Honey

“What do you want?”

“You to fuck me. And ‘s not a want, ‘s a need.” You retort, dramatic pout settled on your lips despite the fact that your boyfriend can’t see your face. You’re feeling a dangerous mix of goofy and horny, which means you’re doubly desperate for the boy’s attention.

“That’s not true, bun, you can wait.” Remus assures, sounding somewhat beaten down. That gives you hope.

“I can’t” you throw your arms up, your hands thudding against the floor. There’s a beat of silence, Remus seemingly having gone back to reading, and you huff. “Pleeeeaaaaasseee-“

“Alright, alright, fine.” Remus mutters when he can stand your high pitched trill no more, setting down his quill and rising to his feet. She’s easy, he thinks to himself. I’ll take care of her with one quick orgasm and be back to work in 10 minutes.

“Thank you, daddy!” You chirp immediately, sitting up and situating yourself comfortably on the bed. You waste no time in spreading your legs and pulling up the fabric of your skirt, exposing the wet patch that stains the crotch of your panties.

“Remmy, did I tell you what James did in potions today?” You ask, suddenly remembering the funny story. Remus shakes his head as he makes his way over to you, situating himself between your legs.

“I don’t think so, baby- bloody hell you’re wet. Really did need me didn’t you?” He mutters, reaching out to hook his fingers in the hem of your panties, tugging the garment downwards. You bend your legs to aid him.

“Mhm. Told you.” You agree, letting out a pleased sigh as he runs his thumb over your slit. “But anyway, we were making pepperup potion, and he was partners with Sirius.” Remus starts circles on your clit, and is a bit surprised when you don’t let out a soft whine at the sensation like you usually do.

“And when the Bicorn horn powder was passed out Pads dared him to snort it.” You’re already giggling as Remus slides two fingers into you, your amusement making the feeling barely register. His jaw is set as he starts fingering you, just the way you like, and you barely react. “And he did! Can you believe how bloody stupid he is? He couldn’t stop sneezing and coughing, and he was mad at Sirius, as if it was his fault.” You’re outright laughing now as you recall James’s class outburst and the choice words he threw at Sirius. Remus sighs

“Very funny, love.” He says flatly, concentrating on your pussy. He tries to get you back into it, feeling little progress in your wetness or the pulsing of your walls. “Doesn’t this feel good, baby?”

Usually the dirty talk would have you whimpering, but you’re distracted by the crinkle in Remus’s nose as he focuses. “D’you like when-“ he’s cut off by your giggle. He sighs, looking at you with a raised brow.

“You scrunch up your nose when you concentrate!” You exclaim brightly, grinning at the male. He sighs again, still fingering you, growing frustrated with your continued distraction. Usually you would’ve already came by now, yet you barely seem aroused.

“Sweetheart-“

“It looks so cute!” You lean up to poke his nose with your forefinger, “boop!” His eyes widen slightly at the action and he blinks, looking adorably dumbfounded for a moment, and you devolve into a fit of giggles.

“Y/n.” His voice hardens, but still it barely registers as you laugh. Part of him is amused by your antics, and he can’t help the slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Regardless, he wants to get this done and over with, so he keeps a bit of that hard edge in his voice. “C’mon, love, y’gotta concentrate-“

“Oh lighten up Remus.” You say as your laughter trails off, rolling your eyes with a smile. Just like that, his amusement fades, his mind instantly reacting to your bratty rebuttal and defiance. He growls, reaching up with the hand not inside you and curling strong fingers around the column of your neck. He’s satisfied when your eyes widen.

“What was that? Hm?” He’s gripping a bit too tightly for you to comfortably answer, letting you know the question was likely rhetorical. “You’re gonna be a fuckin brat now, after I dropped what I was doin’ just to get you off?” He seethes, his tone and irate expression making you whimper. The sound comes out choked thanks to his hand. “Do you really want this, or are you just wasting my fuckin’ time?”

Finally his grip lightens enough for you to sputter out “I’m sorry,” your heart racing at his quick shift into hard dominance. “I want it, daddy, ‘m not wasting your time.”

“Really? Cause it sure seems like you are.” He mutters as he starts pumping the fingers of his other hand, still holding you down to the mattress by your neck. His hard glare turns into a smirk when he feels the new moisture that now pools in your channel, coating his fingertips. “That’s more fuckin’ like it. Daddy just had to get rough with you, huh? That’s what it took to turn you on?”

“N-no, you were mean. Don’t have t’be mean.” You whimper out the feeble argument despite the undeniable surge of arousal that his anger had brought to your lower belly.

“Yeah? I was mean?” He taunts, his crooning voice matching yours to mock you just the way he knows you like. His grin widens when he feels your walls flutter. “Poor baby.” He leans over your body to press a kiss to your cheek before continuing, voice a low, sickly sweet coo.

“The thing is, sweetheart, daddy has work to do. Which means he needs you to be the pathetic little slut you usually are and cum real fast, okay? Can you be a good girl and do that f’me?” He murmurs, nosing along your jawline and leaving soft kisses there.

You nod as much as the hand still around your neck will allow, feeling that coil tightening within you. Remus can feel it too in the tightening of your walls, and he’s thrilled that you’re finally nearing your end.

“Come on, doll, cum for daddy.” He growls, and with that the coil snaps and you let out a whimpery moan as pleasure envelops you. You tremble gently against the bed, your reaction far less intense than the flailing limbs and loud cries of other orgasms, and the whole experience is short and just barely satisfying. But it’s more than enough for Remus.

“Good girl. Nice and easy when your head’s in it.” He murmurs as he pulls his fingers out of you and releases his hold on your neck so you can take in panting breaths unobscured. You watch as he wipes the mess from his fingers onto your inner thigh, replaces your panties over your soaked folds, and flips your skirt back down so it covers you, all with an air of casual impatience, before moving off the bed.

“You’re gonna wanna go to the bathroom soon, doll. Once you can walk steadily.” He instructs, sauntering over to his desk and sitting down. You let out a huff, pouting at the lack of usual coddling.

“Daddy-“

“Don’t even think about it, Y/n.” He cuts you off, turning back to look at you sternly. “I got you off so you’d stop whining, yeah? Just keep yourself occupied, take a nap or something.”

the rounded end of one of his new batons. reinforced. thicker.

you clench instinctively as he eases it in—slow, merciless. the sound you make is wrecked before it even leaves your throat.

“i know, sweetie,” he reassures you immediately, the rasp of his voice low in your ear. one arm hooks under your knee to hold you open, the other pushing the toy deeper. “it’s not what you were hoping for. but it’s still good for you.”

he adjusts the angle of the toy—working it in, dragging it out. he sets the pace, torturously slow.

“been fussy all day, huh?” he says softly, brushing his lips against your temple. “don’t think you’ve earned my cock tonight.”

he fucks you with it slow, mechanical, maddening—his pace steady and precise. every stroke angled just right to make you feel it.

“breathe,” he murmurs again, a free hand dragging slowly across your lower lip, releasing it from under teeth, your eyes screwed shut in effort. “you can take it. relax.”

you nod, helpless, trying to keep your hips still as he controls the rhythm—pressing in, pulling out, letting you flutter and shake around it without relief.

his free palm rests heavy on your belly. grounding.

“good,” he breathes. “just like that. soft. easy.”

your breathing starts to hitch. body tight, cunt dripping, teetering—

—and then he pulls it out. just presses the slick rounded end of it to your clit and starts to circle it—slow, unbearable arcs. teasing. patient. cruel.

“still with me?” he asks softly. kisses your temple like a reward when you start grinding into it, too far gone to care. “that’s it—you know what to do.”

you sob his name, your slick coating the toy, dripping down onto his slacks.

“see? still making a mess just the same, huh,” he chuckles, brushing your hair back.

and when you start really trembling—legs shaking, eyes welling, your body starting to fold in on itself—he cups your cheek, thumb brushing your lip.

“you want to cum?” he asks, gentle. “then say thank you. for the toy.”

you manage it, a sobby, desperate little “thank you,” and only then does he guide the baton back in, angle just right, hand releasing it so he can work your clit until you fall apart—hard.

your climax hits like heat lightning—sharp, aching, too much and still not enough—and eventually the toy slips, clattering to the ground, forgotten. but his fingers work you right through your climax, his breath grunting softly in your ear, palm warm against your lower tummy.

“shh,” he murmurs, steady, mouth at your ear. “i’ve got you. that’s it. you’re okay. just needed someone to take care of you, didn’t you?”

ghost groans and rolls his head back on the seat, which kyle chooses to take as confirmation. he chuffs a laugh.

“never knew you were such a dog, lt.,” he seems almost admiring.

“you’ve never ’ad a cunt that good, then,” ghost grunts. he carefully avoids admitting that it was his first time eating someone out at all. kyle gives a derisive snort.

“whatever you say, sir,” kyle’s dark eyes glitter in the dim light. damn cheeky boy, ghost thinks. price collects them like shiny bottle caps.

the air around his head hangs thick with acrid smoke. he caught sergeant garrick with a number a few weeks ago, and ever since smoking in his car a few blocks from base had become a bit of a bonding tradition. unfortunately, this meant that gaz had developed an uncanny ability to see when ghost’s mind begins to wander. maybe he’d always been like that. for a man who seems so relaxed, kyle’s dark, lovely eyes had a sharpness to them, even when he’s high—so when ghost’s gaze fixes on the window, when his breathing goes sniper-steady, gaz knows right away that his smoking buddy is lost in thought somewhere.

simon can feel the blood shifting to his cock as he remembers the taste, fuck, the smell of his girl’s pussy. one second thinking about it and he’s gone. it’s fucking pathetic.

“s’getting late,” gaz comments with an exaggerated yawn. “fancy a walk back to base?”

bless and curse kyle’s observation skills.

ghost slinks towards to his quarters, grimacing against the cold harshness of the overhead lights. the walk in the brisk autumn air might have done kyle good but the breeze only made ghost’s lungs ache. what he wouldn’t give for some warmth—and isn’t that a thought. his dick chubs up at the idea, and he whirls around without a second thought, his mind wholly set on the two bodies he know will warm him right up.

you’re already half asleep when the door to price’s quarters rattles. you’re not concerned, eyes squeezing shut in protest of the white leds that line the hallways. it’s only when you hear the unmistakable timber of price’s voice that you sit up.

“you smell rancid,” price scoffs when simon shoulders his way through the door. “whatever you’re planning on doing, you’ll do it after a washing.”

simon huffs, glancing towards you before price herds him to the bathroom. there’s a good bit of commotion in there that you decide you don’t care about, and after another moment you plop back down on the bed. you’re almost asleep again by the time simon leaves the bathroom, still damp from the shower as he crawls over you.

“down, boy,” price calls from the doorway, silhouetted by the stark light of the bathroom. “be gentle with ‘er, aye?”

“yessir,” simon grumbles, shoving his nose hard against your soft jaw.

“hi, si,” you murmur, bringing your hands up to his shoulders. he’s clearly displeased with your sleepy contentment, digging in his teeth hard enough to make you yelp before he’s yanked off of you by a hand on the back of his neck.

“what did i say?” price scolds, shaking simon a little by the base of his skull. “be nice, lad, or you aren’t getting your treat.”

your ears perk up and you start to shift to meet the captain’s eyes.

“treat?” your tail thumps on the bed and makes both men chuckle. price reaches out to pat your cheek.

“a right puppy, you are,” he teases. “silly thing. you’re his treat. if he’s good.”

simon is insistent when he shoves your thighs apart as far as they can go, desperately seeking that warmth he was waiting for. he doesn’t bother with preamble, not caring about paying attention to anywhere except his prize—so naturally he’s a little disgruntled to find you barely wet. price rolls his eyes.

“you have to get her ready,” he chides. “if you want her pussy to be sweet for you, you have to be sweet for her. go on. kiss her thighs. play with her tits. you won’t get anywhere bullying her.”

simon grumbles as he lifts himself up. “hold ‘em up for me, lovie,” he orders until you press your tits together, giving him a place to bury himself. fuck, he wouldn’t mind living here, mouthing at your nipples until his spit his dripping down your sides and tears are dripping down your face. you’re searing hot everywhere he touches you and he knows it’ll be even better when he has your cunt drooling for him.

“messy,” price murmurs, scratching simon’s head. “slobbering all over her pretty tits like a dog.”

“rude,” you whine, and it only amuses price more. simon ignores the banter going on above his head, instead shifting back down to focus his attentions on your soft belly. his laves his tongue over the stripes framing your navel and sinks his teeth into the plush warmth of your skin. his thick fingers work their way between your folds, crushed between his body and your tail at an awkward angle that he entirely ignores in favor of petting at your pussy. finally—finally, he thinks, as if it hadn’t been mere moments since he started working you over—he feels that warm wetness sticking to his fingers. he forces himself to focus, hoping to draw out as much of your sweetness as he can before he eats you out. smoking always made him hungry.

you keen when his tongue finally makes its way back to your clit. he pulls the hood back with slippery fingers to lick the raw, swollen nerves without interruption and the strangled squealing sound that escapes you makes price laugh. behind him he feels john begin to shift, heavy hands resting on his ass and spreading him open for inspection. a thumb presses into the hole he’d used to torture simon in the shower, prepping and stretching with no real interest in pleasure. the feel of john’s blunt cockhead teasing simon’s ass is enough to make him shudder.

“none of that. relax, open up for me,” price admonishes. he pushes in gradually, groaning at the tightness because they both love leaving simon a little underprepared, just enough for it to hurt. even so, john is gentle—perhaps because he doesn’t want you to see how rough he can be with simon—and sinks in with a careful slowness. it takes a few moments for price to slide all the way home with a warm groan, rubbing a hand up and down simon’s scarred spine.

“attaboy,” price purrs. “nice and settled, not a peep out of you. just keep licking that sweet cunt.”

the movement of price’s hips lacks the ferocity with which he usually fucks him, but somehow knowing that the gentleness isn’t for his benefit makes simon’s head even dizzier. fuck, he really is a dog like kyle said, if he loves being used this much.

he’s is starting to lose focus. the combination of the tantalizing warmth of your pussy and price’s lazy thrusts are muddling his brain, and his high had only vaguely begun to wear off. he pants into your cunt, watching you under his blond lashes. your round cheeks are tear-streaked and sparkle like fairy dust, your open mouth and pleading eyes all too tempting. somewhere in the room there’s an rhythmic, almost pained whine, too low to be you—before he even has time to register that the moans are from his own slack mouth, a big hand palms the back of his head and shoves his face back into your cunt. he presses his tongue inside of you and lets the drive of price’s hips guide his tempo. in, out, in, out, in, out, and then up to wrap his lips around your clit and suck hard just for the need to hear you squeal. price’s hand won’t allow him to come up for air and he wonders briefly if he’ll die in the warmth of your trembling thighs. he’s not sure he’d mind.

“fuckin’ tight,” price hisses. he picks up his pace, his hips slapping against simon’s ass hard enough that they’ll both be red and sore in the morning.

“you wanna breath, son? huh?” john forces simon’s head harder into your cunt. “make her cum first.”

its an order he’s eager to follow. your voice turns breathy and high above his head when he manages to leverage his arm against his torso and replace his tongue with his fingers inside you.

“si, si, si,” your thready whines make his brain fuzzy all over again, though admittedly it might be the lack of oxygen. “i’m close, i’m so close, please don’t stop—“

your words garble into indistinguishable cries until your thighs clamp tight around his head, just barely muffling the veritable howl you let out as you gush over his fingers. your cunt pulses around him in time with the throbbing in his skull but simon doesn’t even attempt to come up for oxygen, licking and sucking down mouthfuls of sweetness until price forces a hand under his throat and wrenches him upright.

“fuck, stupid mutt,” gasps shudder his body as john hisses in his ear. “gonna suffocate in that cunt. bet you’d like that, huh?”

the captain turns his attention to you, cooing sweetly over simon’s shoulder as you continue to shake.

“good girl, you liked that, huh?” you nod as much as you can. “simon made you feel good? has he been a good boy?”

the little uh-huh that you manage is enough for john. he pushes simon back down, his head lolling to the side to rest against your thighs. price bends over to press him fully into the bed. the heat of his chest traps simon under him and rubs his cock raw against the sheets with every jerk of price’s hips.

“c’mon, c’mon,” price hisses. “make a mess, simon, cum right fucking now.”

gentle, trembling fingers come to rest on simon’s cheek and his glossed over eyes just barely manage to meet yours. it’s all too much—the tickle of your fluffy tail on his jaw, the rub of his cock on the sheets, the way price rams against that spot inside of him, the sweetness of you still on his tongue—his stomach clenches as he cums, the air forced from his lungs in an arid wheeze with every thrust of price’s cock inside of him. finally, finally, that warmth he ached for consumes him, seeping outward from his core and into every muscle in his seizing body. it’s euphoric. it’s too much. it hurts.

he fucking loves it.

simon doesn’t notice when price rams himself in to the base and fills him up with a groan. he certainly doesn’t notice when he’s empty, when john has pulled out and away to collect a damp towel. no, all simon feels is that lovely, tingling warmth all over his skin and radiating out from his bones. he doesn’t surface from that blissful stupor until your fingers begin to pat gently at his cheek.

“si? can you hear me?” only the softness of your concern finally opens his eyes. “can you roll over? john wants to wipe me down.”

“fuck off,” he grumbles, but he complies nonetheless. his brows furrow when he doesn’t feel anything sliding down his thighs. clearly, john had already taken care of his own mess.

“damnit,” price sighs as he crawls over the bed to clean you up. “look at that mess, simon. gonna have to change the bloody sheets before we can get any sleep. and look at her poor tail, all matted with fuckin’ slobber.”

simon is unimpressed with john’s complaints, opting instead to close his eyes.

“it’s not bad,” your voice makes his ears perk. “i can wash it out in the morning.”

price sighs again, and in his mind’s eye simon can see the baleful look the captain is sending his way.

“alright, pet, if you say so,” john concedes. “hop up, both of you, and i’ll change the damned sheets.”

“might ‘afta burn those,” simon adds helpfully as he flops to the side and off the bed.

“if i do, its coming out of your paycheck,” john snips.

the shuffle to find clean sheets takes longer than any of you had hoped with your assemblage of aching joints and sleepy eyes, but at last the bed is remade. you settle back in immediately, wiggling a few times to make yourself as comfortable as possible as price slides in behind you. after a pause simon follows suit, laying down in front of you with a hand on your hip. usually he makes a bit of a fuss about being forced to cuddle, but tonight he finds himself still in need of your warmth. he feels the softness of you squish against him as price’s rough hand reaches around to rub his arm, all three curled up close with you in the center. you snuffle at simon in delight before pausing and wrinkling your nose a little.

“did you run into a skunk earlier?” you ask, mildly appaled. simon can feel price laughing on the other side of you.

john knows as soon as you clamber up into his lap with just one of his raggedy t-shirts on and nothing else that you're up to something. sure, you play it off by sleepily nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck, but john can feel the sticky heat emanating from between your thighs.

“thought ya didn’t wanna watch footy w'me, sweetheart,” john mumbles lowly into your hair and presses a gentle kiss behind your ear, body relaxing comfortably into the leather of his recliner as the weight of your body comes to rest completely against him.

a snorted laugh leaves his chest at the breathy jumble of words you offer in response, one hand coming up to curl around your waist at the way your hips wiggle side to side to wedge one of his thick thighs directly between yours. once you settled yourself down on his thigh, that's when he noticed the sticky mess that waited for him between your thighs—'course you weren't wearin' underwear.

john bounces his leg up in a feigned attempt to sit up straighter in the recliner, smirking at the choked mewl that leaves your lips and shushing you with a hand cradling the back of your head.

“easy, pet. just relax fer me. c’mon—sit down on my thigh,” john croons sweetly in your ear, using the hand he has perched on your hip to ease your hips back down until your bare arousal is flush against the warm, hairy skin of his thick thigh. “take what ya need, sweetheart.”

which leads to you rutting eagerly against the pudgy corded muscle branching up john's thigh, hiding your teary face into the crook of his neck to avoid the humiliation crawling up your spine. sure, hiding away in the crook of john's neck let you avoid his the condescending cock of his brow and the mocking pout he gives you, but it doesn't do anything to stop the absolute filth from pouring out of his mouth. it doesn't stop his hands from slithering up your oversized t-shirt, the calloused tips of his fingers immediately finding your peaked nipples and groping the flesh there.

"if ya needed me t' fuck ya, could've just asked me, y'know?" john mutters with a few clicks of his tongue as he uses one hand to push the hem of your shirt up and over your head, exposing more of your now naked skin and giving him more places to sink his teeth and nails into. “all y’had to do was say please—would’ve filled you up ‘til you were leakin’.”

and when you're a blubbering mess in the crook of his neck, warbling out broken apologies and begging for john to just go ahead and fuck his cock into you, he’s hushing you by shoving his middle and ring finger between your teeth, nestling them at the back of your tongue. he uses the other hand to grip at the flesh of your asscheek, pinching and dimpling the fat between his fingers in an attempt to get your hips to move quicker.

“shhh, shhh—y’ made your choice now, pet,” john explains to you slowly so your melting brain might be able to comprehend. “keep goin’, then. m’not gonna play with ya ‘til yer cummin’ all over me.”

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

Lee was panting as he burst through the doors of his house, head whipping left and right as his eyes scanned the place for the face he loved so much.

4:56pm…

"Y/n!" He called out in an alarmed manner, fast walking through the whole place in search for the girl in question. "Muffin!" Worry coated his tone as he walked into their empty bedroom, checking the attached bath before walking out as he breathed hard. 

"Sugar, where are you?!" 

"... Lee…" A hoarse voice called from the guest bath weakly. Some sniffles followed. "I- In here…" 

The man jogged to the bathroom. "What's wrong, muffin?" He didn't notice the cause of her tears as it rested in her lap. "Hey, why are you crying? What's wrong?" Lee took her red face in his hands. 

"I- I…" Y/n fought through the tears. "J- Just wanted to see how they worked…" A hiccup escaped her as she bit her lip in embarrassment. 

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "... Huh?" 

Lowering her head in embarrassment, the girl raised her locked wrists sheepishly while her legs dangled from the closed toilet seat that she was seated on. 

A heavy sigh of relief escaped him as he closed his eyes momentarily, chuckling as he looked back at her again. "Oh, sugar. All that for this? You scared me."

"They just l- locked all of a sudden and refused to o- open, Lee!" Her soft pout quivered. 

Lee snickered as he stood back up to his feet, pulling her with him with the small chain between each cuff. "That's because they need a key to unlock them each time they're closed, muffin." Tapping himself for the set, he continued. "Kinda the whole point."

"I could barely do anything! Calling y- you was n- near impossible!" Y/n's complaints were adorable to his ears.

"That's exactly what they're-" he sighed in annoyance as realisation hit him. "The keys are in the cruiser." 

His hand reached for the chain again, pulling her out of the bathroom with his hold on them as he innocently walked to the main door with her in tow. 

"Okay, sugar. I'll be a-" it was only when he looked back did his breath knock itself short. The man's teeth pulled his bottom lip between them. 

Lee only noticed it all just now. 

Y/n's hair was disheveled in the most adorable way possible, his oversized shirt the only thing on her body, naked legs barely covered up to her knees by her socks with one of them pooling around her ankle. Her arms were stretched out towards him, helpless hands locked in his grasp as she sniffled and chewed on her lip. 

He didn't know if it was how fuckable she looked in this moment or her vulnerable position with her teary eyes gleaming in the dull light of day that possessed him to do what he did next, but before another thought could form in his hazy mind, the Sherrif had pushed his fiancee against the wall.

"Sh- Sherrif?" It was a habit that she was yet to shake off, the name. Though she looked surprised, Lee had sensed the breathlessness in her words after he had pinned her locked wrists above her head. 

A dull ache formed in his cock as he raised them to their limits, stretching her arms all the way. Y/n gulped at the darkness in his eyes, feeling the movement make its effect all the way down to her chest where her clothed breasts perked up against the fabric of the shirt, hardening nubs poking their cover. 

The girl's eyes fell down to her lover's inviting lips as her heart and pussy began to thrum alike. She felt so vulnerable and exposed. So spread out. 

Arousal leaked down her folds. 

She was the one to close the distance between them, hiccupping into his lips as her body tried to recover from the weeping, a sniffle forcing itself out of her. 

"Oh, sugar," Lee panted when they finally broke apart to breathe, foreheads resting against each others, "you naughty, naughty, fucking girl." 

"Sherrif…" Her whimpers were going to be the fucking death of him. "I- I have been such a bad girl" it wasn't a lie, she was neither supposed to nor allowed to mess with his utility belt and everything that came with it. 

"Ah~" one of his eyebrows shot up at the confession as he grinded their crotches together. "Then I must punish this bad little girl, huh?" She was usually a shy little thing with Lee as he was such an intimidating man with his sharp gaze and laid back attitude. 

But the girl handcuffed under him right now was a whole another person.

Whole another whore. 

"Yes, Sheriff~" her head tipped backwards as she moaned loudly in response to his lips and teeth latching onto her clothed nubs, sucking and licking at them till they became wet and visible. "Oh, Sheriff!" 

"Down on those pretty knees, sugar. Will punish that cute face proper." Loosening his grip on her cuffed wrists, Lee let her get in the ordered position while hurriedly undoing his pants with his free hand. "Look at you, muffin. All these months of bein' together and you still surprise me everyday" still pinning her against the wall, the Sheriff tapped his leaking tip against her lips. 

"Keep it there." He ordered as he set her head against the wall with the rest of her body. "Now open wide for your Sheriff so he can teach you some manners about not meddling with other people's things" the man was so worked up that he couldn't help but thrust inside her wet and warm mouth instead of letting her sink down on it like he usually did. 

"Fuck" Lee moaned as Y/n's nostrils flared to aid her breathing, mouth stretching around his fat cock as spit threatened to drip down her lips. "Just like that, muffin. Hell, you look so pretty with your face stuffed full of my cock" she gagged when his short thrusts within her mouth started to move further south, the tip hitting her throat.

Her eyes watered up, already red from her crying session as she moaned, sending vibrations of pleasure up her fiance's cock. "Good girl, sugar. Such. A. Good. Fucking. Girl." The Sherrif thrusted deeper with each word, causing the welled up tears to fall as Y/n choked and coughed; adding to his pleasure. Her own hips swayed in the air, throbbing vagina desperate for stimulation. 

Lee sighed in contentment, watching her eyes for any degree of discomfort. "How you doing down there, bubba?" She gasped for air when he pulled out till only his tip was separating her lips. Y/n simply nodded a couple times. "Yeah? Okay?"

"Goot" she mumbled through his cock, trying to move her head to keep up with his cock though she knew she wasn't allowed to move it from the wall with the way he had pressed it there. 

He snickered as his free hand that wasn't occupied with holding her cuffed wrists above her head raked through her hair before grabbing himself a careful bunch of it. 

"Good, yeah?" The man only thrusted inside again after she had nodded, grunting and groaning as he fucked her face sore and teary. 

Y/n was dripping by the time he was done using her throat, her pussy on fire as she swallowed whatever she was allowed in her mouth, moaning and thanking him for the rest that he shot over her face. 

"There. All punished and pretty." 

"Sh- Sheriff" the girl almost whined after she had caught her breath, glaring at him through her lashes crossly. "What a- about me?" Lee was surprised. These handcuffs really had flipped a switch. 

His usually shy and innocent little girl had turned into this naughty and demanding slut all in a few hours.

"Who said we were done, sugar?" The Sheriff spoke before he led his little deviant into their bedroom by her helpless wrists.

She was definitely his favorite arrest.

owner!ghost knows as soon as you fumble your way through the front door of your shared flat that you’d had a bad day. he can see it all over your face—the way your eyebrows are furrowed and pinched in the middle of your forehead, how the corners of your lips are tugged down, posture slumped and eyes blinking sleepily over at him.

his hands are on you as soon as he crosses the living room to meet you at the door, pushing loose strands of hair away from your face and letting his thumbs sweep gently across the planes of your cheeks. “there’s my pretty girl—y’ alright? did’ya ‘ave a bad day, baby?”

and ghost lets you get it all out of your system, listening to you rant and rave all the while running his hands up and down your arms in a soothing attempt to quell the rising tide of emotions inside of you. as the tears begin welling in your lash line, his thumb reaches up to brush gently against the necklace you always wear around your neck.

to the outside world, it looks like a simple piece of jewelry, small gold rectangular links (or silver links, depending on your metal preference) looped infinitely around your neck with no clasp. forever locked around your throat—well, at least until ghost decides it's time for you to get a new one, then he's got you kneeling between his thighs and gently snipping the necklace from your throat just to weld another one on the very next day.

the slight brush against the necklace is enough to have a hiccuping sob rip from your chest, lurching forward instinctively and burying your face into the soft wool covering ghost's chest.

"shhh, shhh—s' alright, baby. no more tears, hmm? you're 'ome now," and owner!ghost is immediately sweeping you up in his arms, one hand secured beneath your bum and the other buried in your trestles of hair. “lemme take care of ya, yeah? make it all go away?”

words seem to escape you now, the stress and panic and dread from the day melting away from you as soon as you’re wrapped up in ghost’s arms. an almost pitiful whimper leaves your mouth in response, sounding almost unhuman as it exits your lips and melts into the air around you.

but it doesn’t deter owner!ghost or make him worried—no, he’s become quite acquainted with that kind of noise.

“s’fine, pup. y’ know ‘ow to ask me,” ghost murmurs softly into your ear as he slowly begins moving the two of you down the hallway towards your bedroom. there’s a soft curl of his lips when he feels the way you nose at his jaw twice, a signal he was all but extremely aware of. and once owner!ghost enters the bedroom, he’s setting you down onto the floor, careful not to bruise your knees as he helps you into a kneeling position before him.

ghost cradles your face in the palm of one of his large hands, thumb catching the stray tears dripping down your cheeks as a gentle smile stretches his lips at the way your teary eyes stare up at him adoringly. he can see the imaginary tail between your legs wagging slightly, hesitant to get too excited before being given permission.

“you’re absolutely sure, baby? more than ‘appy to just talk everythin' out while we have a cuddle,” ghost asks one last time, eyebrow quirked and expression as serious as his tone of voice. he always did one last check, one last verification that this is what you needed in that moment. and the second your chin dips down in a firm nod and the word ‘yes’ slips from your tongue, owner!ghost is slotting his lips against yours in a possessive and slightly messy kiss, keeping a firm grip on your cheeks to push your lips into a pout. once he pulls away and leaves you feeling dizzy, he pats your cheek firmly, gesturing to the end of the bed.

“be a good dog ‘nd find yer collar for me, then.”

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

“Of course.” Your smile blooms again, this one apologetic. They’re all lovely, but James prefers the genuine ones. You say to Linda, “I’ll find you later, okay?” 

“Yes, please.” Linda gives your shoulder a fond squeeze, departing the conversation politely as James starts to guide you away. 

There’s a smaller room not far from you, usually connected to this main one but curtained off for the event. No one notices you slip through the curtain. Your quickening breaths are ten times more obvious in the quieter space. 

“It’s okay.” James supports you the rest of the way to the couch on the other side of the room. You sink down onto it on shaky legs. “You’re fine, angel.” 

You don’t move once you’re sitting, so he maneuvers your body for you, turning you sideways and bringing your feet up onto the couch so you can hug your knees the way you like to. Taking care of you is James’ job, but he thinks he would do it either way. He can’t imagine a life in which he isn’t looking after you. He unzips the back of your dress and starts taking off your shoes. These straps always give him trouble; he doesn’t know how you manage them.

You make a low, pained sound. James feels it in the back of his throat. “James—" 

“I’m not undressing you for everyone to see,” he says lightly. “Only loosening things so you can breathe. It’s just us here, yeah?” 

You nod, closing your eyes. Your breaths sound like they hurt. James doesn’t know what set you off, but these attacks are something you’ve dealt with before. He has a sense of what you need. 

“Sweetheart.” James finally succeeds in getting your shoes off. He clasps his hands over yours firmly, all piled atop your knees. “Just take a breath. One good breath.” 

You try, he sees you trying. But it seems like the air won’t settle in your lungs. Your eyes dip just south of his chin, as though you can’t stand to look at him while they grow distant and shimmery. 

“Good,” James praises you anyway. “You’ve got it, lovely, you’re okay. I know it’s hard right now, but can you do something for me? Tell me five things you can see.” 

You don’t want to. You never do, it’s clearly a lot of work to focus in this state, but eventually James coaxes you into identifying five things in the room. One of them is the earpiece he uses to communicate with the rest of the security team, which makes him smile. 

“I don’t usually call it my spiral cord thing,” he jokes, “but good job. Let’s do four things you can hear, yeah?” 

You get to three before you start crying. James’ heart aches. He hates to see you cry, but sometimes it does help you. You’re going to be upset about your makeup after, though. You fold your face into your knees, and he reaches over you to rub your back. 

“I know.” Your skin is warm beneath his touch, the whole of you shaking. “I know it doesn’t feel like it’s getting better, but it is. You’re doing a great job.” 

“I can’t—“

“Hey, you can. You can, sweetheart. You’re doing it already, you just can’t tell yet. Here, I have something for you.” James changes tactics, fishing in his pocket. He holds a bottle of lavender oil near your face. “Smell this.” 

You pick your head up, looking at the bottle before sniffing tentatively. 

“More than that,” he encourages. “Breathe it in. It’ll help.” 

You take the best inhale you can. Your nose runs and sweat glistens at your hairline, but you try for him. James praises you amply, taking deep breaths for you to copy. He isn’t sure if you notice him doing it, but eventually yours start to match his, slowing and lengthening until you’re getting true lungfuls of the lavender scent. 

James keeps it by your nose. With his other hand, he rubs your calf. 

“You’re okay,” he sighs. “How do you feel now, lovely?” 

“Okay.” Your voice still shakes, but now more with aftershocks than true adrenaline. “Sorry, I don’t know why that happened.” 

“You don’t have to know.” James pinches your nose clean, something in his stomach tightening when you shy. “I’m sorry it happened, too, but it’s not your fault.” 

“I should…” You take a big breath. James frowns and rubs your calf again. “I should go back out.” 

He makes a soft, reprimanding sound. “Not yet. Give yourself a few minutes. You need a break. They’ll all be okay without you for a bit.” 

Your eyes go to the curtain separating you from the main room. You look at it as though you can see right through and every guest at this event is standing on the other side, tapping their feet and muttering about where you’ve gone. 

“Take a break,” James says again. “You thought you were dying a minute ago.” 

“I really did,” you admit. “I thought it wouldn’t feel so much like that after the first time.” 

James hates to see you upset. He presses a kiss to the center of your forehead and puts the oil away. Squeezes your knees in his hands. “Are you going to be okay if I go out there for a minute? I just need to grab a couple of things.” 

You nod but watch his hands ruefully as he stands and they fall away from you. “What do you need?”

“Napkins, mostly.” He gives you a sorry smile. “Obviously you look beautiful no matter what, but I think you’re going to want to clean your face up.” 

“Oh, god.” You touch your fingers underneath your eye, feeling the tackiness of smudged makeup. “Thank you.” 

“Stay right there,” James warns. “If you’re doing anything other than breathing when I get back here, we’re going straight home.” 

You roll your eyes good naturedly. James feels relieved you’re feeling well enough to do it. “You’re the boss.”  

“I’m in charge of your safety,” he says. “So, yeah, I am the boss right now. Stay right there.”