to you. the short story is that seungcheol doesn't want you to be collateral damage. with the life he lives? you'll always be in the line of fire. he'd rather cut ties than have that happen. but— when someone mumbles something about seungcheol probably not being that in love with you after all? about his love being 'for show'? he almost wants to scream. you don't know me, he nearly snaps. you don't know what i'd do for them. he'd die for you in secret.

JEONGHAN SKIPPED 🎧 you said it was a great love, one for the ages; but if the story's over, why am i still writing pages? (DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS)

you don't say anything about jeonghan taking the long way home, which leaves him both grateful and frustrated. he wants you to call him out, wants you to question his intentions. anything but this. instead, you sit quietly in the passenger seat, basking in the aftermath of your last good day together. when jeonghan stops at an intersection, he dares to glance over at you. his fingers tighten imperceptibly around the steering wheel. there had been a time when the two of you kissed at red lights, when you'd quieted all his fears with the touch of your hand. there's none of that now. you keep your eyes on the road ahead, feigning ignorance at the way jeonghan is driving way below the speed limit. the light turns green; he curses the universe for it. he doesn't want to go home. going home meant sleeping, and sleeping meant waking up to a morning where you'd no longer be his.

JOSHUA SKIPPED 🎧 you had a speech, you're speechless. love slipped beyond your reaches and i couldn't give a reason. (CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS)

joshua had watched a dozen videos about how to get down on one knee when proposing. he didn't realize he'd be on both knees, begging you to stay. that's why his right knee— the one that hadn't expected the cold ground— is just a little sore. he kneads it mindlessly, watching blankly as the city flies by. he didn't even get to pull out the ring; it's still burning a hole in to his pocket. a blessing from his mother, a curse in the form of rose gold. he briefly contemplates leaving it in this train car for someone who might actually appreciate it, though he decides against it last minute. a thought occurs to him when he passes your station. it's enough to nearly make him laugh. (or burst in to tears. he can't quite decide.) joshua realizes: he's never going to be able to take a train again without thinking of you. somehow, that's even worse than the botched proposal.

JUNHUI SKIPPED 🎧 i guess sometimes we all get some kind of haunted. (MIDNIGHT RAIN)

both of junhui's hands are shaking as he takes the stage. there's smattering applause, then there's a trophy being shoved towards him, then there's the glare of a dozen cameras. he thanks his manager. he thanks his fans, his family, his friends. "and—" his breath hitches. it's a good thing that he's such a great actor. otherwise, one might've seen the flicker of pain on his expression. because he's thinking of you. wondering whether you're watching live or if you'll see clips of this on your sns later in the week. will you reach out again? or will he be left spending many midnights waiting for a text that's not going to come? he pivots, his eyes seeking out the closest broadcast camera. "and here's to getting just what we wanted," he says smoothly, flashing a grin that doesn't quite reach his eyes. this is why he keeps trying to win— so you'll have no choice but to think of him, too.

SOONYOUNG SKIPPED 🎧 choose something, babe, i got nothing to believe unless you're choosin' me. (YOU'RE LOSING ME)

"i'm the best thing at this party!" you screech, making soonyoung's face flush red with shame. he casts a glance around his surroundings to check if anybody is witnessing your outburst. big mistake. that only seems to aggravate you more. he reaches out for you, his hands closing around the groove of your wrist. there had been a time when he used to feel your pulse flutter at his touch, at his mere presence. there's none of that tonight. he's beginning to think that it hasn't been that way for a long time. you greet his hold with stormy eyes and gritted teeth, with a low hiss of "i only wanted you to see me." he wants to refute your tirade, wants to say that of course he sees you. he's looking right now, isn't he? he's— he's losing you before his very eyes and he doesn't know what to do.

WONWOO SKIPPED 🎧 if our love died young, i can't bear witness. (RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME)

"the usual?" the pitying waiter asks wonwoo. he gives her a close-lipped smile and a nod in return. when she goes in to punch his order, he feels that odd sense of nostalgia. a twisted, treacherous feeling borne from the fact that he's still visiting this damn restaurant. still asking for the seat in the corner, where the light is dim and the tablecloth is a crisp white. first real date. first anniversary. break-up. this corner has seen it all. wonwoo is twenty-eight now, but he feels twenty-three in his fantasy. as he picks at his appetizer, he imagines the new life you lead. somewhere nice with someone who's giving you everything that he can't. he doesn't blame you for leaving, for not waiting. that doesn't make it hurt any less, though. five years later, wonwoo still thinks he's going to stay here forever.

JIHOON SKIPPED 🎧 but there was one thing missing and that was the moment i knew. (THE MOMENT I KNEW)

the seaweed soup on the counter has gotten cold by the time that jihoon slips in to your apartment. you're splayed out on the couch in a fitful sleep. he realizes you haven't even changed, haven't washed off your makeup. it's all still there: the party dress, the red lipstick. all the evidence of jihoon's failure. he knows where this is heading. he sees the ending that he deserves from a mile away. still, he leaves on your coffee table a usb of what he'd been working on. he drapes a blanket over your shoulders. he considers kissing you on the forehead but he decides against it at the last minute. he doesn't think he has that privilege. instead, he takes his leave, knowing that if this was the last gift he got to give you, then he'd be somewhat content. he's always been better at speaking through his work anyway, but tonight that wasn't enough.

★ in the morning, you find the song jihoon had been working on for you:

MINGYU SKIPPED 🎧 i guess you never know; and if you wanted me, you really should've showed. (THE 1)

it shouldn't be this easy, catching up with a what-could-have-been. but mingyu still finds it to be the most comforting thing in the world. maybe too much, though, because as the two of you discuss the greatest films of all time, the alcohol makes his tongue just a little more loose. "if one thing had been different," he muses. "would everything be different today?" you know what he's asking, what he's implying. you answer his prodding with a measured sip of your own beer. he laughs, figuring he deserves that. you're not here to talk about marriage pacts and maybe's. this is nothing more than a drinking session with an old friend; mingyu tries to remind himself of that. he pushes the envelope just a teensy, tiny bit. "it would've been fun," he says as nonchalantly as he can manage. his mind quietly supplies the rest of the sentence: it would've been fun if you had been the one.

SEOKMIN SKIPPED 🎧 you can plan for a change in the weather and time, but i never planned on you changing your mind. (LAST KISS)

it's a special kind of pain, to watch someone's life unfold in pictures. it's the only place that seokmin can catch you nowadays. the squares of instagram. the tagged photos on facebook. you, looking like the life of the party. you, dancing on a rained-out pavement. he's pathetic, he knows, to be stalking an ex's sns like this. but the night is lonely and his phone has the answers to all of his questions about you. well, maybe not all of the questions. he's gnawing his bottom lip as his fingers fly over his keyboard, but it's not to reach out to you. he doesn't want to put you through that; he'll harrow everybody else before he does. the last few connections you two share have all heard from seokmin in one way or another. how are they? he'll text casually. they look like they're doing well.

MINGHAO SKIPPED 🎧 i made you my temple, my mural, my sky, now i'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life. (TOLERATE IT)

minghao waits by the door like a child reprimanded. you're a couple of paces away from him, bent over the kitchen sink— polishing plates that are already clean. it's an old habit of yours. a telltale sign that something's wrong. he almosts takes your hands in his to keep you from all your nervous tics, but then you speak. "if it's all in my head, tell me now. tell me i've got it wrong," you say, not even bothering to look up at him. minghao has never lied to you; he was not about to start now. and so he stays quiet, giving you all the answers you need. it's not all in your head. you're not wrong, his silence communicates. there's only so much of his indiscretions that you can tolerate. minghao, like always, sits and watches you— watches you learn, watches you lose, watches you leave.

SEUNGKWAN SKIPPED 🎧 sometimes i really wish that i could hate you; i've tried, but that's just somethin' i can't do. (DON'T YOU)

seungkwan will be the first to admit that he doesn't know how to be just friends with you. he wants to. wants to keep that connection in his life, wants to move past the failed relationship for the sake of your camaraderie. but as much as he tries to walk away and go on with his life, he knows it will all just be pretend. he finds someone else. that doesn't work out. he watches you try, too, with others, only for that to fall through as well. and so seungkwan is just a little guilty of smiling at you, of running in to you somewhere and staring just a little too long. he doesn't have the right to say the next couple of words, but he's also never been good at denying himself of the truth. "i missed you," he admits. past tense, he notices, so he amends. "i miss you."

VERNON SKIPPED 🎧 in my dreams, you're touching my face and asking me if i'd want to try again with you— and i almost do. (I ALMOST DO)

vernon has had a long week, thanks for asking. he would have wanted to see the city lights. and he dreams of you, too— montages where you're touching his face, asking if he wants to try again. the answer is simple; the answer is 'yes'. but he's a believer of clean cuts, of movies without sequels. so each time you reach out, there's no reply. the last couple of texts has vernon sighing because he knows what you're thinking. he knows how you think. you've probably concluded that he hates you, that he has better things to do with his time. truthfully, he's been fighting every single impulse to respond. to call just for the sake of hearing your voice. he can't say hello to you and risk another goodbye. he wouldn't survive it.

CHAN SKIPPED 🎧 dreams of your hair and your stare and sense of belief in the good in the world; you once believed in me. (HITS DIFFERENT)

chan knows he's being insufferable. he knows he's being attention-seeking, knows he's a little petty and a lot unfair. but he can't help it. the mere thought of you with someone else makes him want to hurl on the side of the street. and so he scream-sings your favorite songs in every club; he slurs your name until his friends are shoving him in to an uber. "their love was a lie, you know?" one of them tells him, one particular evening. chan only laughs in their face. that shit was not going to get him by. chan would rather have a raging hangover every morning than think you didn't love him. he'll get over it eventually, he's sure. for now, though, he orders his nth cocktail, much to his friends' exasperation. moving on had always been easy for him to do, but then came you.

#svt imagines #seventeen imagines #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt smau #seventeen smau #svt angst #seventeen angst #── ᵎᵎ ✦ mine #[ oomf. ]#[ jihoon im so sorry i keep doing this to you ]#[ personal favs : shua + jun !! WOOOH ]#[ also just a small thing -- the love song series being them 'queueing' songs and the heartbreak series being them 'skipping' the songs ? ]#[ yeah. Yeah. insane. ]#[ anyway!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you can pry angst out of my COLD HANDS ]#Spotify

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luveline · 8 months ago

Note

Just thinking about Aaron taking a half asleep bombshell!reader’s makeup off on the ride home late after a case!! He’s so gentle with her and knows all the steps, doing it with care so he doesn’t wake her up fully

It’s only because Aaron knows that the driver employed tonight is temporary that he touches you freely. You’ve been on a plane for hours, at the office even longer, somehow, and you don’t crack —if anyone were to ask you how you were that night, you would’ve said perfect.

But Aaron knew you were exhausted, and alone in the car with him, you aren’t afraid to finally give up the act. You slouch with your eyes screwed closed and your GoBag in your lap, your hand skewed on his thigh.

You have very pretty hands, in his humble opinion. Mostly because of the way you use them. Even in your fatigue your thumb is grazing against the starched length of his pants gently, a curved back and forth.

He wishes that things between you weren’t quite so private. What man wouldn’t want to brag about being touched with such care? And by such a fiercely pretty woman?

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

The car crunches over the road in a constant humming like fine gravel. The driver doesn’t look from the windshield at Aaron’s voice, nor do you look up from your dozing.

“Honey, don’t get too comfortable,” he warns.

You hum with lips closed.

He decides it doesn’t matter. You can get comfortable if you want to. He can very well attempt to carry you up to your apartment. He’d be happy to do that. Aaron not so secretly loves to take care of you, after all.

“Can I see this?” he asks, taking your GoBag from you gently.

You manage a mumbled, “Yeh,” as he takes it.

“Thank you.”

Aaron unzippers your bag and goes to the very back where you keep your makeup bag tucked into a fabric pocket. From there he’s familiar, unbuttoning the front clasp, searching in the dark for your makeup remover and the small cloth you keep for emergencies. He’d wait to get home, only he knows there’s still a while yet to get there what with the roadworks closing the majority of the roads the run from Quantico to DC.

“What are you doing?” you ask, eyelashes dragging apart slowly.

“I’m going to wipe your mascara off before you fall asleep.”

“Do I need to keep my eyes open?”

“I think it’ll be okay.”

You go back to snoozing. Aaron rubs the mascara from your eyes until the cloth comes away clean, tiny gentle brushes of the cloth wrapped around his knuckle. It activates something deep within him to get to take care of you. He’s not sure if it’s masculinity or pride or love, but it feels good. He wishes he could do these things for you more often.

From there he wipes your face clean. He can’t imagine you’ll want to wash your face when you do finally get home, so he soaks a cotton round with the slim bottle of toner he often sees you using on stolen mornings or nights where he’s not supposed to be in your room, and he rubs that over each plane of your face with long, careful strokes. You turn your head when he encourages it but otherwise don’t move.

“There,” he says, more for himself than you as he wraps the dirtied round in your cloth, hiding both in your dark wash bag.

Your fingernails trail gently up the outside of his thigh. Your face swerves down into his shoulder, still tacky. “Thank you, Aaron,” you say. Aaron, and not Hotch.

“Don’t blame me if you break out,” he says, his lips against your crown.

It is definitely love.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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rileyslibrary · 1 year ago

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You have a few questions about Ghost’s mask and he has some answers. (platonic, self-indulgent banter)

———————————————————————

You sit side by side outside the medic’s office, waiting for your physical exams. You’ve both just returned from a mission, and it’s standard procedure for all personnel to undergo routine checks upon returning to the base. ‘It’s the protocol’, they said. Boring shit.

Adjusting your shirt, you recline on the chair, glancing at Ghost’s back. He’s slouching, elbows on his knees, fingers interlocked together. He turns to his left, looking at something you’re not interested in paying attention to right now.

He’s fascinating.

“Did you make it yourself?” You ask, nodding towards him.

He doesn’t hear you. That, or he pretends he doesn’t do so. You gently nudge his knee with yours to get his attention. He turns over his shoulder, his eyes locking with yours.

“The mask,” you say, pointing at him, then gesturing to your face, “did you make it yourself?”

He keeps staring at you, but not in the same way when he first turned towards you. It’s more ominous now, like a sign in the middle of the road warning you that there’s been an accident ahead. You don’t know what that accident entails, or what you will face if you get closer. Is it a truck that spilt yellow dye all over the road? Is it a major crash with casualties? Do you want to find out?

Yes. Yes, you do.

“I just think it’s neat.” You say, shrugging.

His eyes linger on you for a few more seconds until they end up traveling from your head to your waist. He finally looks away.

You keep staring at the side of his face, studying it; there’s a faint outline of an ear, a barely visible jawline, the skull plate sewn on his painted balaclava.

“Does it get clammy in there?” You ask again, this time louder.

You know he heard you, but he doesn’t turn to look at you this time. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising, and so does his head. He closes his eyes, and with a long exhale, he lets it all out. He stretches his neck to the left and then to the right.

“What is it that you wanna know?” He asks.

“You never removed it during our mission, not one single time,” you explain. “Got me wondering if you ever take it off, that’s all.”

He lets out an almost inaudible chuckle; it’s so quiet that you can’t hear it, but you can see his shoulders rise and fall. He slowly shakes his head as he gazes down at the floor. Hopefully, it’s a genuine reaction and not just an attempt to release the tension building up.

He straightens himself, sliding back in his seat before reclining. His shoulders press against yours, and you make room for him as much as possible. It almost feels like he’s intentionally expanding his presence; otherwise, he might have been more considerate with his posture. On the other hand, so would you with all the drilling.

“I, too, wonder about you.” He says.

“About what?” You ask.

“Whether you ever stop talking.” He replies, turning to look at you.

“I have questions.” You explain as your eyes drift to his right ear.

“I can tell,” He says and gestures for you to go ahead. “Let’s hear ��em.”

You straighten up and twist your upper body towards him.

“Ok, so,” you begin and clasp your hands together. “How does the medic check your ears if you keep them covered?”

“My ears are just fine.” He responds almost too quickly.

“How do you know?”

“I keep listening to you, don’t I?” he replies. “It’s my nerves that need checking.”

“Why?”

“Cause I keep listening to you.” He repeats. “Anything else?”

“What about your mouth?” You ask. “What if they need to check that during the examination?”

“I’m sure you’d manage that for both of us,” he replies as he leans further back, resting his head on the wall. “Since yours rarely stays closed.”

“Is that so, Lt.?”

He shuts his eyes and slowly nods.

“Do you have an answer for everything?” You ask.

“Do you want to find out?”

“Do I?”

“Do you?” He says, opening his eyes and looking straight at you.

You open your mouth to say something but decide against it. You close it and twist your body to the front, yet you can feel his eyes burning through the back of your head.

“You forgot the nose.” He says.

“What?”

“The nostrils.” He explains. “You asked about almost every single orifice in the human body except the nostrils and the arsehole, for Christ’s sake.”

“Do they check those?”

“Only if you have allergies,” he replies. “Or an infection.”

“Allergies in the arse?” You joke. “Never heard of that.”

“No,” he says, pointing at you. “Pain in the arse.”

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley x gn reader #simon riley #call of duty #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley fanfiction #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost call of duty

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myownwholewildworld · 3 months ago

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uniformed!joel one shot - the police officer - part ii

part i | series masterlist | main masterlist

pairing: police officer!joel x f!reader.

summary: what? you really thought officer miller was done with you? 🙄 don't be so naive. he's going to make good use of that cell he's thrown you in.

a/n: am i a rabid dog who needs to be put down? yes i am. you'll find me taking a walk and touching some grass because oh boy 🥵 please enjoy part ii to police officer!joel. as always, all interactions are welcome! i'd love some feedback if you feel like sharing. yea, that's everything i gotta say, i'll go hide under a rock now. thank you for reading! <3

warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. dark theme. a hella lot of unhealthy smut. dub-con. age gap, no age gap, you choose (joel is mid-late 40s, reader is at least of legal drinking age). power imbalance (joel is a cop). object insertion (oopsie 🥴). fingering. squirting. oral (m and f receiving). strong sub/dom vibes. mouth fucking. slut shaming. cheating. reader talks to boyfriend while being drilled. unprotected piv. creampie. overall, rough, filthy sex. joel is a bully and a dick, basically, so be warned. alternating pov. no description of reader apart from having hair that can be pulled. not proofread so i'm sorry.

w/c: ~7.7k (someone put me down, seriously).

tagging some people who seemed interested in part 2 (please let me know if you want to be removed, no pressure!):

@cestlavieinrenaissance @ijustlovemensm @fartcloudfartcloud

Joel looked through the rearview mirror. You were sat on the middle seat of his cruiser, silent and with your gaze down. You almost looked like you regretted what had happened, but he knew you had actually enjoyed it. Your slutty moans and your squirting cunt spoke for yourself ― the proof of your ecstasy still staining his uniform’s trousers.

He adjusted the mirror, paying more attention to you than to the road. Luckily, it was well past midnight, so there were not many cars around. You had parted your legs, probably on purpose, and gifted him with the sight of your tight pussy. Joel wished the interior of the car was better lit, so he could have a good look at your cunt.

Ah, yes, he knew you wanted more. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be exposing yourself like that to him. His cock twitched at the memory of being clamped down on by your narrow pussy, deeply buried in between your puffy lips. Joel bit the inside of his cheek, focusing his eyes on the road ahead.

“Is my cum spilling out of your hole?”, he broke the silence.

You felt the guilt eating you up. You shouldn’t have pushed Officer Miller’s buttons like that. You blamed the last drops of alcohol running through your veins that had distorted your reality ― as soon as they disappeared from your system, you had realised that you didn’t want what was about to happen. However, your body had betrayed you, reacting to him and his provocations.

I’m not a cheater. I’m not a whore, you chanted, keeping the tears at bay.

But deep inside, you knew you were just lying to yourself. You blamed your body, but the reality was you did enjoy it ― all of it, everything he gave you, everything he took from you. You had never been so turned on in your life ― never squirted before, never had your pussy eaten so filthily from behind, never been used like that.

You pursed your lips, eyes down and still daydreaming about him fucking you senseless ― you unsuccessfully attempted to erase those hot flashes that your mind was trying to take you back to. Unconsciously, your legs had relaxed with your train of thought, and that was when you heard Officer Miller’s question.

You jumped in your seat and pressed your knees together, suddenly very conscious of your pussy. You could feel you had gotten wet again at the mere thought of him jackhammering into your cunt on top of the hood. Once more, you felt betrayed ― you didn’t want to feel like this, you didn’t want to be this horny for him.

You slowly nodded in reply, ashamed of yourself ― your unwelcomed slick dragging his cum out of you. But you wouldn’t tell him that, you wouldn’t let him know that your hole was crying for more.

“I― I think I’m making a mess of the upholstery. Sorry.”

Why did your voice sound so high-pitched, so moany? You needed to get a grip of yourself or you were going to end up impaled again. You kept your eyes down, avoiding his ― tears of frustration gathering on your waterlines.

“Only with my cum? Or are you gushing again, doll?”, he questioned with a husky voice.

You knew he was getting horny again ― your nipples reacted to that thought, wrinkling suddenly, your breathing accelerating.

You shyly looked up at him, your gazes meeting on the rearview mirror. His eyes pierced through you and you felt exposed ― there was no point in denying it, you knew he knew. So you nodded again with watery eyes.

“Yes, sorry”, you apologised, although you were not sure why.

“Yes what?”, he insisted, his attention dancing between the road and you.

“I’m― I’m gushing”, you replied in a very low whisper, so abashed a tear ran down your cheek.

Officer Miller didn’t say a word for the rest of the trip to the station, so you had more than enough time to dwell in your embarrassment.

Joel’s horniness was clouding his mind to a dangerous degree, so he summoned all his strength to drive the damn car instead of stopping in the middle of nowhere to fuck you again. After fifteen eternal minutes, he braked as he steered into the parking lot of the station. Then the cruiser came to a halt.

He had to cup his swollen bulge, kneading it a bit, in the hopes it wouldn’t be too noticeable. What a little minx you were, confessing your pussy was leaking all over the seat. You were acting all sheepish now, guilt-ridden, but Joel knew what you really wished for. And that was getting your cunt drilled again.

Walking out of the car, Joel got to the back door and opened it up for you. He extended his hand to help you out of the car, all gentlemanly. But when you grabbed it indecisively, he hauled you out of his Crown Vic. You gasped at his brutish manners, but quickly closed your mouth when your breasts pressed against his chest.

Joel hurried his hand down, riding up your skirt a bit, his fingertips caressing your inner thighs. You looked at him, a mix of surprise and shame, when he dipped his fingers in your silky slit. He moved them up and down a couple of times, buttering your fold with your discharge and his cum. You panted at his contact and your forehead leaned against his chest as if your neck was unable to support the weight of your head anymore.

You were so receptive to his touch, Joel had to control himself. If he could, he would turn you around, bend you over and fuck into your hole until dawn. But another patrol car entered the parking lot, stopping a few metres away. He scoffed in frustration, reluctantly removing his hand from in between your legs.

Stop, don’t, please stop, you wanted to tell him.

But the words never abandoned your mouth, stuck in the back of your throat. His fingers stroked you so intimately, so good, you couldn’t muster the strength to stop him. And, if you were completely honest with yourself, deep down you hoped he didn’t. When his digits traced your whole damp furrow, you tilted your head towards him ― your lips pressed against the pocket where he had kept your panties, in an attempt to mute the moan that wanted to slip out of your mouth.

And then he unburied his hand, leaving you spiralling down with lust. You whimpered, vexed. Your eyes were still half-lidded with desire, your mouth agape. Officer Miller took a step back, breaking all physical contact with you.

“You really are a harlot”, he muttered while the hand that had explored your pussy dipped in his pants, and you knew he was spreading your gush all over his cock. That should have disgusted you, and it did, but your pussy fluttered in response.

“Please don’t say that, and don’t do that again”, you were finally able to find your words.

He cocked a brow while taking out his hand of his trousers. You didn’t look down, although you wanted to. The thought of him wet with your tacky cum destroyed a few neurons in your brain.

“Your mouth says no, but your cunt says yes. And I believe your cunt more than I believe your mouth”, he announced, unbothered by your petition.

Then he rolled down your skirt, grabbed you by the elbow, and forced you to walk in front of him. But first Officer Miller got something out of the passenger’s seat ―your purse and the paperwork― before he pushed you towards the station with your hands still cuffed.

You pondered your options when the female officer on the counter greeted Officer Miller.

“Hey Joel, another drunken bird?”, she asked, her blue eyes ignoring you completely.

“Yeah, that’s a Saturday for ya”, he said boringly, his fingers still sinking in the flesh of your elbow while he handed her your license and insurance.

“I’ll book her in for you”, said the woman, looking down at the paperwork spread on her desk.

You wanted to say something, to ask her not to leave you alone with him, to tell her what had happened. But what were you going to say, really? That you actually enjoyed being fucked stupid on top of his cruiser’s hood? That you were still wet, the dampness in your fold begging to be licked again?

While still debating, you felt Officer Miller ―now you knew his name was Joel― staring at you. He probably suspected what you were thinking, it was like he could smell fear. You dropped your eyes to inspect your bare feet, silently letting him know that you wouldn’t say a word. If you had had a peek at him, you would have seen his sly grin.

“All the cells here are full, you’ll have to go to the adjacent building, I’m afraid.” You thought the female officer winked at him.

“That’s alright. Thank you, darlin’”, he smiled at her before pushing you in front of him. “C’mon, move.”

You shambled towards the backdoor, walked out and then Joel― Officer Miller opened the door to the secondary building. You entered with him on your heels. His body was so close to yours, you felt a pleasant tingling start on your neck that shot down your spine. You cockled your lips, disappointed in yourself.

The room was not too big, it only housed four cells, all of them empty. The only decoration was a wooden desk with a chair for a police officer to be stationed. There was also a small room at the end, which had a unisex bathroom sign on its door.

You didn’t like how isolated it felt in there ― you had hoped there would be someone else in there with you. To stop him, to stop yourself. You really were out of luck.

Officer Miller pushed you to the furthest cell in the room. “Stay”, he commanded while he uncuffed you, then grabbed the keys off a metal hook, unlocked the cell and opened the door for you. “Be my guest, doll”, his tone was so snide.

You simply obeyed with averted eyes. Maybe if you didn’t look at him, your pussy would stop palpitating. You could still feel his fingers buried in your tacky slit, your clit begging to be paid attention. He had left you so unsatisfied, your brain kept going back to the moment he ate your cunt from behind. You shuddered, conscious that you had to stop daydreaming about it.

“Now be a good slut and finish what I have started. I know your pussy is asking for it”, his voice rumbled under his breath, locking the cell behind you. Officer Miller dropped your purse on the table and unsheathed his gun to leave it there too. Slowly he turned and sat down on the chair, conveniently positioned in front of your cell.

You shook your head no with teary eyes. Teary not because you were afraid, but because you really wanted to ― frustration corroding your vaginal nerve endings. Your clit twitched as you sat down on the wooden bench, looking away from him.

“You’ll give in, sooner rather than later, I bet.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Officer Miller manspreading on the chair, a hand slipping under his belt. His gaze was transfixed on you while he touched himself. You turned your head towards the wall, your clit lit on fire at the mere thought of him jerking off in front of you.

You pressed your knees together, looking for some relief and finding none. You tried not to but ended up whimpering in frustration. Joel was right ― you gave in. Your eyes welled up with shame and lust as you discreetly hid your hands between your parted legs. You caressed your clit with your index and then traced the entirety of your fold, a wave of pleasure washing over you.

His groan made you look askance in his direction. Joel had freed his cock through the zipper of his uniform trousers and was pumping himself. The sight of his veiny cock made your mouth run dry. Then you noticed he had something tied around his veiny dick. You had to take a second look, this time with no furtiveness, to see what it was.

He had wrapped your wet panties around his manhood and was rubbing himself with it. You couldn’t contain your whoring moan any longer after that. The vision of him masturbating with your underwear almost strangling his cock sent you in a spiral of desire ― you were, once again, out of control.

Two fingers slipped in your dripping opening while your thumb stroked your clit, this time more intently. Leaning your head back against the brick wall, you closed your eyes, whimpering like a bitch in heat as your digits picked up a reckless pace between your legs. Your breathing intensified, coming in and out in short bursts. Your cunt was so drenched that every time you pushed your fingers inside of you, wet, sucking sounds quickly followed each thrust.

Lava was pooling in your overstimulated furrow, your whole sex so slick your fingers slid in and out easily. Then you felt it: the climbing to the climax and then the falling. You screamed, bending over yourself, as the orgasm hit you hard, very hard. You dropped to your knees on the floor while you felt your insides melting, your inner walls trying to squeeze something that wasn’t there. Your clit convulsed one last time, a moan tearing through your throat as you looked up, eyes closed, imploring to the heavens.

You had not noticed but Joel had stood up and was right in front of you, his dick poking in between the bars ― your panties still wrapped around the base of his cock. He was whacking off with a tight grip, his hips slanted forward. “Come over here, right now”, he emphasized.

His cock had you mesmerised, it was calling you. You wanted to suck him so badly, that you mewled as you crawled towards him.

Joel gritted his teeth at the scene. You moved towards him on all fours, panting and whimpering. You were such a hot mess his cock pulsated in his hand. When you were close to the bars, you straightened your back and sat on your heels, awaiting permission. Joel grinned at the sight ― he fucking knew you would cave in. Sliding a hand in the space between the bars, he placed it on the back of your head while resting his pelvis against the metal rods.

“Open wide”, he croaked with lechery, his mind somewhere far away.

His throbbing cock hurt like hell when you parted your lips and sticked your tongue out, your eyes still damp and your eyeliner running down your cheeks. Joel fisted your hair in a ponytail and pulled it back, so your face was up. He spit in your mouth, deranged with lust, and then swiftly drove his dick down your mouth until your bottom lip was touching his hairy balls.

He held you there for an eternal minute, rejoicing in the wetness of your cavity while you simply choked on his cock. Tears sprung to your eyes at the intrusion, he was way too far down your throat. But did he care? No, he was just chasing his own release. Holding your head in place so you wouldn't go anywhere, he bobbed his waist back and forth, fucking your mouth as deep and fast as he could go.

You probably did it on purpose to drive him crazy, but your lips pressed around his girth as you tried to slurp all the fluids. You would gag from time to time, especially when he would force your head close to him, but you didn't turn away.

Joel looked down as he used your mouth as he pleased. Your eyes were all watery because of the deep intrusion, your lips rubbing against his skin, your palms against your knees as if you were all innocent.

Joel only tugged you back to free his dick when he felt your neck muscles contract, announcing you were close to throwing up.

God, how much he loved your mouth. The mouth of a whore.

You heaved, trying to catch a breath, fighting your gag reflex as much as you could. Your eyes met his. His pupils swirled with lust and that scared you.

Do I really want this?, you asked yourself again, unsure of the answer. You didn’t and did at the same time ― you couldn’t stop yourself. It was like you had lost your freewill and just turned into his plaything, letting him do with you as he deemed. You had succumbed to Officer Miller ― there was no point in fighting back, your own body was betraying you, getting wet in all the wrong places. Maybe if he finished quickly, he would let you be.

You looked up at him when he pushed you closer to his erection again. He was so ruthless ― with no care in the world, Joel dug his pulsing cock down your mouth again, the glans suffocating you once more and the fabric of your underwear tingling your nose. You unconsciously tried to clear your throat, suppressing a cough. Your bottom lip trembled because of how wide your jaw had stretched to house him. Your spit and his precum pooled in your mouth, dribbling down from your chin to your cleavage. You felt the trickle going down in between your boobs and wetting your top.

Joel grinned as he swept away a tear with his thumb.

“Now eat it like you mean it, like the slut you are”, he croaked.

Joel let go of your hair, both of his hands gripping the metal rods that separated you.

You pulled back to catch a breath and swallowed all the fluids that had accumulated in your mouth. Officer Miller was eyeing you expectantly, his dick twitching in front of you each time blood rushed through it. You broke visual contact to focus on his warm cock.

Without thinking, your fingers wrapped around his thick column and started pumping him while your tongue tapped the tip. His groan spurred you on, so you sucked on his glans like if you were a babe breastfeeding. From time to time, you would run your lips down his length, tracing the pulsating vein that fed his erection. By how his hips would sway every time you did that, you knew he loved it.

And so you repeated it, over and over again. Smother the tip, slide your lips down his cock, gently nibble and suck on his balls, and then back up ― your tongue sticking out while licking his shaft until you sealed his glans between your lips again.

Your body had a mind of its own, because your index found your clit again and caressed it softly. The core of your pleasure was heating up again ― your leaking entrance contracted suddenly when the lust reached a higher peak. You moaned with his dick in your mouth, eyes closed, as you fingered yourself unashamedly.

Then you felt it ― a hard pulsation in his cock, announcing he was close. Officer Miller tried to pull back so he wouldn’t come, but you were having none of it. You neglected your pulsing clit, threaded your arms between the bars and placed each hand on his butt cheeks. You forced him forward, pressing your palms against his ass, so he would be locked in place while your wanton mouth took him in as far down as you could.

You didn’t let him go and with a harsh, deep moan, Joel came in your mouth. His hot cum flowed in bursts and clogged your throat, almost asphyxiating you ― but you still didn’t let go. Your eyes were fixed on his, although he wasn’t looking ― Joel had closed his eyes to fully feel his orgasm, his hips still swaying back and forth in your mouth with the last wave of his release.

He fucking knew it. You were so hungry for him, you would even force an orgasm on him. His knuckles were all white due to the force he was using to grip the metal rods. His jaw was so clenched, he thought he might have chipped a tooth. When Joel regained control of his muscles again, he looked down at you and smirked.

“Aren’t you a little bitch, eh? You think because you’ve made me come a second time, I’m not gonna fuck that tight, tiny hole of yours? Well, you’re in for a treat”, he said matter-of-factly.

He just needed a bit of time to have an erection again. And, in the meantime, he was going to have fun with your body. A lot of fun.

Joel moved back his hips so his cock slid out of your mouth. In the process of doing so, a trickle of cum ran down the corner of your mouth. He quickly grabbed his shaft and with the tip, he gathered the cum off your skin and pushed it back between your lips. When you opened your mouth to collect his cum, he noticed you hadn’t swallowed.

“You gulp my cum down right now or else”, he demanded, inserting his dick in your mouth to help you keep it closed.

You tried to explain. “I’ve never don―”, you enunciated the words as you best could, your mouth still full with his spent and his cock.

He grunted, annoyed. “I don’t fucking care, don’t waste a drop of what I’ve given you. A good slut eats what is fed to her.”

Even though he was treating you like shit, your body got aroused at his words. Why? Stop, you begged to yourself, imploring for the gushing between your legs to disappear.

Joel glanced down at you with a cocked brow, awaiting. He wasn’t joking, he really meant it. So you swallowed ― twice, because there were still remnants of his sperm lingering in your mouth. You had never had anyone come in your mouth before ― let alone swallow it. It didn’t taste like you had expected it though ― it was warm and sweet, so smooth it just slid down your oesophagus without effort.

He literally had just used you like if you were his personal glory hole. You should feel ashamed of yourself ― and you did, very much so. But right now, your lust was greater than your shame. And the proof was on the floor between your knees: there was a small puddle, your fluids right there for him to see.

Oh, and he saw.

“Such a whore, you’re dripping like a broken pipe. Aren’t you embarrassed of yourself?”, he asked into the void.

You just whimpered, maddened with unspent passion. Your clit was still twitching, your opening palpitating. Had you not had enough embarrassment already? You had come five times, and you still needed more. Officer Miller was right ― you were a whore. You circled your clit, your eyes fixed on his, almost begging him to help you out.

“Don’t worry, doll, I ain’t done with you yet. Turn around”, he ordered you.

You blinked at him, unsure if he was to be trusted. A voice inside your head screamed at you not to, but you ignored it. You were so horny, you just wanted the fire within you to be extinguished.

You let a soft cry escape your lips as you obeyed his command ― you were on all your fours, your ass cheeks resting against the metal bars, your puffed-up pussy completely exposed to him. You heard him kneel behind you before cupping your whole cunt with the span of his palm, rubbing it delicately.

“Will you look at that? Obedient like a bitch in heat. With a red, swollen pussy, all ready for me to play with”, he laughed at you while you simply bleated, shaking your head yes at his words, uninhibited.

Joel suddenly slapped your cunt so hard, your arms failed you and ended up in a knee-chest position, your ass up in the air for him. “Ouch!”, you let go, your cheek resting against the concrete on the floor.

A cold, rubbery texture kissed your pussy lips and you lifted your head over your shoulder to see what it was. Joel was wielding the nightstick that was attached to his belt a second ago ― he lodged it between your damp flaps, moving it up and down to wet it with your discharge. You moaned, really moaned out loud, knowing what was about to happen.

With your forehead against the concrete floor, you closed your eyes with pure satisfaction when Joel started penetrating you with the baton. Your nails scratched the hard surface underneath, your very curated manicure ruined. Officer Miller pushed in a few more inches, your flesh parting to house the stick. And then, abruptly, you wailed in pain as the end of the nightstick kissed your cervix rather harshly.

You saw stars behind your eyes and tried to push away.

“No, doll, no. Stay put for me”, his free hand rested on the small of your back, keeping you in place.

You remained still for a minute, while you adjusted to such deep intrusion. The pain had been very intense, but it started wearing off as Joel spun the nightstick around in your hole. After a while, you finally relaxed and the cop resumed, pumping the baton in and out of you slowly. Then his hand drifted down from your lower back to your quivering clit and he kneaded the right spot expertly.

You whined, the pleasure so overwhelming it brought tears to your eyes again. You fluttered your eyelashes to clear your vision, your mouth open wide, your breathing irregular. Your womanly cave clutched onto the nightstick, all wet and sensitive. You could feel your heartbeat on your cunt, pulsating so hard it was maddening. His thumb pressed circles on your clit and you sobbed audibly, your orgasm so close you were on the verge of the precipice.

Then a phone went off, you were barely conscious of it ringing until Joel stopped what he was doing and stood up.

“No, please, please, Joel please”, you begged, almost crying, wanting to come so badly.

He left you there, on all your fours and with this baton sticking out of your weeping cunt, almost fully inserted.

“Ah, look, Sweetie is calling you. Bet he’s all worried about you”, he chuckled walking towards you, your cell phone on his hand. He had also taken something from your purse, but you couldn’t see what before he put it in his pocket. “Pick up and pretend you’re not having the best sex of your life.”

He put the phone on speaker and left it by your head. Your mind raced with panic, a very tight knot forming in your throat. This made it too real; you were really cheating on who you thought was the love of your life. And what was worst, you were cheating on him and enjoying it like the slut you were.

“Hey, honey? Are you okay?”, your boyfriend said.

“H―Hi, sweetie. Yeah, I’m fine”, you managed to reply with a steady voice.

Then Joel started jackhammering you with the baton relentlessly, so hard it forced you to close your eyes. Your moist pussy compressed so tightly around the rubbery stick, you had to cover your mouth to stop a moan from coming out.

“Where are you? I thought you’d be back like an hour ago”, he inquired, noticeably worried.

“I… I am in a nightclub, just walked out when I saw you calling”, you lied through your teeth. Joel cackled behind you while his thumb caressed your clit again, putting a sweet amount of pressure on it. “Ah, mhmmm… I should be back home in… uhmmmm… like an hour maybe?”, you bit your bottom lip, soft moans slipping out.

“You sure you’re okay? You sound weird, honey”, your boyfriend insisted.

Joel picked up a very fast pace with the baton, drilling you with it so hard the climax was fast approaching. Your whole body was rocked back and forth with the strength of his thrusts. Your clit melting at his suggestive touch.

“Yes, I drank a bit, mhmmmm… that’s all. I’ll get a taaaahmmh-xi back. Gotta go”, you talked fast, wanting to get the words out before you wailed. You managed to cover your mouth again just in time.

“Okay, take care, honey. I love you.”

At that point, the end of the baton kissed your cervix again but this time it pushed you over the edge. You had the biggest contraction of your life, your angry pussy trying to break the nightstick inside you. You came so hard, you squirted so much it almost looked like you had pissed yourself ― the puddle on the floor had grown considerably. Your eyes welled up, your creamy pussy fluttering, and your clit still writhing. You bit into your hand to suppress the loudest, sluttiest moan of your life.

“Honey?”, your boyfriend said, weirded out by the fact you hadn’t said it back as you always did.

Your orgasm was still washing over you. “Love you too”, you whispered, so guilt-ridden you wiped away some shameful tears from your cheeks.

Then he hung up.

“Oh wow, this is what love looks like to you? I almost feel sorry for the guy”, he made fun of you as he got up, the nightstick still inserted in your pussy. “Up”, he instructed you.

You had nothing to say, because you deserved his pun. There was no denying you were enjoying yourself a little bit too much. With a defeated sigh, tired of fighting your inner battle, you stood up with trembling knees. Your legs felt so wobbly you had to hold on to the bars.

Officer Miller dangled the keys in his hands before opening the door of the cell. For a second you thought that was it, he was done, even though he said he wasn’t a few minutes ago. But when he walked in front of you with his cock poking out the zipper of his uniformed pants, you knew he wasn’t.

Disappointment but also excitement came over you.

“Walk towards the bench. Get up on it on all your fours, doll.” He guided you to the farthest corner of the cell, where it was dark and hidden away in case someone interrupted.

It was like he knew all the blind spots. Had he done this before with someone else? A pang of jealousy tugged at your belly. You’re not the only one, you told yourself.

Completely surrendered to his desires ―and your own―, you followed his lead and did has he commanded. Once you were in the position he wanted you in, he walked to your side and nudged your cheek with the warm, tacky head of his cock.

“Give it a kiss, show me some gratitude”, he husked in a rumbling, raspy tone.

You turned your head ninety degrees and kissed the tip. He still had your panties wrapped around his erection. Licking your bottom lip, your eyes locked on his. A wide grin spread on his face. The motherfucker looked like a goddamn god when he smiled like that, dimples on his cheeks.

“Suck on it like if it was your personal pacifier, darlin’.”

Your tongue twirled around the plump tip as he finally took the baton out of your quivering pussy. You gasped at the emptiness you suddenly felt, his glans caressing your palate. Remembering your order, you quickly sealed your lips around the head of his cock and sucked on it, never breaking eye contact. The tip of your tongue tried to wiggle its way down his slit, slightly parting it and making him groan deeply.

You kept up the work with your smothering lips as one of Joel’s hands travelled down your back, briefly caressing one of your butt cheeks, to then cup your silky cunt. His fingers dipped in your welcoming slit, so velvety they slid up and down with no resistance whatsoever. He rubbed you softly while you worked diligently to make him hard again. One of his fingertips tempted you by getting lost in your needy hole, but he quickly removed it.

“C’mon, let’s get your wanton pussy ready again to ride some cock”, Officer Miller stepped back, his now hard cock slipping out of your mouth.

He walked around the bench and knelt behind you, your pulsing cunt perfectly lined up with his eye level. His mouth hovered over your ass cheek and then bit into your flesh ― his teeth marks were going to be there tomorrow, but that was not your main worry right now.

With no previous warning, he spread your cunt open and licked it from the clit to the perineum in one long, sweet stroke. You swooned at the feeling, half-lidded eyes and pursed lips. Moaning again, Officer Miller ate your pussy masterly while fisting himself, his tongue lingering in the right spots. He then taunted your clit while he fingered you slowly, his fingertip rubbing your g-spot.

Joel alternated his finger and the tip of his tongue to intrude in your opening. It felt delicious, his wetness mixing with yours. His hooked nose would get trapped in your slit when his mouth dropped to attend to your needy clit ― you heard him inhale your scent with no shame, dragging his nose in your silky fold as his mouth returned to your shaking entrance.

Officer Miller really knew how to eat pussy, so much so you would dream about his mouth feasting on your cunt every single night for the foreseeable future. Probably every single day too.

Your breaths quickened, fire melting your insides, your clit so sensitive you didn’t know if it was painful or delightful. You felt like you were about to ride the biggest wave of your life ― and then he stopped, standing up.

Frustrated sobs left your lips, almost mewling ― your pussy begging for release.

Your inner battle had been silent for a while, but came back with full force when you felt Joel’s cock lodged between your tumescent flaps, dousing himself with the product of your pleasure. He waved his hips against you, his dick skidding through your gushing furrow with ease.

He was going to fuck you again.

You tensed up, but you should have known this was coming. You didn’t want to cheat on your boyfriend again. Cheat for real, that was. Penetration was where you had marked the invisible line in your mind between cheating and just messing around.

Touching yourself while thinking of Joel’s cock? Not cheating.

Sucking his dick like a thirsty, panting dog? Not cheating.

Letting him fuck you with his nightstick? Not cheating.

Talking to your boyfriend while another man made you come? Not cheating.

Getting your pussy blissfully eaten from behind? Not cheating.

Him fucking you senseless with his cock? Definitely cheating.

You knew it sounded stupid, but your mind was really making an effort to make you feel a bit less guilty about what was happening.

You did not want this. Yes, you had messed around with him at first, but once your bravado abandoned you, you realised you did not want this.

Right? Right? Or at least you tried to convince yourself of it.

“No, wait”, you whispered when the tip of his throbbing cock kissed your dripping entrance.

Joel slid his drumming cock between your soaked folds, wetting himself. His mind spiralling down with desire, with lust. He took a moment to revel in the feeling of having his dick sweetly sheathed by your sodden lips.

Then he lined up the head of his thrumming dick with your drenched opening. When he heard your infuriating petition, he just cocked a brow. No, you were not going to deny him that, not after all the effort he had put into making you come over and over again. Your denial angered him.

“What a selfish slut you are”, he muttered furiously between gritted teeth before impaling you in one deep thrust ― his hips entirely flush against your pussy, his cock buried as far as it could go.

You moaned like the bitch you were and rolled your hips back into him, your trembling cunt hugging his cock.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought”, he murmured, still mad at you.

How fucking dared you tell him no? You were such an ungrateful bitch. He wasn't going to take no for an answer, not when you had been enticing him all night.

Joel spanked your ass hard, and you whimpered ― the palm of his hand leaving a red imprint on your skin. “You’re a whore. Say it out loud.”

“I am a whore, I am. I’m such a slut for you, Officer”, you wailed, bouncing your hips back and forth while he stayed still, fucking yourself with his dick.

Your neediness mildly soothed his anger, but not enough.

He slapped your ass again before grasping your hips to keep you in place, then Joel started fucking you as hard and as fast as he could, rutting into your tight hole mercilessly. His mind was just blank as the orgasm started to build within him ― the muscles in his lower tummy tensing, his balls contracting, his cock pulsating to the rhythm of his heartbeat. This was heaven, your pussy was.

He kept drilling you relentlessly, your whines growing louder and deeper, meeting his thrusts by pushing back your hips into him. The pace was so diabolical, your back arched, almost resting against his chest in a half-standing position. His broad hands left your waist and travelled up to hold your boobs while he perforated you, the carnal sound of flesh colliding against flesh filling the room.

Joel suddenly stopped, sliding out, and you whimpered, not wanting to be left unsatisfied again. You didn’t see what he was doing until he stuffed your mouth with your panties and covered your mouth with his hand, inserting his dick back into you unceremoniously.

“Don’t scream so loud or they are going to hear you. And I don’t want you to get me into trouble, understand?”, he threatened, resuming the plunging of his throbbing cock into your wanton cunt.

You just nodded, biting down on your underwear, while he fucked you stupid. So hard, so fast, so filthy, you couldn’t take it anymore. Your muffled moans announced your next climax, your pussy clamping down on his pulsating cock.

You both came undone at the same time, his hand still over your lips as Joel’s warm spent filled you up for the second time tonight. It came out of him in waves, both of your sexes beating in harmony.

Sweaty and tired, Joel let go of your mouth to move his hand down to slap your clit harshly. You whimpered, your clit so oversensitive it twitched one last time, making you come again. You bent over, resting your weight on your hands, as Officer Miller remained inside you for a few minutes, you cockwarming him with no complaints.

Suddenly hearing the ripping of plastic, you looked over your shoulder to see how he opened the packaging of a tampon with his teeth. And then, before you could think, he took his soft erection out of you and immediately inserted the tampon in your leaking hole, using it as if it was a vaginal plug to contain his semen inside you.

“Do not even think about taking it out until at least tomorrow. Understood?”, you nodded frantically, feeling slightly humiliated, but you didn’t say a word.

Joel pulled down your skirt and then placed the palm of his hand in front of your mouth. You spit your messy panties on his palm and he put them back in his pocket. You didn't bother asking for them this time, you knew he wouldn't give them back. And, weirdly enough, you wanted him to keep them.

You sat down on the bench with him standing in front of you. You looked up at him, your eyeliner all smeared on your cheeks. Your lips were swollen of eating so much dick.

“I think you’ve learnt your lesson now, right, doll?”, he asked with a smile, sweeping away the tears on one of your cheeks with his thumb. The gesture was almost sweet and caring.

You nodded again, wholly submitted to him. “Yes, Officer.”

“Good girl. Now go clean yourself up in that bathroom over there. I’ll take you home so your poor little boyfriend doesn’t worry about you”, he chuckled as you got up and hid in the small restroom.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. You definitely had gotten more than what you had bargained for. But as much as you wanted to blame Officer Miller for everything that happened tonight, you knew you had been asking for it. With a heavy sigh and out of tears, you washed your face, your thighs and your sensitive pussy.

Once you walked out of the toilet, all semi-decent again, you saw Joel leaning against the wooden table, arms crossed at his chest. When you approached, he got up. His frame was so broad with square shoulders, his biceps flexing in that uniform, you kind of understood yourself for giving in to temptation. He was something else. Maybe it was the uniform, maybe not, but there was something about him that made your pussy melt for him.

Forgetting him and this night was going to be a herculean task. Would your boyfriend ever live up to him? Even to a shadow of what Joel had given you?

You halted in front of him. As if you were his, he dropped a hand in between your legs, his fingertips looking for your now clean hole. You separated your legs slightly to give him access without remonstrance.

He smiled at you sufficiently when he noticed the tampon was still in you, just as he had commanded.

“Good girl”, he muttered, gently caressing your clit as a reward for your good behaviour.

Against all odds, you smiled back at him, swooning at his praise.

You did the journey back home on the passenger’s seat of Joel’s Crown Vic. From time to time he would check the tampon was still in its rightful place, stroking your clit in the process. Had your hole been unplugged, you would have leaked on the upholstery again.

You both remained silent ― your mind racing with thoughts, trying to come to terms with what you had done.

What were you going to do? Were you going to confess to your boyfriend? Would you keep it a secret? Joel had fucked you so good, you thought you would never enjoy sex with anyone else.

Damn, your mind was a tangled mess. But you blamed it on his tentative finger, still stroking your clit.

The cruiser stopped and you looked at the building in front of you. You had arrived at your destination. Joel removed the hand from your fold and you sighed, gripping the handle.

But before you opened the door, you looked at Officer Miller.

“Will I ever…?”, you didn’t finish your question because he was eyeing you with amusement, his pupils flickering with fun.

“G’night, doll.”

Had you just been rejected? It felt like it, because it stung real bad. You pressed your lips together and, without another word, you exited the car and ran to the safety of your flat.

You entered as silently as you could. You got to the restroom and changed your clothes ―or what remained of them― for your pyjama, throwing everything in the washer. Tiptoeing towards the bed, you saw your boyfriend sleeping on his side.

Guilt and embarrassment ate at you, but you kept them at bay. You were tired, only wanting to go to bed ― tomorrow would be a new day. Pushing those thoughts away, you slid under the bedsheets and stayed on your side of the bed.

A minute later, your boyfriend turned around and hugged your waist, spooning you.

“Hi, honey. Did you have fun tonight?”

His question stabbed at your heart.

“Yeah, it was good seeing the girls.”

You wouldn't believe how much fun I actually had, you thought out of nowhere.

“Mhmmm, good, good…”, one of his hands wrapped around your waist and coincidently rested on your lower belly.

You had felt his swollen groin against your butt but decided to ignore it because you were completely spent. Joel had taken all the orgasms you could have today ― you had nothing left to give.

But your boyfriend didn’t know that, so he dipped a hand under your pyjama’s shorts, looking for your slit. Then he found the tampon string and grunted.

“You’ve got your period?”, he asked, disappointed.

You hadn’t really forgotten to take it out. Weirdly enough, you still felt compelled to follow Officer Miller’s demands. You were going to leave it there till tomorrow's afternoon, his cum warming you up. You didn't want to let go of the memory, not just yet.

“Yeah, it came earlier, sorry, sweetie.” You lied ― and felt really bad for it.

He sighed heavily, disheartened, and removed his hand from in between your legs. “It's okay, good night, honey.” He kissed your neck.

You were ever so slightly disappointed in him ― you were sure a bit of blood would have not stopped Joel from fucking you.

Ah, comparison was really the thief of joy.

“Good night”, you whispered back, fully conscious of Joel’s cum sitting snugly inside your pussy.

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