#fic-or-treating!

Suddenly, he hears the station doors open and his eyebrows instantly furrow. Ron certainly locked those doors when he left a couple hours ago, hell, Flip knows he did.

He makes sure the gun in his holster is still there before turning around slowly in his chair, sitting back and chuckling when he makes eye contact with the trespasser. 

“How the hell’d you get in here? You stalking me or somethin’, hm?”

You laugh softly, holding up the small, beat up silver key that you’d used to unlock the station just seconds earlier.

“You’re awfully lucky you don’t have a real stalker, Zimmerman; you’d make it all too easy for ‘em to get to you. Found this in the kitchen this morning, fell off that damn keyring of yours again and I figured you’d need it if you were working late.”

His eyebrows furrow, quickly grabbing his keys from his pocket and holding them up to inspect them. Sure enough, his station key is missing from the ring. He huffs, shaking his head as you walk up and hand him the key with a soft chuckle.

“Thanks, peanut.” He says, kissing your palm.

“You’re welcome.” You smile, taking a seat on his knee. “Dare I ask how work is going?”

Flip laughs sarcastically, hand coming to rest on the small of your back. “Well, I’m still at the station at midnight on a Friday night doing paperwork and not at home in bed with my beautiful girl...is that indicative enough of how work is going?”

You chuckle softly, wrapping your hand around the back of his neck, fingers playing with the silky hairs there. He sighs, shoulders falling a bit as he relaxes under your touch.

“It looks like you, Detective Zimmerman, need to stop doing work stuff for a bit.” You smirk, climbing up to straddle his lap. “And start doing your girlfriend for a bit.”

“Oh, is that what I should be doing, now?” He hums, smoothing his hands over your thighs as you start moving your hips on his lap.

“Absolutely you should. It’s been scientifically proven that detectives who get ridden by their girlfriends are more productive afterwards.” You joke, laughing along with him.

His head falls back, a deep exhale pushing through his nostrils at the motions of your hips, feeling his arousal already hardening and pressing up against his Levi’s. 

“Mmmm, that’s good, peanut.” He groans as he sticks a cigarette between his teeth and lighting it up, taking a long drag. His hands deliver a good smack to your ass, then squeezes the globes, encouraging your hips to move a bit quicker. “C’mon then, gimme all you got.”

Your hands grab hold on the front of his flannel for balance, then begin grinding down on him harder. His rickety old desk chair starts squeaking with your motions and Flip grunts gruffly, delivering little smacks and squeezes to your hips and ass, really any bit of skin he can grab hold of. 

“Shit, baby.”

Flip begins to lift his hips along with yours, creating even more friction for both of you. His teeth are clamping down so hard around the cigarette, it’s a small miracle that the poor thing hasn’t split in half. The warm, un-flicked ashes are jerked off the tip as the result of your shared motions, dropping down onto his flannel.

His job-roughened hands paw sloppily at your clothed breasts and it’s then that he processes the fact that you’re wearing one of his flannels, something that makes him smile. He always loves it when you wear his shit.

He pops half the buttons on the shirt, pushing it off your shoulders and letting it lay folded in the creases of your slightly-bent elbows. Your bra, although just a regular old comfy bra, makes his mouth water and his cock absolutely throb.

You come to a stop on top of him and his darkened eyes whip up to meet your gaze, nostrils flared. You’re panting softly and you chuckle, biting your lip.

“Baby, this is really good, it is. But if we keep going anymore, I’m gonna full-on chafe...it’s already starting.”

Flip laughs softly, nodding and reaching down to undo his jeans. You stand up and allow him to push his pants down, undoing your own pants in the meantime. He pats his lap once he’s done, eyes raking over your figure.

“Get the fuck back up here and ride me.”

You smirk and jump onto his lap eagerly, smashing your lips down on his while your hips pick back up their previous rhythm. He devours you hungrily, tongue licking into your mouth while his hands splay out over your ass and encourage your hips along.

Your head’s spinning as you ride him as hard as you possibly can, clit throbbing and desperate for friction. He’s grunting, rolling his hips up in time with the rhythm of yours.

“Goddamnit, that’s it, hump that cock.” He growls against the column of your throat. “Pussy’s so hot, can feel it through my boxers.”

Much to your embarrassment, you’re already really close, just from this. It’s been almost a week since you and Flip have had any time to fuck and apparently, it’s taken more of a toll on you than you realized.

“Flip, I’m...I’m gonna...”

Out of nowhere, Flip lets out a loud, strangle groan and his hips jerk up against you. His head tilts back, jaw slacked. “Ffffuck!”

You can feel a sudden warmth below you and your eyes widen when you realize what’s happened. Oh, you’re soooo gonna tease the shit out of him for this.

“Wooooow, did you really just--”

His fingers suddenly shove themselves between your thighs and press up against your clit. “Oh shut up and just fuckin’ cum.”

You’re tossed over the edge right then and there, head falling back as you grind down roughly on his digits, taking yourself through your intense climax.

“Ahhh shiiiiit!”

He pulls away after you’re finished and rests his hands on your hips, lazily massaging them. You catch your breath for a second, then lean down with a devious grin, resting your forehead on his.

“I made you cum prematurelyyyyyyyyy, I made you cum prematurelyyyyyyyy!” You chant, taunting him.

Flip rolls his eyes, huffing. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I was just stressed and wound up...”

“Mmhmm, I’m sure that was it.” You giggle, poking his chest. “You know I’m never gonna let this go, right? I finally have something to tease you about, ha ha!”

He smacks your ass harshly, biting down on your bottom lip with a smile. “...Fine. But I swear if you tell Ron about this, I’ll kill you.”

Laughing, you pull him in for a kiss.

“Deal.”

🦇10/6 mini kinktober. 🦇

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Count Pierre takes your hand and helps you down onto the plush ground, then leads you up to the Abbey’s dimly-lit entrance. Some of France’s most elite are in attendance, although none is perhaps more important than the Count himself. 

The rest of the female guests are clad in a similar getup to yours, nun’s robes and masks to conceal their true identities. This aspect adds a certain mystery to the whole ordeal and, for you at least, makes it all that much more arousing.

You’re lead over by Pierre to a relatively secluded corner of the atrium where another recognizable elite lounges with several women draped over his arms, seemingly hanging on his every last word.

He stands when Pierre approaches, extending a large hand to shake the Count’s in an informal greeting between friends.

"Good to see you this eve, Count.”

“Jacques. A pleasure it is, indeed.” Pierre then turns to you, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you forward. “Allow me to introduce you to my company for this evening.”

You hold your hand out for the handsome squire and he wears a soft smirk as he steps forward, bending on one knee before you. His lips press a tender kiss to your knuckle, eyes glued to yours the entire time.

“Bonjour, mademoiselle Pierre.” His voice is smooth like silk, causing gooseflesh to fly up your arms. “I am honored to be on bended knee before such a beautiful lady, just as any man should be in the presence of an angel.”

Your cheeks warm at his flattery, a soft giggle escaping your painted lips. “Oh, you are much too kind, Sir Jacques. I assure you, I am undeserving of your flattery.”

Jacques turns your hand around, placing his lips to your palm before rising to his feet once more. He towers over you, tall and broad, still holding your hand in his much larger one.

“Mm. I would not doubt yourself so much, mademoiselle.”

He looks to the Count, then.

“Will you allow me to show the lady around our breathtaking atrium, Count?”

Pierre seems a bit agitated with Jacques’ not-so-subtle behavior, but he nods nonetheless, forcing a small smile onto his expression. “Of course. She should know her way around the Abbey.”

Sensing the Count’s negative feelings, you open your mouth to respectfully decline the squire’s offer, but he’s already swept you away for your guided tour. His hand takes place on your lower back as he leads you around the spacious atrium, pointing out a few of the notable statues or sculptures.

“May I speak candidly for a moment, Lady Pierre?” He asks after a stretch of peaceful silence, stopping and turning to face you.

You nod, and he takes your hands in his, bringing one up to cradle his cheek. His head turns slightly, allowing his beard to tickle your palm.

“I apologize if this is too bold, milady, but you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. You are positively enchanting and I find myself almost bewitched in your presence.” He kisses the palm resting on his cheek. “What can I do to persuade you to become Lady Le Gris this eve?” 

Your cheeks burn as you look up into his eyes, biting your lip.

“Hmm. I must warn you now, Sir Jacques, I am not so easily won over. You will have to truly turn on the charm and impress to persuade me.”

Jacques chuckles, a certain flame igniting within his gaze as he lets go of your hands. He then brings his own up to your face, thumb pressing down on your lip and tracing all along the painted surface before his fingers slip down over the column of your throat.

“Ah, careful what you wish for, mademoiselle. I am not afraid of a good défi and when I start something, I always see it through.”

His hand begins its descent, fingers pausing for a moment to tap your collarbones before sliding down over the mounds of your breasts where they protrude from your tightly-strung corset.

The breath catches in your throat as his hand splays out and gives one of your breasts a gentle squeeze.

“Monsieur Le Gris...” You breathe, eyebrows raised at his bold actions. “You are awfully bold to be touching a lady in such a manner outside the privacy of the bedroom.”

He huffs in amusement, thumb circling your pebbled nipple where it protrudes slightly from under your dress.

“Mmm, then let this serve as a sort of...teaser for what is to come, should you chose my bed tonight. This is only the beginning of the pleasures I may bring to your body, mademoiselle.”

Just as he moves to slide his hand to your other breast, Count Pierre rounds the corner. He’s quick to pull away and stand beside you, offering his friend a small smile and nod.

The Count frowns, huffing softly as he holds his hand out. You walk back to his side with a bit of pep in your step, biting your lip with nerves.

“We are ready to proceed into the caves for the ceremony.” He says, voice monotonous as Jacques steps up before him. “Your Lady has been curious as to your whereabouts, Sir Jacques.”

He simply nods without another word and you’re pulled away by Pierre before you can even bid him a farewell. You feel guilty for this, but you are indeed looking forward to seeing how the evening progresses, especially with this brewing competition for your company.

Each club member and their womanly company proceed down to the chapel for the black mass ceremony. You’re not too excited about this part, but Count Pierre assures you that it’s a relatively quick procedure. 

Although the mass was quite the scene, unlike anything you’ve ever been part of before, your eyes are unmoving from the handsome squire where he sits in the pew across the aisle. 

His eyes are as black as the name of the service, leaning in to whisper something in his company’s ear, something that makes her giggle. He smirks over at you, holding up his goblet full of sinful crimson in a mocking toast as her hand slides down his torso and over his crotch.

Your stomach drops and you take your lip between your teeth as he takes a generous sip from the silver cup, pointer finger suggestively stroking the outer edge of the goblet just to tease you further. The woman rubs his crotch with no reservations and he takes all the pleasure in making seductive faces over at you, smirking with satisfaction when he sees the clear effect they’re having on you.

After the surprisingly steamy mass, everyone makes their way into the beautifully luxuriously furnished library. The shelves are stocked from floor to ceiling with books of all sizes, most of which are recognizable works of pornographic literature. There’s a bowl of fruit sat in the center of a large wood table and you grab a firm, ripe fig before taking a seat besides the Count.

Jacques sits right across from you, eyes stuck to your seated form as the erotic readings begin. Determined to pay him back for his teasing during the mass, you bring the ripe fig up to your lips and take a bite, ne’r breaking his gaze.

He sits up a bit, clearing his throat quietly as he tries to turn his attention to the reading being done. But then, a bit of juice dribbles down your chin and suddenly, he can’t look away.

His eyes eagerly follow the drop’s journey down your chin and onto your bosom, where it soon disappears between your breasts. He huffs softly at the loss, but he licks his lips at the thought of finding it later when he finally beds you.

You smirk, knowing you’ve got the squire wound tightly round your finger as you wipe a bit of fig juice that’s collected at the side of your mouth. You then gently suck the sweet juice off your digit, drawing it back out of your mouth with a small pop before continuing to devour the fruit.

He’s sure he’s never been so drunk off a woman before, absolutely enchanted by your effortless sex appeal and charming charisma. He must have you tonight, there is not even a drop of doubt in his mind about that now.

It’s not long before the readings come to an end and the club members begin pairing off for the evening. Anxiety rises within you as the pressure mounts.

Will you retire to a room with the Count, or will you go with Sir Jacques instead?

The question is ever so present in your mind as you look around nervously, meeting Jacques’ eyes shortly after scanning the room. He looks just as unsure as you do about how to proceed and you get the sense that Jacques isn’t a man easily flummoxed like this.

When the Count is distracted, Jacques nods over towards the hall leading to the private quarters, signaling for you to follow him over. You carefully stand up, hoping Pierre is too deeply engrossed in conversation to notice your absence, following quickly after Jacques.

Before you both reach Jacques’ room, you’re swiped up off your feet and thrown over his shoulder. You giggle quietly as he rushes you into his room, kicking the door shut behind him. 

He lays you back on the bed with a soft smile, eyes searching yours while one of his war-roughened hands slides over the natural slopes of your figure. Once he’s traced you up and down several times over, his thick fingers tease the clasps of your bodice.

“If you did not have to walk out of here tonight, I would rip this pathetic thing straight off.” His voice rasps in your ear, coarse facial hair hovering just above the surface of your flesh. He suddenly tugs sharply at the garment, popping the first few clasps and eliciting a surprised gasp from you. “How dare you tease me, eating that fig in such a manner while looking at me with those pretty eyes? I ought to just take what I want from you and then leave you here for the Count to find, as a harlot like you deserves. Hmm, we shall see what I choose to do with you.”

You’ve never been spoken to quite like this ever before, the sharp sting of his harsh words strangely spurring your arousal on further. Shouldn’t you be taking great offense to this sort of talk? 

Jacques smirks, breath warm as his head lowers down over your neck to the valley between your newly freed mounds of flesh. A thin, sticky trail of sweet fig juice remains from the readings and his mouth waters at the sight, tongue running over his chapped lips before laying flat on your flesh. 

Without breaking contact for even a moment, his tongue follows the semi-shiny path of juice up through the center of your breasts to where it stops at your collarbones. You shudder under his gaze and touch, gooseflesh spreading rapidly out from under where his tongue once laid.

“Mmm,” He brings his lips to hang just over yours, licking his lips once again with a small smirk. “Tasty.”

Your jaw hangs slack, a soft breath of his name leaving through your slightly open mouth. “Sir Jacques...”

His massive hand takes sudden and firm purchase in your updone hair, turning your head slightly so your ear is next to his lips.

“Turn yourself over, mademoiselle Le Gris.”

You smirk to yourself at the name, liking the way it sounds on his tongue, turning over to lay on your stomach as soon as he stands up. He’s quickly undoing his trousers and climbing back onto the bed, positioning himself closely behind you.

He hums as he flips your skirts up, then prods his proudly-standing cock around your fleshy folds before pressing forth, sheathing himself inside you with a swift move of his pelvis. Your eyes widen, then squeeze shut, hands tightly gripping the sheets on the bed. 

The bed beings to squeak softly in-time with the motions of his hips and combined with both your sounds of pleasure, it makes for one scandalous symphony. 

“Ahhh.” You chew at your lip, trying to keep your noises to somewhat of a minimum, although it’s quite difficult with Sir Jacques having such an impressive cock.

Soft grunts and groans come from behind you, matching up with each of the squire’s forward thrusts. His head hangs back, eyes open up towards the ceiling as he revels in the pure pleasure your body brings him.

His fingers dig into your clothed hips, pulling you back as he presses his hips forward, creating a sharp smacking sound and sensation on your skin. You hum, voice naturally heightening each time his cock sheathes itself in your walls.

“Mmm, now this is a cunt worth enduring your scrumptious, juicy teasing.” He hums with a smirk, delivering a smack to the globe of your ass.

You gasp, then chuckle at his words. “And your cock is one well worth having to sit and bear witness to your little production, Sir Jacques.”

Both of you laugh together breathily for a moment before he suddenly picks up the pace of his hips, earning him a loud gasp from your lips. His hands remove themselves from your hips, instead holding onto your shoulders as his thrusts grow increasingly quicker and more desperate.

Your body jolts back and forth forcefully, breasts knocked loose from their strict captivity, now free to move and dance about across your chest. Whimpers and whines of pleasure, what pathetic little things they are, roll off your tongue uncontrollably.

“I know you are holding your sounds back.” He leans down, purring in your ear. “Let me hear them.”

“S-Sir.”

The floodgates of your overwhelming pleasure burst open, then, whimpers and whines turning to moans and soft cries. Hot tears burn in your eyes as the pool of pleasure builds in your center, ears filled with nothing but the loud, wet squelching of your bodies colliding.

“Say my name when you come undone.”

His voice is bellowing, bouncing off the walls of the room. He seizes your hair, suddenly yanking you back until your back is pressed flush against his front.

“I wish for the Count to know who it is making you squeal, which cock is opening your insides and bringing you to orgasm.”

You manage nothing more than a nod, head falling back to rest on his shoulder as he bucks up into you. Truly it’s pitiful, the noises that are coming from your mouth as your climax rapidly builds. And you’d be embarrassed, if it didn’t feel so good.

“Sir Jacques, I...!”

He chuckles, grinning as he reaches around to take hold of your breasts, giving them a hearty squeeze before smacking your bouncing globes. That’s all it takes to send you over the edge with a loud cry of his name, walls spasming and gripping his cock like a vice. 

“J-Jacques, christ!”

Your orgasm is quick to trigger Jacques’ and it takes every bit of his willpower to pull away, releasing out onto the luxurious sheets instead of into your tight, hot cunt. He groans deep in his chest, reaching down and pumping himself through the high.

“Gggghhhh, mmmm.”

Both of you are breathing heavily as you redress in a peaceful silence. Then, Jacques stands before you as you slip your shoes back on, hands clasped behind his back

“I would be remiss if I did not ask...” He looks down at you with a small smile, extending his hand to you. “Have I made a Lady Le Gris out of you this night, mademoiselle?”

You look up at him, laughing softly and returning the smile as he helps you back up onto your feet.  “Mm, you are quite the charming gentlemen, Sir Jacques. Perhaps you have charmed me, but should I take you up on your offer, what is in it for me?”

Jacques gives you a hearty, bellowing laugh, wrapping his arm around you and giving your hip a squeeze as he leads you back up the hall.

“Is my cock not enough for you?”

“As I warned you before, I am a woman not easily won over.” You flash him a playful smirk.

He shakes his head with a smile, stopping under the magnificent stone-carved archway and turning to face you. His hands rest on your hips, eyes searching your face.

“I admit that I am not much for any sort of after-sex commitments, but if you will, I would like to have you on my hip at the next meeting. And then perhaps the next one after that.”

His words warm your cheeks (and perhaps even your heart) and you nod, standing up a bit to press a kiss on his cheek.

“Oui.” You whisper, which brings a smile to his face. “I shall see you next time then, Sir Le Gris.”

Jacques gives you a nod.

“Au revoir, mademoiselle Le Gris.”

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“What in the world are you doing with those kittens?” He asks, voice low and husky. “Especially with it being the full moon tonight. C’mon, you know better.”

Your cheeks burn with a bit of shame. You forgot to check the calendar when you’d promised your friend to take the kittens tonight.

“I completely forgot that tonight was the full moon, honey, and I agreed to take them until ten. I’m really, really sorry; I’ll keep them up in the guest room.”

Flip sighs, shaking his head. “Just...as long as you keep ‘em away from me, they can stay down here.”

“Are you sure?”

He nods. “As long as they don’t come crawling all over me.”

“Thank you, baby.” You smile, reaching up to give him a kiss on the cheek before he makes his way back over to the recliner.

After unpacking all the kitten stuff and making sure that anything potentially hazardous is put away, you let the four kittens out of their carrier and they all start skittering around the first floor. 

Your lips pull up into a small smile as you watch them run around and play with some of their toys. You’re so focused on the ones playing that you don’t notice the one that sneaks off into the living room, curious about the large hairy man seated in the recliner.

His eyes widen when he feels a little furry critter rub up against his paw that hangs down off the edge of the recliner arm and he pulls away quickly.

“Damnit...peanut!”

You look up and see the kitten, standing up immediately. “Whoops, sorry. I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Soon enough, though, the same little black kitten wanders off towards Flip’s recliner. He made the mistake of resting his eyes for a bit, allowing the little kitten to climb up the chair and snuggle up in the crook of his elbow.

He feels a little wiggling on his arm but he doesn’t think much of it, so when he opens his eyes and looks down, he just groans at the sight of the kitten.

“Goddamnit.”

“What is it, honey?” You ask from the kitchen.

The kitten is snoozing peacefully, nestled comfortable into his fur and the more he looks at it, the more he feels himself softening. He huffs. 

“Nothing, nothing.”

It doesn’t take long before you notice that one of the kittens is missing and at first, you’re worried, looking all over the kitchen and dining room. But then, a small smirk grazes your lips when you realize that the only other place it could’ve wandered off to is the living room.

Hmm...could it be?

“Hey, Flip?”

“Mm?”

“Have you seen the black kitten? He’s not here with the rest and I checked all the other rooms, but I can’t find him.”

He clears his throat awkwardly, shifting in his seat. “Yeah...he’s, uh, he’s here.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” You smile to yourself, giggling quietly. “...But I thought you said--”

“I know what I said.” Flip growls, rolling his eyes. You giggle a bit louder at his defensiveness. “Just...whatever. He climbed up here and fell asleep and I didn’t wanna move him, alright? And I guess he’s...kittens don’t bother me as much as cats do when I’m a wolf.”

“Mmhmm.”

As the evening draws on, the kittens slowly follow after their sibling and climb up onto the recliner. And when you come back downstairs from your shower, you have to cover your mouth to keep from laughing too loudly at the sight that greets you.

Flip has all four kittens with him, each climbing all over him like a jungle gym. He’s got a kitten on his shoulder, one making its way across his chest, one resting in his paw and finally, one laying right on the top of his head.

He looks over at you with a grumpy little frown.

“I’m starting to enjoy these kittens a little less.”

You laugh softly. “No you haven’t, you’re just being a grump.”

“Whatever. You can’t prove anything.” He says with a huff, trying to hide his small smile. 

The kitten on his head begins to slip down, paws forcing his eyes closed. He reaches up to lift the kitten off his head, chuckling softly when its tiny claws pull his eyelids up. “Alright kid, time to go. C’mon now, let go of me.”

You giggle as you watch, eventually having to step in when he starts getting a bit frustrated and starts pulling a bit too hard for your comfort. You place the kitten right back down in his paw, kissing the top of his head before walking back into the kitchen for a snack.

If you aren’t mistaken, when quarter to ten rolls around and you have to pack the kittens up for their departure, Flip almost looks a bit sad to see them go. When you’re ready, he brings them over to their carrier and coaxes them off his arms and back inside.

Once they leave, he comes back downstairs and you pull him in for a hug and a kiss.

“Thank you for being so great with the kittens.”

He chuckles. “Just promise me we won’t be getting one anytime soon, okay?”

“Alright, I promise.”

🐺werewolf wednesday 10/20 🌙

The madame seemingly recognizes him when he walks in, silently leading him towards a back room. You’re already fastened into the device when he walks in, leather cuffs holding your legs open and leaving your bare folds exposed to the room.

Jacques smirks at the sight, shedding his cloak at the door before taking a step closer to the 

“Would you like one of our other girls to come in and do a warm up for you before you use the hole, Sir Jacques?”

He hums, reaching out to trace your cunt with his gloved fingers, inspecting you like a piece of meat at the market. “No need. This one will be all I require.”

She nods, then backs out of the room and shuts the door behind her. Now, it’s just the two of you. He draws his hand back, then delivers a harsh smack to your bare folds, chuckling when he hears the chains bang up against the divider.

“Mmm. Your cunt looks promising, little one.” He delivers another smack, then begins work on getting his cock out. “But we shall see how you hold up.”

You bite your lip, feeling yourself slicking up a bit already. “Glad that I am somewhat satisfactory for you, sir.”

His hand lazily works up and down his length as it fills out under his grasp, soft sighs pushing through his nose as he does so. He traces along your slit with his other gloved hand, nudging up against the sensitive bundle of nerves nestled there.

“Sensitive for a harlot, hm?” He hums, tilting his head as he spreads some of your gathered slick onto the head of his thick cock.

Your hips jump a bit with each touch on your clit and he smirks, tapping the erect bud before bringing his head up to tease at your entrance. Before you can process, he’s thrusting in and you’re forced open by his large member.

A soft, barely-there grunt escapes him and he grips the top of the divider wall, moving his hips back and forth at a punishing pace. You can’t help the pathetic whimpers that slip through your lips, back arching up as you chew on your bottom lip to tamper further noises.

It’s incredibly rare for a client to bring you genuine pleasure, but this monsieur, this well-endowed monsieur...you can’t seem to feel anything except pleasure. The divider begins to tremble with the force of his hips and the quiet sound of wood squeaking joins in between your combined bodily noises.

“Tighter.” Jacques snarls softly, forehead resting on the wall. “Tighter.”

You gasp when he lands another swift smack on your cunt, causing your walls to instinctively clench around him. He lets out a gruff grunt, slamming his hips into you even harder.

“There we go, harlot, keep your cunt juuust like this.”

He’s drilling you so hard now, your eyes are nearly crossed, body bouncing up and down with the motions of his thrusts. That vaguely familiar pooling of heat in your core is growing with each sharp jerk of his hips.

His length begins to throb and pulse inside you, indicating that he’s close to climax. He’s starting to lose his rhythm, hips getting sloppy, rhythm growing desperate and rushed. 

“Beg me not to empty myself inside you.”

Your eyes widen, body tensing. “S-Sir, you cannot, it is against the rules--”

“I care very little about the rules, harlot.” His voice bellows through the room, a smirk pulling at his lips. “You best start begging, then, little one. And perhaps you should pray to God that you do not take my seed too well and become a pregnant w-whore.”

A pathetic little whine tears from between your lips in response to his words, the pleas beginning to pour out.

“Please, I...s-sir, please pull away!” You cry out desperately. “Do not do this, please, I am sure you would w-want that even less than I.”

He gives you a breathy chuckle. “Mm, perhaps. Although, I there is nothing quite like watching my seed leak out of an abused harlot cunt...”

“P-Please, sir, ppplease do not do it!”

Your begging only sends him over the edge and he groans, hips coming to an abrupt halt to bury his creamy spend as deep inside you as he can possibly manage.

“Gghhhoohh, take it.” His hips give a few lazy thrusts before he pulls away, taking a deep breath. He tucks himself back into his trousers, eyes glued to your puffy, abused hole as it leaks out his spend.

You’re panting, recovering both mentally and physically from a vigorous fucking, not even fully processing the fact that he’s emptied inside you. Your breath catches when he delivers a few consecutive swats to your still-sensitive, engorged clit. 

“No sight better than a harlot with cunt full of my cum.” Jacques hums with a smirk, collecting some of the leaking seed that’s dripped down your folds with his digits before wiping it on your inner thigh. “Let us hope God heard your prayers, harlot. Au revoir.”

And with that, he’s gone, riding off into the frigid French evening.

🦇10/6 mini kinktober. 🦇

He laughs softly, reaching for his flashlight where it’s attached to his belt.  “Uh yeah, yeah it is, peanut. You’ve been bugging me for months to bring you to a real one and I always told you that when we get one that happened in the woods, I’ll let you tag along. So, here we are.”

Your eyes wander around the scene along with the beam of his flashlight as he points out some things, directing you to stay pressed up against him in order to prevent accidentally tainting the scene. He loves you a lot, Flip does, but he isn’t about to lose his job for you.

“Body was found over there, wallet over there, cash was gone but the ID was still in it. Made the vic ID easy for us, at least.” He lets out a breathy laugh, pointing out all the spots as he talks.

“Can I try and guess what happened?” You ask him, looking over your shoulder with a smile. “And you have to tell me if I get any part of it right.”

Flip hums, nodding. “Sure you can give it a try, peanut. I can’t tell you every-everything, but I'll tell you what I can.”

Thinking for a moment, you come up with a theory, just from what he’s pointed out to you. Granted, he didn’t tell you much, so you don’t have all that much to go on.

“Mm, so I think that they grabbed this guy and brought him out here, robbed him, and then maybe shot him or stabbed him or something to cover their tracks?”

He nods along as you speak and then suddenly, his head whips to the side when he sees some kind of movement behind the trees. Your words halt instantly, turning to look in that direction just as a twig snaps.

“Stand behind me.” His voice is serious and he pushes you behind him, hand reaching for the gun in his hip holster. He cocks the revolver, keeping it pointed towards the trees as he starts backing up towards where his truck’s parked up the hill a bit.

Your cautious steps are synchronous with his; when he takes a step back, so do you, not unlike a well-oiled machine. You’re trembling a bit, trying to peek out from around his broad frame but you can’t get a good look.

“Flip, what’s goin--”

Bang! Bang!

Gunshots suddenly ring through the air, hitting the ground and slicing through the layers of dead leaves surrounding you.

“Fuckin’ goddamn--GET DOWN, Y/N!” He reaches around and pushes you down as he squats, firing return shots. “RUN! GO TO THE TRUCK AND STAY LOW TO THE GROUND!”

You’re crawling up the small hill on all fours, pushing the slippery leaves behind you frantically as Flip follows closely behind you, firing rapid retaliation shots at the trees.

The two of you quickly hop back into the truck and he starts it up before speeding away, chewing the inside of his lip as the truck barrels down the back road away from the scene.

After a stretch of silence, he looks over at you, giving you a breathy, sarcastic chuckle.

“Was that scary enough for you?”

You laugh softly, putting a hand over your chest and taking a deep breath.

“Definitely.”

🏕send me spooky requests for campfire stories! (10/5)

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fic title!

“ 𝐻𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌𝓈 𝒜𝓉 𝐻𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓇𝑒 „

hmmm, is that a trick fic title or a treat fic title? ;)

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