#DO NOT UNTIE THE KNOTS. I AM IMPRESSED THAT YOU EVEN COULD DO THAT. THEY ARE NOT MEANT TO BE UNTIED. BLEASE

[trifoliate-undergrowth]

wuh oh I'm on an indie fragrance kick again! anyway. environmental storytelling spotted here

you just know some pickle hater bought the Dill Pickle Scent and then contacted the store like WHY DOES IT SMELL LIKE PICKLES!!! ONE STAR!!!!

[missroserose]

Whumptober Day 1: Unconventional Restraints

"C'mon, Sammy, it's two o’clock."  Dean grabs one of the rickety kitchen chairs and jerks his head towards the living room in a motion that's plain to read:  up and at 'em, tiger.  "You need a break from studying, you nerd ."

Sam slams shut his giant physics textbook—when did sixteen year olds start studying physics?—and gives an aggrieved sigh.  "Why are we still doing this?  I already beat the handcuffs, like, five times—"

"Yeah, yeah, you're a regular Houdini."  Privately, Dean's impressed; when John had barked the order at them on the way out the door, practice your handcuff escapes daily, he clearly hadn't known just how good Sam was.  Bobby pins, paperclips, toothpicks, even a gaudy goddamn cuff link from a suit John had worn to some charity gala, posing as a sleazy photographer who’d made it to the big time—Sam squirrels them away, hides them somewhere (Dean tries not to think about where), and within ten minutes of the cuffs snicking shut he's back to sitting at the wobbly kitchen table, back to studying, back to ignoring Dean.  "Thought we’d try something different today."

"What, bungee cords?  You know as well as I do how to work the hooks from any angle—"  Bitching his way through the doorway, Sam flops onto the chair, which groans under his weight.  He's still skinny, but he's been shooting up lately—Dean had been making jokes about his upcoming birthday, sweet sixteen, Sammy, don't worry, I'll take you to the prom, until one day Sam had shot back sure, but I'm taller now, you gotta let me lead, and Dean had realized with a start that it was unequivocally true—

"Nah, that shit's for amateurs," Dean says, smoothing over any troublesome thoughts in his mind, taking a minute, enjoying the sight of Sam doing what he's told for a change, even if he does glare up at Dean through those perpetually overgrown bangs.  Why doesn't he narrow his eyes like a normal person when he glares, Dean wonders for the umpteenth time, why are his eyes always so big and wide, even when he sets his jaw in that total bitchface—

"Well?"  Sam asks, and Dean realizes with a start that he's been staring at Sam for a moment too long.

Dean shakes himself mentally, a dog flinging unwanted water off its back.   "You know the drill," he says.  "Hands through the back of the chair."

"Like I'd cooperate with some creature trying to tie me up," Sam grumbles, but he obeys, and that's the important part—that's the part that makes Dean's gut feel warm, the part that makes all the eyerolls and aggrieved sighs and angry silences worth it.  

Dean steps behind him.  “You know as well as I do that not everything out there is going to use handcuffs.”  He unties the slim cord and winds it tight around Sam’s wrists, secures them with a proper figure-eight knot.  He steps back, admiring his handwork, then moves to stand in front of Sam.  “There.”

Sam's face is a picture of puzzlement as he tests the bonds.  "You're joking."

Dean smirks, just suggestively enough to let Sam know there's a game happening.  "Nope."

"Dean."  Sam's trying to use his grown-up tone of voice, now, but there's just enough of a little-brother whine to make that warmth in Dean's belly grow.  "If you're not going to take this seriously, why should I—"

"Oh, it’s very serious.”  The fact that he’s holding in laughter at Sam’s puzzlement notwithstanding.

"Obviously not," Sam says, rolling his eyes.  “I could break this in a few seconds.”  He flexes his wrists, looks down as he tries to work out the sensation.  "What even is this?  Some of Dad's lanyard cord—?"

He stops talking midsentence, but his eyes fly up to Dean's face—or to his neck, which abruptly feels brazenly, pornographically bare.  "Dean—"

Dean's smirk grows wider.  "Yeah?"

"Dean, stop this.  You're just being ridiculous."

"Am I?"  Dean shrugs, the picture of nonchalance.  "Then break it.  You said it yourself, it'll only take a few seconds."

"That's not the issue, and you know it."  

Sam's attention is on him now—not sulky, not bitchy, not half-distracted by whatever's going on in his giant brain, but really on him—for the first time in what feels like weeks. The warmth in Dean’s gut blossoms into satisfaction, toothy petals scraping comfortably along his insides.  "Come on, Sammy, it's easy enough.  Just set your wrists and pull—"

Dean stops talking.  He knows every variation of Sam's face.  Knows when he wants something, when he’s being stubborn, when he’s angry—and suddenly he can’t read Sam at all.  Sam’s eyes are still on his, but they’re the only part of his face that seems alive; the rest has just gone...blank.  Like he's contemplating a reality that was once unthinkable.  Like he's setting aside his feelings—or, no, Dean thinks with a shiver, satisfaction shriveling faster than a fig leaf in winter, like he's setting aside his humanity—

There's an abrupt crack, and Sam stands up, no longer bound.  Or—his hands are still tied behind him, but no longer attached to the chair—the chair that's now sitting in pieces behind him.  He looks at Dean, with that strange empty expression, only his eyes burning, and Dean has to catch his breath.  Remind himself that this is his brother, this is Sam, the goofy kid who loves him more than anything, who gave him an amulet once as a Christmas present, who watched as Dean strung it on a piece of lanyard cord that (he realizes) he somehow never got around to taking off until today—reminds himself that Sam would never hurt him, even if he does have two inches on Dean these days and a surprising amount of muscle underneath that raggedy denim overshirt—

“Take it off,” Sam says, and his voice is quiet, deep, without a trace of teenaged whine.

Dean swallows, his feet already moving behind Sam, dexterous fingers already working the knot.  It takes a moment, the figure-eight having pulled tight, but a minute later the amulet is sitting in Dean’s palm, cord coiled neatly beneath.

Sam takes the amulet.  Steps behind Dean, places the cord around his neck.  Dean can feel his fingers, brush furnace-hot against the back of his neck; a moment later, the cord slackens, the charm dangling at Dean’s sternum where it belongs.

Dean turns to face his brother, lips parting with some manner of remark—a joke, an apology, a demand for an explanation—but it dies when he sees Sam’s face again, leaving him staring up (up, goddamn, when did he start having to look up) at his little brother’s face once more.

Sam looks him over once, nods, and steps back through the doorway into the kitchen.  The moment broken, Dean sags into the chair, the splintered wood digging into his back.  “What,” he mutters to himself, glancing down at his chest, “the hell just happened?” 

The amulet merely sits on his sternum, unconcerned.

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Drifting

I had so much fun writing up the introduction to this request! You’ll probably see why in just a minute too...but, fun fact, the lovely Khaos, the newest addition to the blog, helped me out with this request when I found myself a little stuck!

Khaos added a helpful amount of amazing to the ending scene, so be sure to thank them for their amazing input! Oh, and make sure ya let us know what you think, okay?

I would also like to add that I know it’s been quiet here on the blog and I’m sorry for that but personally, I’ve had some...curveballs thrown at me health wise so you probably won’t see a lot from me. So, yeah.

Navigation 

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

.

 Tamaki slowly peeked up above the ocean’s surface, keeping as quiet as possible to remain unnoticed while he allowed his eyes to land upon the object of his curiosities and affections; swallowing thickly when he realised that you had shown up at exactly sunset yet again, just like always.

 And, as always, you were alone. You had no companions that could prevent him from stealing you away to his secret cave and no one to help you if he decided to keep you to himself. An idea that appealed to him more with each of your visits to the beach.

 What interested Tamaki most, however, was the fact that with each of your visits, you made sure to only come by the secluded beach at sunset; when everyone else had gone home for the day. Tourists seemed to believe all the local’s stories of monsters beneath the water’s surface, waiting for the sun to go down so that their attacks could go unnoticed until it was too late.

 Of course, it was all nonsense. Tamaki was the only merperson to occupy this particular beach and he had been for quite a few years now; any and all monsters were long gone, migrated to places that weren’t so aware of the dangers that lurked beneath the depths.

 But it was also because of the late hour that you came to the beach, that Tamaki couldn’t approach you. He was all too aware of how a human woman might react to a random man approaching them in the water when the sun was beginning to set, shadows casting over the sky and melting the beautiful orange hues into an inky blackness.

 So, instead, Tamaki had to be satisfied with watching you from afar. Appreciating your beauty and daydreaming about all the different possibilities of meeting you; how he could befriend you and get closer, all while knowing it would be an impossibility.

 .

 ~  ~  ~

 .

 Tamaki stared at you with wide, saucer-like eyes, his mouth hanging open while you swam towards him slowly; your body remaining below the water’s surface, hiding the fact that you were without your bikini top.

 The very same bikini top that he held in his hands, a scrap of clothing that he had been inspecting out of confusion given that it was nearly midnight and he had thought that you had left the beach hours ago like you normally would.

 “…I think that’s mine” Your softly uttered words startled him, making him jolt and sink down further into the water while he released the bikini top; allowing it to float up to the surface, harmlessly bobbing up and down with the waves between the both of you.

 “Sorry, I uh, didn’t realise that someone else was here” He muttered out a pathetic excuse for an apology, trying his best not to let his tentacles move into your line of sight; desperate to at least seem normal, even if it wouldn’t be a lasting impression.

  Tamaki gulped nervously as he watched you reach for the floating bikini top, averting his gaze when you shuffled around to put the piece of clothing back on; the hurried movements of your fingers catching his attention with how the water splashed from the clumsy actions. The silence beginning to feel awkward while Tamaki tried his best not to look at you before you were ready, not wanting to come off as a pervert. Not to you.

 “It’s okay, I didn’t realise anyone else was here either. Not this late at night anyways and certainly not with the way everyone goes on about the monsters that are waiting for sunset so they can eat you” You rolled your eyes as the words left your lips, briefly giving Tamaki a once over before nodding your head to yourself; making Tamaki wonder if you were giving him the benefit of the doubt despite how strange it was for him to be here at this time, more so considering that he had technically been holding onto your bikini top.

 Then again, it would make sense for you to assume that he had thought it was a piece of seaweed; because honestly, that’s exactly what Tamaki had first thought when he picked it up.

 It wasn’t uncommon for people to investigate strange and/or suspicious objects that were found floating in the ocean, only to cast them away as quickly as they had been found. Tamaki had seen humans do so more times than he could count and luckily for him, he had had the brains to immediately release the skimpy piece of clothing; a guilty man would have tried to hide it, or simply kept held of it. Not Tamaki though, he had dropped it, allowed you to take it back and even averted his gaze so that you could have some form of privacy while fixing your top; even if it hadn’t been a great deal of privacy. There was only so much he could offer given the circumstances after all.

 However, even with these facts in mind, Tamaki could easily see that you were still on guard and he was happy to see such a thing. It reassured him that you didn’t trust random strangers in the water just because they had been polite enough to look away while you were topless.

 “Still, I am sorry…about your top, I mean. If I had of known what it was…” Tamaki trailed off as his face flushed with embarrassment, the tips of his pointed ears beginning to turn a similar shade of scarlet while he dipped further into the gentle waves of the night’s warm ocean waters; only stopping when his nose was beneath the salty waters.

 “It’s fine, okay? No harm, no foul” You hummed out the words in a soft voice, swimming around to face the embarrassed merman; all the while being completely unaware of what he truly was.

 “So…what brings you out so late?” Your question made Tamaki’s body go stiff, anxiety rushing through his system while his brain scrambled to think of something, anything to say in response to such an innocently asked question; anything but the truth, that is.

 There was no way known that Tamaki could tell you the truth behind his daily visits to this beach, especially when he could live happily and stealthily beneath the ocean waves for the rest of his life if it weren’t for your presence on this beach.

 Tamaki wanted to slap himself. Here he was, minding his own business in the ocean when the opportunity that he would have killed for, landed in his lap. The chance to speak with you, instead of just stare at you from afar and yet here he was, completely and utterly unable to get a single word out; instead, the fears of what could happen filled his mind.

 The terrifying what ifs of you hating him if he opened his mouth and said the wrong thing tormenting him into a nervous silence. Tamaki’s only relief from the situation, was that he would have the memories of having gotten close to you without making you scream and panic; though that also meant that no one would notice if he were to steal you away in that moment, if he took you to a place that no one would ever hope to find.

 But that was something that he couldn’t do and definitely something that Tamaki shouldn’t think about, unless he wanted to fuel the desires that he so often pushed aside. You would surely hate him if he were to do even half of the things that he had thought about.

 “Well, I guess I’ll see you around…” You mumbled out the farewell awkwardly, turning away from Tamaki in order to swim back towards the shore, no longer able to enjoy the solitude of an empty beach.

 “Uh, wait!” Tamaki called out to you again, finally able to find his voice once more as he reached out for you, his hand closing around your arm. Sealing his choice of interaction with you when you turned to face him. He should have let you leave.

 “Your…um, your strap, it’s loose…” He barely managed to mumble out the words without humiliating himself, averting his gaze when he found himself unable to meet your eyes; not needing the added kick of self-loathing on top of his nervousness.

 “You’ll lose your top again if you don’t fix it…”

 .

 “Oh. Well, do you mind?”

 .

 Tamaki gulped nervously as you turned your back to him once more, allowing him to reach for the loose strings belonging to your bikini top; needing to untie the knot that you had created in a rush minutes ago. If Tamaki were telling the truth, the knot probably would have held, but at the same time, he wouldn’t get another chance to let his skin brush against your own.

 Now, he was in heaven, making sure to tie a strong knot while at the same time, being sure that it wasn’t so tight that you wouldn’t be able to undo it yourself later on.

 “There…all done” He mumbled out the words under his breath when he was finished tying the knot, his fingers lingering on your skin for a brief moment, wanting more; though you pulled away before he could get ahead of himself.

 Leaving Tamaki to breathe a sigh of release, all while silently cursing both himself and all of his pent-up desires. More so when you spun around to smile at him, the radiance you gave off nearly blinding his mopey self.

 “You’re beautiful…!” Tamaki blurted out the words before he could stop himself, quickly slapping his hands over his mouth with his eyes going wide in a mix of shock and horror. Mortified that he had said something like that without realising.

 Your eyes went wide, the smile fading from your lips and making Tamaki wish that he had legs so that he could kick himself. Unaware that you weren’t upset, but rather the opposite, never having been so earnestly complimented before; it brought an unfamiliar warmth to your cheeks and to your heart.

 “Um…thanks…” Tamaki watched you as you swam closer to him, torn between escaping to the ocean’s depths and closing the gap between the two of you; desperate for both, yet knowing better than to actually reach for the object of his desires.

 With his mind struggling to choose between the two options, Tamaki froze in place at the worst time; allowing you to move closer until he felt your warm toes brush over his wriggling tentacles, fear filling him when you jolted back in surprise. Your eyes scanning the dark waters for seaweed.

 “What’s…wrong?” Tamaki mentally slapped himself for asking while he watched you lower your head closer to the water’s surface, still searching for seaweed that he knew you wouldn’t find. He was just thankful that it was so late in the night, making it nearly impossible for you to see anything below the surface; you weren’t like him, you didn’t have eyes unaffected by the dark.

 .

 “Well, it’s just…I thought that something touched my leg…”

 .

 Tamaki moved his tentacles as far away from you as he could, praying that the darkness would be enough to push aside your curiosity, but apparently, it was too late; your hands closed around two of his now squirming tentacles as he tried to pull them free of your hold.

 “Y-You…you’re a…” You breathed out in amazement, eyes wide as you stared at him and though it wasn’t in fear, Tamaki couldn’t take it. He wriggled his tentacles free of your grip and dove deep into the water; fearing what you would do now that you knew what he was.

 .

 “Wait!”

 .

 Tamaki ignored the muffled cry for him to stop, determined not to lose the strength it took to leave you behind instead of dragging you into the depths with him.

 Before Tamaki could get too far away however, he felt your hands close around his tentacles for the second time, causing him to freeze on the spot; heart thundering in his chest. He was already struggling to keep himself contained after having his tentacles grabbed the first time, but now it was too much; his tentacles were sensitive after all.

 Tamaki turned around in the water to look at you with a hunger that he had been pushing aside for far too long; using every last ounce of willpower he had left not to grab you and take you with him to his cave.

 The two of you remained submerged for a moment longer, staring at each other through the impossibly dark ocean water of the night. Tamaki knew you couldn’t see him, but your hold on his tentacles was enough to give you a direction to look at and like this, he had the rare opportunity to take in your breathtaking appearance; enjoying it as much as possible before wrapping some of his tentacles around your body and swimming for the surface.

 You were a human, which meant that you needed oxygen. A fact that he had nearly forgotten for a moment there, but either way; Tamaki wasn’t going to let you die. Not now, not when he could prevent it.

 “I’m not…I’m not gonna—” Tamaki motioned you to stop speaking as you tried to cough at the words, a suggestion that you decided to follow given that it was hard to regain your breath and speak at the same time. Given that Tamaki was no longer trying to swim away and that his tentacles were still wrapped around your body, keeping you afloat so that you didn’t have to put any effort into swimming yourself; you figured that you had time to catch your breath.

 “I was trying to say that I’m not going to turn you in. I was just…surprised, I guess” You rubbed at your neck as you explained yourself, your words making Tamaki’s stress melt away while thoughts of adoration towards you filled his mind.

 It was mind blowing to him that a human that had just discovered his secret wasn’t about to go running off telling everyone that merpeople existed and it certainly made him love you more than he already did.

 “Though, I am a little confused. I’ve heard those stories for years, listening to them as a little girl…how going out into the water at night is a terrible idea because monsters from the ocean will drag you beneath the water and steal you away” Tamaki grimaced as you giggled at the thought, clearly having no idea how close you had come to such a fate; even if the end result would have been different. Tamaki wouldn’t have hurt you, or eaten you alive like the old monsters of the ocean would have; no, he would have done so many different things to you. Things that would surely have you slap him if he dared to say them aloud to you.

 “Well, you know…don’t believe everything you hear I guess…” He managed to get a light-hearted chuckle out as he spoke, deciding that for the moment it would be better to keep you entrapped in his tentacles; mostly so that you couldn’t grab a hold of them again and push him into his instincts more than you already have.

 “I guess so, but I don’t know…you don’t seem so bad. Maybe having you steal me away wouldn’t be so terrible” Tamaki’s features twisted into unfiltered surprise at your giggled words, blood rushing through his ears and completely blocking out whatever it was that you were currently continuing on with.

 It seemed you managed to notice the faraway look in his eyes while his mind worked overtime to process your joke. Going as far as to reach out with your hand to brush your fingertips against his cheek, ripping him from his thoughts and dragging him back to reality; your eyes locking with his heated gaze the moment his attention was back on the present you instead of his fantasy version.

 “…You would let me steal you away?” He pulled your body closer to his with his tentacles as he spoke, the slippery limbs tightening their hold on you ever-so-slightly while you gulped nervously; unable to look away from the merman in front of you.

 “…I…yes, I guess so” You spoke softly, unsure words tasting foreign to your tongue but unregrettable all the same. There was a certain air of importance surrounding the spoken words and now you found yourself slowly beginning to sink into the water with a smiling Tamaki.

 It was amazing, how his eyes had lit up with joy at your uttered words. Though it made you think vaguely of the old fae stories, where your word was a binding contract and if that were to be held in the same regard with mer-people, then it seemed like you had agreed to a new way of life.

 .

 “You won’t regret it, I promise. I’ve got the perfect place in mind for you, you’ll be safe with me…I won’t let anyone steal you away…”

[fangirleaconmigo]

For the WIP ask game: virgin sacrifice?

Hi Jenn! Thank you :D

Ok for the wip game ask "Virgin Sacrifice". This is the one where Geralt liberates a virgin sacrifice, and gets something unexpected...a handsome man who begs Geralt to relieve him of his virginity. But nothing is what it seems. I am writing it just to amuse myself, basically. The fic will be Explicit but the excerpt is Gen.

Excerpt:

Geralt took stock of himself before he entered the cave. He tried to smooth down his hair, but it resisted him. He gave up on it and drew his shoulders down apologetically.

If the girl was still alive, she'd be terrified. Terrified people didn’t tend to find his presence immediately comforting, and children were always the most horrified.

But there wasn’t much he could do about first impressions. His scars spoke of violence. And as much as he wanted to think of his eyes as graceful and feline, most people saw them as demonic and serpentine. And when he smiled, it only made matters worse.

Well. He wasn’t getting any prettier. It was now or never.

He crept into the cave. Sticks and twigs defiantly crackled under his boots. Something in the depths of the shadows heard him. It whimpered plaintively.

Geralt moved closer. He squinted, trying to unravel the gloom.

“Are you here to rescue me, good hero?” ventured a voice from the dark. The voice was hoarse and dusty, but it was unmistakably hopeful. That hope made his weary spirit ache.

People in difficult situations were rarely happy to see him. Resigned maybe. Grimly determined. That was the best Geralt could hope for. But the person hadn’t seen him yet. He would lose hope soon enough.

Another thing that struck Geralt as odd was that the voice was masculine, and adult. Young. But adult. It could not be right.

Superstitious types, the kind that offer virgin sacrifices, only tended to involve themselves in the sexual choices of women. Regis, Geralt’s vampire friend, explained it all to him. Fear of women, he’d said. Fear of their sexuality exercised independently.

Also, to ensure they really had a virgin, they chose younger and younger sacrifices with each generation. Town elders and clerics these days hauled helpless, tiny, girl children up mountains to be torn asunder, their lives snuffed out before they can even truly begin.

These were all just generalizations though. And not every woman was, or sounded, feminine. Geralt had lived long enough to know that the entirety of humanity would never fit into one of two discrete sex categories. He tucked his assumptions away and readied himself for anything.

“Eh. Yeah,” he said. He was frozen, unsure of what to do or say. his mind and his mouth refuse to run on the same track. Instead they ground against each other in disharmony. “I mean. I'm here to—“ he swallowed, “kill the monster. But I didn’t want to leave before I got the....virgin.”

“You killed Harold?”

Harold?

Geralt blinked and his eyes adjusted. He made out a huddled figure on the ground. Blue gray eyes blinked up at him from behind a messy, sweaty fringe.

“Harold?”

“Yeah! I had to give him a name. Even if he just snarled at me.” Sounds of awkward shuffling accompanied his answer.

“Why didn’t he eat you?” Geralt was still trying to fit the name Harold into the existing puzzle of a werewolf, and what a young man was doing trussed up as a virgin sacrifice.

“Rude!” the young man objected.

Geralt sighed. “You know what I mean.” He had forgotten all about hunching over, and his hair was as wild as it had ever been. He stepped forward and knelt next to the man.

The young man twisted his body so he could better see Geralt. Geralt wished he wouldn’t. He was glad it was too dark for this human to see well.

“Well I suppose he likes my singing. Liked my singing, that is. If you’ve offed him.”

“He didn’t untie you,” Geralt said, then immediately felt ridiculous stating the obvious. But the large expressive eyes at his knees were doing something interesting to his gut, and it was scattering his thoughts further.

“Well,” said the captive, scooting and wincing in another attempt to see Geralt’s face. “I’m quite sure he intended to eat me. It was just a matter of him getting hungry enough to kill me despite the entertainment I was providing.”

“Ah.”

“Also, he doesn’t—-didn’t, may his soul rest—have opposable thumbs. But you do. So please, my good champion?” He tried to scoot closer, grunting and trying to push his wrists forward to offer the ropes. They were wrapped tight around broad shoulders and narrow hips, and Geralt couldn’t help but notice that this was indeed a grown adult.

“Um, sir?”

“May his soul rest?” Geralt said stupidly, his mind coming back to focus.

“Please?” The young man wiggled.

“Oh yes. Sorry.”

Geralt reached for the first knots, forcing the man to turn his back to him to allow him to reach the knots on his arms.

“What’s your name by the way, good knight? I’m Jaskier.”

“Geralt.”

Geralt meant to tell him he wasn’t a knight. He meant to. But his mind was muddled, he was distracted, and perhaps he was enjoying the eagerness of this Jaskier just a little too much. No matter, he would soon be untied, and he would see Geralt. At that point, Geralt wouldn’t need to say anything. Jaskier would know exactly what he was.

He quietly made short work of the knots, each rope unspooling and thudding onto the ground.

“Alright. Well. You’re free now. And safe.” He threw in that last part so that Jaskier wouldn’t panic when he saw him.

Jaskier exhaled and scooted in a circle so that he could see Geralt. Geralt was still on his knees, and Jaskier sat cross legged, rubbing his wrists. He regarded Geralt carefully, leaning forward to squint through the gray of the cave.

“Well. Aren’t you gorgeous? We could’ve left some of those on if you’d liked.”

Geralt could have been relieved that Jaskier didn't run screaming. And there had been many a lonely night as of late, where he had yearned for a flirtation from a handsome young man, even if that man was covered in a film of dust and wearing a shit eating grin. But he didn’t want to be relieved. He wanted to be annoyed.

“You are not a virgin.”

.... (to be continued)

[scorbleeo]

Under the Skin | Drama Review

2022

Image Source: Google Images

The young painter Shen Yi resigned from the Academy of Fine Arts and entered Haicheng Public Security Bureau mysteriously. Interpol Captain Du Cheng was furious and said that he would never accept those who caused his comrade to be killed in the police force.

Five years ago, Shen Yi, who was still a student, was sketching on the street. A man took a picture of a child and asked him to draw what the child would look like as an adult. However, this painting caused Haicheng detective Lei Yi Fei to be exposed as an undercover agent and he was killed. And Lei Yi Fei happened to be Du Cheng's long-time friend and confidant. The strange thing is that, no matter how hard Shen Yi tried of recall for a few years, he couldn't draw the face of the man who asked him to paint the child's photo.

Five years later, the guilt became heavier. In order to find out the truth, Shen Yi accepted the invitation of Director Zhang of the Public Security Bureau and became a portraitist of the Interpol Team. Under Zhang Ju’s persuasion and arrangement, Du Cheng had to accept that he became a colleague with Shen Yi, but he was still full of annoyance and despised Shen Yi’s “drawing to solve cases,” and the two became the “ticking bomb” in the team.

However, in several collaborations, Shen Yi has repeatedly cracked the "dead end" of cases with his "three-year-old painting", "drawing based on audio," "micro-color discrimination" and other stunts, which slowly started to impress Du Cheng. More importantly, the truth of Lei Yi Fei's death is still buried in Shen Yi's memory. On the way to find out the truth of Lei Yi Fei's life and death, the two people who were pursuing alone gradually untie their knots and rely on each other. In the end, "the heaven-matched partners" work together to uncover the dust-covered secrets and create a new world for each other.

Source: MyDramaList

My Favourite Chinese Drama!

Crime, mystery, thriller, these are common genres you see in dramas, TV shows and movies. However, I loved that in Under the Skin, it's the portrait artist that gets the spotlight. There is always be a portrait artist in shows like this but they are never the main, which makes Under the Skin more unique than other crime-related dramas. It's a rather refreshing take in watching this team solve cases based on Shen Yi's godly artistic skills. It also made me realised just how important a portrait artist is as well, in spite of technology advancing rapidly these days.

If you are planning to go into Under the Skin thinking this show is going to blow your mind with its cases, don't. The cases might be constructed and portrayed really well but there's nothing special about the cases in this drama. What makes Under the Skin more extraordinary is the the chemistry between Shen Yi and Du Cheng. This is not even a BL drama but our two main leads have more chemistry with each other than some BL couples. I absolutely loved watching Shen Yi and Du Cheng work together to solve the cases, their skills are on different parts of a spectrum but boy do they make their skills match each other so well! I really have to applaud Tan Jian Ci and Jin Shi Jia, these men were what made Shen Yi and Du Cheng so charismatic and admirable. Moreover, if you know what these men's personalities are like, you would be blown away by the amazing talent that is their acting. Absolutely mind-blowing.

Honestly speaking, I think it also helped that Shen Yi's artistic style is right up my alley. I have watched plenty of shows where one or a few roles are artists but I was never impressed by their art. Shen Yi's drawings though, that's the style I love.

It is an understatement when I say I am very impressed by this drama. The story, the cast, the roles, the cinematography and the flow, they were really what I appreciate in a drama. Under the Skin kept me at the edge of my seat the whole time and I just could not stop watching it. I would also like to add that even though that was a cliffhanger ending, the drama actually wrapped up what needed to be wrapped up.

To wrap this review up, please let there be a second season with the exact same cast, thank you very much.

Rating: ★★★★★

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Boys and sticks - Chapter 78 🚷

Fandom: The Hobbit (Modern Au)

Characters: @linasofia x Thorin, @laurfilijames x Fíli, me x Ori

Words: 1.6 k

Warnings: mention of violence and a tad of blood

“Are you alright?”

For a second, I almost believed that Thorin was about to do a headcount as the policemen ushered us one by one out of the big doors, scanning every person suspiciously.

They had not found the person responsible for this act of random vandalism, but they also looked more annoyed than alarmed; they were probably convinced that it had been one of our own students who had tried to ‘liven up’ the party by setting the trash on fire.

Personally, I was also much more irritated and preoccupied with what Thranduil had told me than with someone relishing in burning waste; the overwhelming sensation that I was part of the problem rather than of the solution started to weigh on me.

“We better go home,” Thorin declared, which would have been so much more impressive if his painted-on whiskers did not twitch as he spoke authoritatively; it kind of ruined the air of gravitas and I could not help imagining his tail swishing from side to side impatiently.

“Well, saddle up and off we go,” Lo chuckled and pinched Fí’s ass shamelessly.

“Jia’s man could fly her home?” Tova joked tiredly which got an equally exhausted eyeroll out of me, for the fun and jokes in reference to the costuming were overshadowed by a general sense of dread; something was wrong, and we could all feel it in our bones.

As soon as the door fell into the lock behind us, Tova nodded discreetly toward her room and gave Thorin a long, serious look that let him know that she wanted to talk to us in private.

“Alright, spit it out,” Lo was untying the sexy knot in her shirt, buttoning it up carefully instead and changing the whole vibe of her appearance by that simple modification; suddenly, she looked painfully young, lost in her boyfriend’s button-up.

“Az was never like that…” Tova started, but she interrupted herself, “wait, yes, maybe he was just like that, but I didn’t see it because I just didn’t care enough. We were young and I didn’t worry overmuch about boys at that time.”

“He hates them,” I interjected tonelessly; I had seen enough cold hate and I had suffered enough blazing anger to recognise the signs. That man wanted to wreak havoc and – if he had been the one to set the fires – I was well afraid that this was not the extent of his petty and destructive endeavours.

“He sure does,” Lo nodded, hugging the shirt and its consoling scent closer to her chest, “and how do we feel about that? Isn’t it funny that only this afternoon we’ve joked about the men bringing drama into our lives and – in the end – it might be us who end up being responsible for the worst things to ever happen to them?”

Tova cocked her head; she had been so engulfed in her own share of blame and guilt that she had almost forgotten that it had transpired that Jia’s family might have supported the man who was responsible for Thorin’s people’s fall from grace.

“Sometimes,” I whispered, “I feel like my life is written and played out by some evil puppeteer that hovers above everything, and I am but another puppet dancing on a string.”

How was it possible that we had been so inexorably drawn to these men? Sure, we came from the same region but from different backgrounds; I was almost certain that I had never met or even seen any of them before going to college, and it made no sense that our lives seemed to be entangled with theirs to this point without our knowledge.

“Jia,” Tova’s hands settled slowly but heavily on my shoulders as she forced me to look at her, “do you want out?”

It was such a simple question.

“This is the moment, maybe the last one, where you can walk away without really picking sides,” she went on softly.

“Would you walk away?” I asked back in the same calm tone and then, turning to Lo, I asked her the same question.

“Hell no, I’ll get Fí back what he’s owed…if all else fails, I’ll marry the man without a prenup,” Lo shrugged; she was fearless in more ways than I could count. She did not doubt her own mind or her own strength.

“I cannot, Jia, if I thought for one second that Az would leave Thorin alone if I left, I might, but I know that he won’t,” Tova smiled wistfully, “so I’m in this for better or for worse. Unlike you, I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

“Unlike me? Have you seen my father? Have you seen fucking Ori in his silly costume? I will pummel both but not in the same way, if you get my meaning. No, I’m all the way in,” I said resolutely, and we shook on it.

“Time to tell them then,” Tova grinned, knowing what a fuss Thorin would kick up.

“So, gents,” Thorin tore off his fake ears and tossed them on the kitchen counter, “what are we making of this?”

“If that asshole touches one hair on their heads, I will tear him to shreds,” Fíli said with a nonchalant grin that was razor-sharp under the surface layer of good-humoured jest.

“It’s funny you say that, because Jia – yes, Jia of all people – said something very similar,” Ori commented with an uncomfortable rolling of his shoulders; he had seen that the woman he loved more than anyone was even beginning to understand had been dead serious when she had threatened to inflict physical violence upon that pale stranger.

Thorin cocked his head from one side to the other pensively, his feline make-up fitting the movement excessively well, before nodding: “Yes, I believe they would.”

He wouldn’t put it past them anyhow; they had seen their fair share of misery and were at least as possessive as their chosen men.

“I am afraid Tova holds herself responsible for that piece of shit,” he opened up about his main worry.

“She’s not his mother; she couldn’t have aborted him and spared us all the trouble,” Fíli replied carelessly, but he knew what Thorin meant, “she’s not, none of them are.”

He knew that both Jia and Lo struggled with what Thranduil had told Jia; it was a discussion they sooner or later would have to have…and he was not sure what he was going to tell them.

Did he hate the kind of people their families were? Yes sure.

Did he love them – personally – more than the sun and the rain that made the flowers grow? Just as certainly.

“Should we…forfeit the game?” Thorin asked seriously; as a fair captain, he had to give them the chance to walk away from a potentially dangerous situation.

“I have to admit that I find the idea of Lo body-tackling that asshole kind of hot,” Fíli joked, but upon seeing Ori’s panicked face, he mellowed and shrugged: “It’s as you want; I am not afraid of him.”

“I am not afraid of him either…I just wonder what it will do to the girls,” Thorin snorted, hurt in his pride.

“I am afraid of what the girls will do to him,” Ori interjected, only half-jokingly, “Jia is on a crusade, I am afraid.”

“Okay, Ori, tell me how do you do it? What is it about you that makes completely gentle, polite, and well-bred people go rabid if they so much as suspect that someone is threatening you?” Fíli laughed, thinking of Dori and his absurd protectiveness when it came to his youngest brother.

“I am dainty,” Ori replied mockingly, but – deep down inside – he had to agree with Fí when it came to the fact that it was all kinds of touching to know that these A-students, these prim and proper young ladies would brawl if it came down to it to defend them.

“We really should forfeit the game,” Thorin muttered; he knew that it was the best way to prevent and avoid the inexorable fight that would break out as soon as they faced that man on the court, but his pride stung like an open wound when he but thought about tucking his tail between his legs and run.

“We really should,” Fíli agreed but the same pugnacious light shone in his eyes; they were just not the kind of people to turn away from a challenge, especially if they knew that they were in the right and the other party was in the wrong.

Before they could agree on anything though, they were called by the girls and – just as they were about to move towards the still closed door of the bedroom – a loud bang resounded, and fast steps retreated from their front door.

“Fíli, the girls,” Thorin barked, freezing where he stood, cat-costume forgotten.

Fíli ran towards the door and slipped through it as it was opened from the inside.

“Stay,” he commanded, “Thorin and Ori will check what that was.” He picked up the hammer Lo had dropped onto the bed and held it so tightly in his hand that his knuckles turned white with tension.

“No, I want to know,” Tova protested, gasping when Fíli barred her way with one outstretched arm.

“I will keep you safe,” he growled, “I’m sorry but neither one of the other two would ever forgive me if I let you out of here before they made sure that everything is clear.”

“Something could happen to them,” I begged but his eyes were hard and intransigent as he nodded; he was aware of that but that was a risk they were willing to take.

“Fí, keep the women inside while…we take care of this,” came Thorin’s voice – strained and weirdly muted – from just outside the door.

When we were finally allowed to leave the room, the portier was standing in the hallway, right next to a bucket full of bloodied water, holding a black plastic bag with an expression of utter disgust on his face.

[thorin-is-a-cuddler]

Beach Rules

A/N: Paladins at the beach? Sure! Platonic everyone. This is Keith and Shiro centric. And there’s loads of tickling and simping, yay :D

„Is that…“

„No, it can’t be!!“

„Oh, but, but… guys, it’s…“

„A beach!“ Shiro stepped out of the castle, joining Pidge, Lance and Hunk on the surface of this vacation worthy planet with a disbelieving expression.

Allura followed, taking her helmet off and actually giving one of her rare honest smiles. „Yes, a beach. This is the planet of Basoria. 10 000 years ago, this planet has already been one of my favorite places to be. It seems incredible that the Galra haven’t taken over it. But since there are no intelligent beings on here, they probably didn’t see the point. It’s a save place. Coran and I wanted to offer you this. A day off at the beach. With everything you’ve already done, paladins, I am happy if I can give you something back.“

The three younger paladins shrieked happily, shouting their thanks as they took off running for the shore, shoes flying and jackets landing in the sand. Shiro turned his head to look at Allura with a smile. „This is amazing, Allura. I think you couldn’t have made them happier.“

Allura tilted her head and put a hand on Shiro’s left arm. „I was hoping you would enjoy this as well, Shiro. You have been working harder than anyone of us. You deserve a day’s rest.“

Shiro opened his mouth in surprise, a little overwhelmed by so much attention and a little lost for words. Fortunately Keith chose excatly this moment to step out between them, a grumpy expression on his face. „A beach?“ He asked with a raised eyebrow, obviously sceptical about something that involved such a big amount of fun.

Allura narrowed her eyes at him in annoyance, having hoped for a rather different reaction. „Yes, Keith. A beach. A place for relaxation and happiness. I’m glad to see that it disgusts you so much.“

Allura went to take off her armor inside the castle, mumbling intelligibly under her breath. Keith merely sniffed and shrugged as the princess moved away, crossing his arms over his chest and looking outside with a wary expression. Three cheerful paladins were splashing around in turquoise water. They were still dressed in t-shirts and pants, but didn’t seem to care a bit about the additional soaked weight. Keith had never seen them this outgoingly happy.

He felt a weight on his shoulder and saw that Shiro had put his hand on it, an encouraging smile on his face. „Go on, Keith. Don’t worry so much. I bet it’s fun out there. Give it a try.“

Keith tilted his head slightly and looked away, a little crease appearing between his eyebrows. „Hmmm. I don’t know, Shiro.“

The warm dark eyes of the older paladin changed, giving room for worry. This guy managed to catch up to everything. „What is it?“

Keith huffed and shook his head slightly, fond of Shiro being so perceptive, yet at the same time wishing he weren’t. „It’s just… I don’t know. I- I’ve never… well, I’ve never been to a beach before. My father and I never went on vacations, you know.“

Keith shuffled around slightly, trying to act as indifferent as he could, while he was actually dying from insecurity inside. He sent a tentative side glance in Shiro’s direction and saw the realization in his expression. Keith smiled and shielded his eyes against the sun.

„I think it’ll come naturally to you, Keith.“ Shiro said softly, making Keith look at him again in surprise. „All we have to do is go out there and… do the next best thing.“

Keith blinked at him, pretty unsure about this much spontaneousness. „And what would that be?“

Shiro put his finger on his lips thoughtfully, making Keith start to consider that maybe Shiro had just as little clue what to do at a beach as he had. His features softened a little at that impression. Where Shiro knew pretty much everything about him, there was little Keith knew about Shiro in connection to his past. Shiro kept most things locked away behind so many doors that walking through all of them could take years. Keith had barely managed to walk through the half of them.

He sighed deeply and slid out of his jacket, leaving it in the castle. „Let’s start by making ourselves more… beach ready.“ Keith made an awkward motion towards his t-shirt and then bent over to take off his shoes and roll up the legs of his pants.

Shiro smiled at that and copied Keith’s actions, stripping to his sleeveless muscle shirt and rolling his pants up as well. For a second he was insecure about the bulgy skin where his right shoulder merged into the metal arm. But then a sudden feeling took over him and made him forget about any insecurities. Was that… giddiness he felt in his stomach?

There suddenly was so much energy inside of him that he had to get rid off. He looked at Keith staggering around on one leg as he tried to keep the material of his pants rolled up on the other leg. And a grin spread out on his face.

He suddenly knew exactly what he had to do.

„Keith..“

Keith looked up in time to manage a very surprised yell, before a very strong arm wrapped around his middle and lifted him off the floor. „SHIRO WHAT ARE YOU-“

„I know what we have to do!“

Keith clawed his fingers into Shiro’s foreram, holding on to him tensely as the pilot started running with Keith dangling from his side, shaking him quite thoroughly. Despite that Keith almost sighed in relief as fresh air ruffled his hair and blew under his shirt, giving him goosebumps and drying his sweat. It felt like flying through the desert with Shiro all over again. The memory of their races untied a knot in Keith’s chest and he suddenly had to let out a laugh as Shiro readjusted his grip on him, lifting him even higher than he’d been before.

„Don’t drop me!!!“

Shiro’s smirk was audible in his words as he raised his voice as well. „Oh, I will drop you in a bit!“

Keith tensed up again and looked to where Shiro was headed. Pidge, Hunk and Lance in the water had noticed their approach by now, curious happy smiles on their faces as they got closer at a dizzying speed. The realization hit Keith and he started struggling, almost causing Shiro to drop him himself.

„NO YOU WILL NOT! DON’T YOU DARE! SHIRO!“

But Shiro wasn’t bothered by Keith’s defiance in the slightest. His soft laughter mixed with Keith’s gasps and yelps and put a warm feeling in his shaking stomach.

Keith’s struggles grew stronger the closer they got to the water, forcing Shiro to swing Keith’s in front of his chest to be able to hold him there with both his arms.

Keith’s fists drummed against Shiro’s forearms, as the pilot reached the shore and took a few steps into the water. How Shiro managed to stay strong enough to hold him like that with all his laughter was a freaking mystery to the paladin of the red lion. „Enough with the violence,“ Shiro chuckled, „Time to cool your head!“

Keith’s knees were pulled up to his chest and he was eagerly trying to keep himself in that pulled up position by wrapping his hands around Shiro’s head behind him and holding on. „I DON’T THINK SO!!“

„Oh, but you will let go,“ Shiro growled, a playful tone to his voice that made Keith’s stomach drop.

„YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!!“

„Ah, Keith, you really bring this upon yourself,“ Shiro chuckled and kept his metal arm wrapped around Keith’s middle, the other suddenly dangerously unoccupied and close to his side and ribs and this was when it clicked, but too late.

„SHIRO WAIT-“ Keith shouted out in panic, trying to pull himself up higher to get away, but it was to no use. Shiro’s fingers were already squeezing his side and making their way up and hell on earth, it tickled so much, Keith had never thought anything could tickle this much.

Any plans for holding back his giggles were diminished immediately, as he broke out into hysterical squeals and deep uncontrollable laughter, twitching around like a fish as Shiro’s fingers were crawling up his side, over his ribs and right in the center of his exposed armpit. He really meant to keep his hands behind Shiro’s head, pulling at his hair to keep from being dropped. But forget that, he couldn’t take this without fighting back. It felt like Shiro was tickling him with twenty fingers at least where he was only using five and it wasn’t fair and it led to Keith’s unavoidable fate.

„SHHIHIIHRO NOHOOO PLEEEHEHEHEASE!!“

„I won’t stop until you let go!!“

„BUT THEN YOU’LL DROOHOHOP MEE!!“

„Beach rules, Keith. You are obligated to have fun!“

One last arch in Shiro’s arm, then Keith couldn’t stand it anymore and he tore his arms down, trying to push Shiro’s assaulting hand as far away from his ticklish torso as possible, when it was already time for a dive in the waves of Basoria.

Keith shrieked, when Shiro’s arms suddenly stopped holding him, honest to God shrieked - as if he’d needed any more embarrassment in front of the others. The cold water caught him quite gently though. There were no burns at the impact of the water, there was no water shooting up his nose. There was just a nice feeling of floating around and having his hair fly around his head.

He welcomed the feeling happily. But only for a few seconds. Then his wish for revenge grew too strong and he speedily made his way back up to the surface. He managed to find a stand on the sandy underground, the water up to his chest where it had been up to Shiro’s waist.

Shiro. With narrowed eyes and wet hair clinging to his forehead he saw Shiro quickly making his way deeper into the water, looking over his shoulder, laughing breathlessly.

„OH YEAH YOU BETTER RUN!! JUST YOU WAIT TIL I GET YOU BACK!“

Shiro almost slipped from laughter at Keith’s bubbly attempts oto swim after him, completely out of breath, but fueled with the desire to give him a taste of his own medicine.

In the meantime Pidge was busy climbing on top of Hunk’s shoulders in her soaked shirt, where she held on to Hunk’s hair with one hand, pointing at Shiro with the other and letting out a war cry that would have scared away Galrans. „FUGITIVE ON THE RUN! GO GET HIM! AID OUR TORTURED FRIEND!!!“

Keith almost sunk under the surface from his surprised laughter. He hadn’t expected the others to come to help him. They liked to watch Shiro tickle him into madness during sparring matches rather comfortably. But this. Maybe this was also part of the beach rules. Everyone against the strongest one. It seemed like a good rule to Keith.

Shiro on the other hand was barely able to bring much more distance between himself and the others as panicked laughter started to slow him down. Lance was gaining on him, as Hunk grabbed Pidge from his shoulders and used all his strength to throw her in Shiro’s direction, getting her closer to him as well.

Shiro thought it clever apparently to change tactics and stopped swimming in the one direction to make his way in the other one now.

Keith had to chuckle as he heard Shiro’s breathless gasps for air get closer. Alright, if this was a fun time at the beach he was sold. Now they only had to catch him.

„YOU GUYS, THIS ISN’T FAIR!!“ Shiro shouted, smiling widely as Pidge and Lance were getting awfully close.

„BEACH RULES!!“ Keith yelled as he too was getting closer to Shiro who was trying to make his way to the shore to be able to run away. He’d be way too fast for the other paladins if he managed to reach it. They couldn’t let him get away.

„Oh no, you will NOT!!“ Lance exclaimed passionately as Shiro was stumbling to his feet in the ankle high water. The plue paladin took a large dive and actually managed to pull Shiro down with a splash. The two of them rolled over in the warm part of the water, Shiro breathless from laughter already while Lance was yelling almost as loud as Pidge had before.

„You did it, Lance!“ Keith cheered as he too got to his feet in the low water, throwing himself on top of the other two. Shiro groaned with laughter at the additional weight and tried to push the two of them off of him.

„Now, just wait a second, just wait…“ Another weight took away Shiro’s breath as Hunk dropped down on top of Keith, slowly but successfully building a sandwich.

„We have him! Do we have him?“ Hunk spluttered and looked at his two friends underneath himself. Keith held up a thumb, despite the lack of air.

„We’ve got him! You guys are the best!!“

Pidge arrived with a wide smile on her face and was a bit reluctant to putting herself on top of the three boys as well. She didn’t have to anyway. Instead she dropped down next to Shiro’s face and grinned at him evilly.

„Ha, you didn’t see that coming, did you?“

Shiro glared at her, still out of breath, but he just couldn’t keep it up and a soft, playful expression was back on his face again in no time. „I guess Voltron’s bond must be really strong already. Just don’t lose your head in the process…“

All four of them groaned inexplicably loud at this bad pun and Pidge felt no sympathy for him in the slightest as she told the other three to give him hell just for that. Even though he was pretty doomed in his current position. He couldn’t move out from underneath the three boys and all of them put their hands to good use some place on his tall upper body. Hunk was pinching his sides, as Keith worked his hands under his arms and Lance immediately used his position for good access to Shiro’s ribs.

Pidge was blessed with the picture of Shiro throwing his head back in ticklish agony, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth opened in the brightest smile, as beautiful laughter was shooting out of him.

He couldn’t fight off six hands with just two and Keith enjoyed strongly making him laugh this hard, especially with the aid of his friends. He could tell that Shiro was very fine with them having their fun like this and it warmed Keith’s heart that Shiro was so selfless and soft in every situation. He looked at Shiro throwing his head from side to side, shaking with incessant giggles and trying to arch his back against the overwhelming sensations and he just knew that Shiro would never stop doing whatever it took to make him happy and have fun despite the times they were living in.

He knew that there was no „Voltron losing their head“. Shiro’s love was the starting point of all bonding among the paladins. He was the heart of the group.

Keith certainly knew that. And the others would at the very latest agree now that Shiro’s determination had managed to connect all paladins in having fun together.

[lovestrucked-again]

Delirium VIII

Summary: After being kidnapped and claimed by the notorious mafia leader, he offers you a 7 day period where you’ll be given the option after of staying or leaving. Until then, you’re stuck, whether you like it or not.

Pairing: Mafia leader X female reader   Word count: 3.7k

Genre & Warning: SMUT, BDSM - paper bonds LMAO, sex toys - vibrator, porn videos, oral sex (male receive), fingering, hair pulling, possessive, toxic and yandere like personality, humiliation, rough, orgasm denial, begging, orgasm control, praise, teasing, pee mentioned but no urophilia just Taeyong being obssessive over Y/N, being babied 24/7.

a/n: Okay so my holiday is finally here and ive finally had time to do this but ive put off my other collab accidentally instead... I am also finally getting to the climax of this story soon.

prev | next

Day 4 Continued

Your pulse is racing, the discomfort countering the wild sense of excitement. It’s not like you were completely stuck, you could free yourself with a sharp tug at your wrists but, you didn't want to.

You're a little irked that he’s left you like this for so long, but then again, it hardly surprises you considering the last teasing threat you made. Not like it was my fault though.

As soon as Taeyong left for the door, you had fallen back against the wall, desperately waiting for the release you were constantly climbing but could never reach. The chastity belt was only removed after he had returned from answering the door, the delivery food that had been ordered instantly trashed as he walked back to you blankly.

It should hardly surprise you how Taeyong thinks and works. It doesn't surprise you that his got you bound to his kitchen chair, naked and waiting. Doesn't surprise you that your ankles are once again tied by a thin nylon rope on the outside of the front chair legs. Doesn't surprise you that his managed to get you into a position with a vibrator deeply plunged into you, leaving the protrusion at the base nudging against your clit. However, what does manage to wonder you, is the fact that he walked out the front door almost 30 minutes ago and stated he wouldn't be back till lunch.

Had the device not been twisted an inconvenient one-eighty degrees inside you, you could just adjust it, switch it on and set it growling within and against you, rather than just staying fitted on the seat tight and inert. But that would mean ripping the crepe-paper bonds with which he had tied your wrists behind the chair-back. Your restraints he had improvised from the wrappings of your dress he bought the day before, carefully choosing it instead in case of any ‘unexpected circumstance'.

“Tear yourself free if you want,” he whispered in your ear having completed the delicate knotting, “but if you do I'll fuck you up properly and deprive you for the rest of the day."

So you were behaving yourself, staying in place, rocking back and forth as much as you can to create friction between the smooth surface of the sex toy to your clit. All while the images play out before you on screen.

He had picked a DVD from his modest but carefully put-together treasury of hardcore pornography. Placing the chair, you were straddled to, in front of his flat-screen, surrounding it with speakers for you to enjoy the maximised audio-visual experience of the sweating, groaning, foul-mouthed fuck-action.

“Pay special attention to the third scene,” he had warned you before leaving, “Because everything he does to her, I'm going to do to you.”

The sometimes limited appeal of porno visuals was hugely enhanced by your current situation. You can’t help but watch, enthralled, as a parade of pornstars drizzle themselves liberally with oily lubricant, massaging it lovingly into their curves, while the hired studs looked on in grinning anticipation, stroking their big erections. The same girls were then worked over vigorously by their hung-and-hoisted admirers, as you gazed, shifting vainly to increase the sense of traction inside your own filled pussy. Not for the first time that day you were writhing frustratedly yet again in an effort to bring yourself to climax.

Then the other sensation began to compete. There had been an excited knowingness in Taeyong’s eyes at odds with his calm demeanour as he had encouraged you to drink water. Now the liquid was draining south, filling you up and thwarting the desire which had been mounting, as you clench your groin muscles to stem the flow.

“Better not move,” he had warned you. While you could easily escape and relieve yourself both physically and pleasurably, you’re unwilling to countenance the prospect of his threat, not yet at any rate, so you endure your swollen bladder, resisting the urge to relieve yourself all over his living-room rug.

You sit and squirm and endure, watching as the DVD's third scene kicks in. Physical discomfort cannot squeeze out the thrill and the shame as the particular porn scenario unfolds before you. The slender girl with the hair sticking oily to her body to a slippery sheen. Submitting herself to the smug fuck who gets to nail her. Everything he does to her...

Your eyes widen and your throat holds in your breath. Oh my God. What is he doing, what is that... Then the urge to pee and the need to wrestle it overtakes your concentration and you curse at Taeyong all over again.

By the time you hear the key rattle in the lock, you had held yourself on the edge of bursting for over an hour. The DVD is still churning out its explicit content, incoherent fuck-noise pouring from the speakers, but you were long past paying it any mind. All your focus was on holding in the water.

You meet his gaze squarely as Taeyong walks through from the entryway, tilting your chin back defiantly whatever the torment from below, whatever thrilling fear you might feel regarding his next move. And you stay silent, just staring at him a challenge through your suffering and waiting to see where his whims would take you. The expression on his features is something between benevolence and amusement. Your pulse accelerates further as he approaches you; the arrogance in his bearing was tempering by something almost respectful, as he reaches out and strokes your damp hair. A ting of arousal builds only dimly through the pain from your distended bladder.

Taeyong contemplates his next move while he watches you. 'Irresistible' is the word that occurs to him, though that he keeps to himself. Your hair draping your slim shoulders rather stickily right now. A sheen of moisture glossing over your skin like on that hottest of summer weekends, a trickle of sweat making its path between your breasts' pert mounds, descending over the lightly-padded trim of your stomach towards the pink, vibrator-crammed revelation of your split thighs.

“You haven’t moved. I’m impressed.” His voice is soft and only mildly taunting as he tosses aside the bag he had been carrying and his firm hand touches your face gently. You gasp as his fingers trace a sweat-slick path down your neck, your body responding to him in spite of the need to relieve yourself. His hand cups the moistened curve of your left breast and he fondles you rhythmically till you groan. Slowly his fingers glide to a point over your sweat-moistened surface and pinch hard at your engorged nipple. The shudder is visible, you know. You feel like you can hardly hold yourself in any further. Then he’s behind you, kneading again, his other hand flat on your sternum and plunging gradually, till it firmly applies pressure to your lower stomach.

“Miss me?” he growls softly, as you wince and clench.

You laugh sarcastically, “I was distracted,” you tell him, your voice shallow. “Sensory overload. And no joke, but if you keep me here I'm going to piss all over your chair and that’s on you.”

Taeyong can’t help but chuckle “Whoops,” he says, raising his hand from your stomach. “My bad. Let me help you - you've been very well behaved. So far.” The final words are as ominous as they are soft-spoken. You try to hide your trembling as he drops to his knees and begins to untie your bound ankles, head between your thighs, breath flowing all over your splayed gash as he works.

As he leans in, completing the unfastening - you watch fascinated as his carefully groomed head of dark hair hovers around your crotch releasing the strong teeth around the base of the vibrator. Grasping your hips for leverage he draws the toy out leaving a residual of moisture and a stronger need to pee.

You manage to hold on and fight the urge to tear the wrist-bindings which you so easily could have done. Everything felt like a test, like Taeyong was testing your trust in him, your trust in this unexplained relationship.

Unsurprisingly, he stands up instantly and with an intimidating vibe, the vibrator in his hand is stowed into your mouth nearly choking you with your own flavour.

“Hold that while I get your wrists.” There’s a casual roughness to his tone that bites at your arousal while also pissing you off slightly, even as it drives you wild. And then, with a rip you’re free of all bonds, apart from the emotional one which is linked to Taeyong. He leans in behind you, hands encircling your slippery waist, his voice in your ear tender again. “Now, anywhere you'd like to go?”

Arousal seems to override your suffering as you feel your nipples resolve into hard points at his touch, at his breath on your face, yet you fight it. “Bathroom, please. Seriously. I can't hold it in.”

Taeyong was always in awe around you, yet again once more by the natural sensuality of you, the way your back arches and your breasts thrust out searchingly as he caresses around your skin. He strolls around the chair casually before, sliding his hands around your waist and under your thighs, scooping you easily into his arms. You link yourself around his neck for support and lay hazily in his grip as he carries your nude form from the living-room.

“You are a bad man,” you whisper breathily.

“You have no idea, baby.”

Your eyes lazily glimpse around the surroundings, noticing the direction you’re headed in is not where you wanted to go, “Why are you...”

Carried into his spacious bathroom, you realise with a jump of your heart how literally he was taking your request. You cling to his neck as he tips your back and lays you over the end of the bathtub. The porcelain surface feels cool on your flushed hot skin. You find yourself almost inverted, ass plumped against the curving wall, legs spread and hooked over the curved end of the bath, the intimacy of your swollen sex all on display for him.

“There you are,” Taeyong says lightly, as he disentangles himself from your grip. His hands roam meandering over the wet slopes of your breasts, upwards to your stomach and thighs. He was enjoying this intensely, enjoying your body and your predicaments. “You asked for the bathroom.”

Clearly, Taeyong could always outdo himself, always managing to shock you with some unexpected surprise. And for all the physical urgency to release, you feel your loins spontaneously tighten against it. Somehow, you felt weaker under his fingers, somewhat enjoying the overwhelming amount of wickedness that seemed to humble you into submission. Maybe perversely he wants you to give in early, prove you don't have the courage you acted upon with earlier in the day.

“Well?” His face hovers some way above the split between your legs. “What are you waiting for? I can let you do it alone, but I'll tie you up after and leave you alone for the longest time...”

“No need.” Your face feels hot and flushed, embarrassment fighting with excitement. Whatever.

You raise your head and shoulders from the tub and your right arm reaches around his neck, hand latching itself to the back of his head, fingers clutching into his hair. Your upper body stiffens as you cling to him for support, but the lower part of you releases and you give in. Taeyong hides the faintest shock as you don't talk back, watching your face as you grip him, sharing his gaze as you relieve yourself from the built up water, an unreadable look in his eyes.

You release your hold on him, as he reaches for the extendable shower head from above and tests the temperature against the sink. Laying back onto the bath surface, you allow the pale gush of water to roll across your belly, spilling around your breasts and channelling through the valley, splashing around your neck and precociously upturned chin. Taeyong places a soft kiss against your forehead as he brings the water around your skin.

“Did I do well?” you whisper, eyes closed as the lukewarm water runs over your thighs.

“You did,” he murmurs, trying not to let show the strange awe that he feels. “Very well.”

Your body feels weak and tired but you still feel weirdly pleased with yourself. The smile on Taeyong’s face is softer and it assures you. His fingers massage the back of your body, focusing on the parts where you would’ve felt the most tense from being in a tied position.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, hearing the shower head fall against the sides of the tub.

“Nothing.” He hums back, removing his shirt to the side of the tub as he leaves the bubbles to wash off your skin. Your face falls close to his chest as he leans against the edge of the bathtub.

And he lays you back down again, flipping the cap off the body soap once more and squirting the gel all around your lower stomach. You gasp a little as he begins to spread it all around your mound, slightly embarrassed as he cleans and rubs at it. “Just making sure you're properly clean.”

His voice is soft, his attentions careful and deliberate. He soaps with one hand, the circular movement slowing till his thumb rests on your clit. You gasp at the sensation, your whole body bridling under his touch. Peering up you can see him working you intently, his fingertips moving in minute circles on you, while the hard bulge of his cock strains in response against his pants.

He reaches with his other hand between the fork of your legs and you feel him strum back and forth for a moment over your sensitive lips. Your body follows in response and you shudder. Then suddenly, two of his fingers plunge inside you and commence to fuck briskly in and out and yet again you’re lost to all else.

The only thing you knew was Taeyong playing you and the erotic swell of his music throughout your being. Your eyes close and you give yourself up to it, moments from earlier flashing across your consciousness: the firmness of his hands as he tied you to the chair, his words in your ear - 'everything he does to her...' - the writhing, thrilling torment in which he had left you. Only now with your clit able to bloom freely under his touch, your pussy responding and lubricating to the traction of his diligently thrusting fingers. You recall the way he had denied you so cruelly in the morning and fear he would inflict that agony again, but his touch only intensifies and quickens, bringing you rapidly to your high.

“Fuck.” You manage to mutter, under your breath. Taeyong finds himself cherishing the sight of your lovely form squirming and humping under his attentions. Drawn to it. He clutches your loins all the way through your orgasm, your cunt tightening urgently on his pumping fingers, your juice flowing all over his palm.

His cock continues to squeeze against the zipper of his trousers as though trying to burst its way out but he attempts to ignore it. Somehow, you’d done it again. There was something about you that just managed to lull him into tenderness, that makes him prioritise your pleasure over his.  

You slump back onto the porcelain, spasming just a little further from his hands on you. He reaches across and draws you up with one hand to your upper back, the other still between your legs gently stroking the wet moisture of your cunt.

“How did that feel?” He could hear the edge to his own voice, desperately driving his soaring lust. “How did it make you feel? All of it?”

You stare at him as through a daze, temporarily rung out by your climactic explosion.

“Open.” Your eyes fix on him more firmly. “And exposed. It made me feel exposed.”

“And did you like that?” he asks with quiet relish.

“Yes I did.” You can feel a surge of anxiousness and excitement fluttering around your stomach as Taeyong slides his hand up around the roots of your hair. His hand bunches around the strands of your loose hair and he can see the disconcerted look return to your face.

“Well then, you're going to have much more of what you like.” He rises from the bath's edge and with his cum-smeared hand plucks at the front of his jeans, unfastening in a few swift moves. Both trousers and briefs fall down, allowing his erection to spring stridently into view. “Now get your mouth around me.”

You can feel the prompt of his clutching hand against your scalp, but after the sweetness of your orgasm you don't need to be asked again to give what he wants. Pushing all reservations aside as to his longer-term intent, you bring the hard velvet of his tip and suck.  The snarl of pleasure in his throat only adds to your effort as you work harder, feeling him resolve to steel in your mouth as you provide a hard suction on his first few inches.

His fingers tighten in your hair and he can’t help but push you down further onto him, his smooth thick pole surging to the back of your throat as you choke. He holds you firmly in place for a moment, then retracts his cock and begins to thrust repeatedly, fiercely into your throat. You can hear the sound in your own ears as you gag around him - straight out of the porn scene to which he had drawn your attention to. You’re the girl from the on-screen action now, the little facially-abused girl. He pulls right out, leaving your lips drooling before him.

“Remember the safe word?” Taeyong questions in a low growl.

You stare past his saliva-wet cock, straight into his eyes, “Yes.”

You were ready to test yourself, trusting when you had enough, he would stop. For now, you stare and open wide, inviting his renewed plunge.

It comes just as demanding as the first time and you take it all the way down this time without flinching, swallowing him to the balls and letting him fuck your face. You grasp around his thighs, steadying yourself as you feel his length filling up your mouth, attacking your throat, and feeling it succeed in accommodating all. He withdraws again and you let your mouth slobber freely, never breaking his gaze.

“You want more?” There’s an evil hint in his voice, as though he expects you to be cowed by his onslaught.

Yet you manage to shock him once again, “Yeah, I like it,” you whisper, almost daring him. He stalls slightly, letting the words sink in before ripping himself completely out of the remaining clothing in a few brief seconds.

“So come get.” He backs away, cock still erect and slick with saliva. “Come on baby girl, come and get it.” In a different circumstance, if this wasn't you, he would have laughed at such a proposition, never bothering to play with the women he fucked. But you just had something so interesting and alluring that made him insanely driven to all your next moves. Everything about you was so unexpected yet so captivating. And it makes him only more insane for you.

And as your days continued beside him, you seemed to have forgotten all of your morals, only craving his cock to be inside you – whether it was your mouth or wherever he wanted. So dignity be damned, you climb soaking over the side of the tub, clamber onto the floor and begin to crawl after him, wondering how well he likes your bare form pursuing him like this.

“That's it, baby, come to me, come get another taste...” You make a mad shuffling dash for him, mouth agape to take in his cock bobbing head, but he catches you by the shoulder and holds you off, “Come on, suck me.” But as you struggle to capture him with your lips, he persists in his restraint. “Show me how much you want it. Try and get your mouth around that cock,” he teases.

Asshole, you think, even as you fight him. He lets go of you suddenly and this time it was you who surges onto him, fitting your mouth and slotting yourself forcefully to near the base in a single fluid motion – leaving you rather impressed by your own success.

Taeyong moans in amazement, taken aback to find his cock all but engulfed by your mouth. Your hands clap to his upper thighs and he gasps deeper, as you haul him tight to you, taking the last of him down yourself. You hold your face there, your gaze looming in on his and holding the look. See how good I am?

He grabs you by the hair, harder than before, and you yelp. “Bad baby girl” he grumbles. “And you were being so, so good. Keep your hands to yourself.”

“But you liked it, didn't you?” you ask, the words coming out without crossing your mind.

Taeyong shakes his head and clicks his tongue in disapproval, “We do this on my terms,” he says evenly, hoping to mask his admiration with sternness.

The façade he puts up doesn't faze you and you continue hiding your own smirk, “Can't I improvise a little?”

Just as easily as you read him, he notices the mischief in your voice and he crams four fingers in your mouth to shut you up. Your eyes bulge at his assertive intrusion. “You don't improvise at all,” he warns. “You do what you're told. You speak when you're told. Apart from one word. And that word ends everything, okay?”

You nod, mouth still full with his fingers. Your heart continues thumping from the sheer sport of it all. You had taken so much over these past few days, explored all your inner desires with what he had given so far, yet the thought that he could still shock you was bewildering.

“Now get your ass to the living-room,” he says as he withdraws his fingers, “we have something to finish.”

[weirdlittlecorner]

Lin Kuei Hospitality: Cyrax

Notes: nsfw, 18+, comfort

Plot: A little slower, a little more sensual. Because Cyrax is a great character and deserves more attention and love

h/t = hair texture

Tags: @lilliannmac @onesillybeach @icy-spicy

—

The five men stood patiently as they awaited your decision. There was no doubt that any of them would show you a good time, which only made it harder to choose. You pursed your lips as you considered your options. Eventually, your attention shifted to the man in yellow. His dark skin and beautiful hair made him stand out as the most handsome of the men. But funnily enough, it wasn’t just his looks that drew your eyes to him. His demeanor was much different than the others. While he was standing at attention, as disciplined as the rest, there was a small crack in his stone exterior. As if he were in pain, though there was obviously nothing hurting him. That you could see, anyway.

It was almost as if he couldn’t stand being in the others’ vicinity. You wondered what could have happened to warrant such a reaction. This was the first time that you had ever seen any of the warriors up close, so you had nothing to go off of. It was most likely just some petty drama that was common amongst roommates- if they could even be considered as such. It would make the most sense. You, too, had your friends that you loved dearly, but you couldn’t imagine actually living with them every day. Either way, it wasn’t your place to pry.

The Grandmaster cleared his throat impatiently, motioning toward the line of men once more. Clearly wanting you to hasten and pick one so the rest could return to their business. Offering the dark-skinned man a warm smile, you nodded, “Come on, let’s get out of here,”

—

“Thank you for my new buzzsaw. I was able to try it out today; your work is very impressive,” The man, Cyrax, whispered as the two of you made your way through the long corridor to get back to your room. You smiled at the compliment, though that nagging confusion didn’t allow you to fully enjoy his words. His new buzzsaw. The one that had been amongst the new additions to the Grandmaster’s standard request.

What exactly did a clan like the Lin Kuei need all this new technology for? Again, it really wasn’t your business what your clients did with your products. But you couldn’t help but wonder... Whatever was going on, you just hoped that it was at least somewhat ethical.

__

The impending ‘improvements’ were a sensitive subject amongst the warriors. Cyrax had taken the most offense to the idea, as any normal person would, yet his fellow assassins thought that he was the crazy one. No, what was crazy was forcing one to give up their free will in exchange for the efficiency of automation. But he didn’t dare challenge the Grandmaster. Doing so would result in the most severe punishment; as if becoming a fusion of flesh and metal wasn’t already punishment enough.

“Hey, I noticed that you kind of… seem at odds with the others. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I just thought I’d ask if you wanted to talk about it,” You broke the silence, sinking down onto the bed and patting the space next to you. He claimed the empty space, sitting close enough so that your knees touched.

By the way his brows knitted together, you half-expected him to tell you. But he merely shook his head after a moment, “I am not at liberty to speak on the matter. But thank you for your concern,” His voice was even and had that same cold quality that was the standard, but you could tell that there was great sadness behind his words.

Instinctively, you opened your arms out to him, willing him to position himself in between them. You weren’t really sure what you had expected to happen, but soon enough, Cyrax was locked in your warm embrace. You gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, basking in the silent comfort of each other’s embrace. But soon you felt his shoulders stiffen, along with a kiss being pressed to the base of your neck.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” While you had been excited for tonight’s proposed activities, now was obviously not a great time. You wouldn’t ask him to perform for you just because it was what the Grandmaster had ordered. He needed, deserved, a break. And while you would certainly enjoy the contact, you refused to degrade the man. But he clearly didn’t think the same way. Not when his face was still buried in the crook of your neck.

“I understand that. This is something I want to do,” His words made you shiver as renewed excitement tore through your abdomen. Well, in that case…

A rough hand quickly found its way into your h/t, h/c locks, effectively undoing the delicate hairstyle. A pleasured shiver wracked your body as he used your hair to bring you closer to him as you two shared your first kiss of the night. You hummed as the tip of your tongue darted out to drag itself across his bottom lip, granting you an elicit moan in return.

Without breaking the intense oral lock, Cyrax’ hands freed themselves from the mess of hair in favor of untying the knots in your overshirt. You moved your dominant hand to assist him in the process while your other hand remained cupping his face. Shrugging to remove the fabric from your shoulders, you reluctantly pulled away to unclasp your bra. Seeing that you had things under control, Cyrax removed himself to focus on shedding his own clothing. But not before giving a hard, playful tug on the hems of your pants, effectively pooling them around your ankles.

A giggle slipped past your parted lips as you bent down, yanking your pants, along with your panties, off the rest of the way and kicking off your boots. You repositioned yourself so that your knees pressed against the soft sheets as you returned the favor to your partner. Eager fingertips clawed at the form-fitting armor, as if that would make it disappear faster. Cyrax hummed in amusement at your eagerness before unbuttoning the clasps and untying the knots for you. Impatience turned into wonder as your hands brushed over his chest. His abs. His shoulders. All of which were hard bands of muscle, but also soft in a way. Even his body reflected the gentle demeanor that had separated him from the others. The two of you were content to sit just like this, fingers exploring each other’s bodies.

You embraced each other, much like how you had done previously. Though this time, the intention was very different. The warmth radiating off of the two of you was almost unbearable, but you ignored it as you took to kissing each one of his prominent muscles. He sighed softly, enjoying your impromptu muscle worship. This continued until the pooling heat in your respective pelvises won out and you just had to go further. Cyrax shifted so that his legs boxed in your hips. Pressing himself against you once more, he brought his lips down to your manubrium to plant soft kisses in the crevice of your breasts. Meanwhile, his right hand was making quick work of his pants and boxers, his hard length pressing against your inner thigh. Which, if you might add, was already slick with your dripping arousal.

There was obviously no need to pregame, as you were both more than ready. You didn’t think that you could tolerate more teasing, anyway. Impatient once again, you wrapped your hand around the head of his penis to guide him in. The man groaned as your walls began compressing his cock immediately. With a few more pushes, he was completely in, reveling in the feeling of being consumed by your flesh.

Sighing, your arms found their way around his broad shoulders as he began thrusting into your tight core. The sounds of your mutual pleasure were only slightly louder than the creaking sounds the bedposts made as they scratched the wall behind them. Your e/c eyes closed in bliss as you enjoyed the rocking sensation of intercourse. His lips found yours once more as his speed increased and his hands made their way to your s/c legs. In a fluid motion, your ankles were craned toward the headboard as he pushed himself deeper. The sensation of your cervix being stroked caused you to scream, and you were glad that no one could hear you. You hoped not, anyway. What were once your gentle fingertips rubbing your lover’s back turned into talons that began clawing at the tingling flesh.

If it had hurt, he didn’t complain. But despite your muddled concerns, the feeling of you scratching his back only enhanced the warrior’s experience. He grunted each time your hips met, feeling his climax approaching. And you were right there with him, your smaller body trembling as the familiar knot twisted in your stomach. It kept building, and building until the knot finally uncoiled itself with a burst of wet heat. It felt as if the sun had just imploded inside of you and that you should be a pile of ash. But you were whole, despite the thick dick that was still stretching your pussy relentlessly.

Your screaming had grown impossibly louder as the warrior continued to batter your walls in anticipation of his own orgasm. What seemed like endless abuse to your cervix abruptly ended when you felt a spray of liquid spattering against the muscle. Your lover grunted, his brown eyes screwed shut and his bottom lip bleeding from his teeth cutting through the skin, as he hosed your insides with his warm semen.

Despite having finished, Cyrax made no move to pull out. Rather, he chose to rest over top of you, his cock warm inside your trembling hole. You allowed it.

There were no words. Maybe when you could think clearly again, you would be able to find your voice. It might be a little hoarse, to accompany the ache that would surely be present when you tried to walk in the morning, but that sounded like just that: a morning problem.

[mypoisonedvine]

Ties That Bind, Debts That Burden | Curtis Everett x reader

for @stargazingfangirl18​ and @navybrat817​‘s august challenge!  my prompt was the gif!

summary: you didn’t expect the man who bought you to be so kind.  you didn’t expect to fall for him, either.

warnings: death of a parent character, kidnapping, implied noncon/mentions of noncon, sexism, sexual slavery (mentioned), dub con (but not in the way you’re expecting), implied age gap (everyone is over 18!! as always!!), semi-public sex, breeding kink, loss of virginity, pain kink (slightly)

word count: a bit over 4k (and I wrote it all in one day... hey that rhymes!)

[this is another one of those things where the fic itself is dark due to the subject matter, but the character in question is not ‘dark’ in the traditional sense.  so, curtis is a good dude, it’s everyone else that sucks; this is a dark fic tonally, but not sexually per se]

Life in the tail section was ruthless.  It was all about survival, and survival was about being stronger than others.  You weren’t strong.  What you did have was your father, and he had kept you safe all your life, even before the two of you had lived in this terrible place.  He was a sort of leader; people looked up to him, and as a result, they obeyed his wishes to stay away from you.  Even so, you could sense that a lot of the men in the train were just waiting for their chance to take you.  Women who didn’t have significant skills to offer, women like you, were seen as a commodity with only one purpose.  Less like wives and more like slaves, they were traded, sold, and bartered for like clothes or rations.  It made you feel sick, but most of all it made you terrified for what would happen when your father couldn’t protect you anymore.  He was strong, but old, and so tired.  You hated to see how hard he had to work so late into his life, just so that you wouldn’t have to suffer.  

When he died, it almost didn’t feel real.  Even though it was sort of expected with the way his health had been declining for months, it was nothing you ever could’ve imagined.  A world without your father meant a world you were truly alone in… and only now did you confront the real cruelty of life in the tail section.

You woke up to being dragged by your hair; you screamed and kicked, but there was little you could do as you were thrown down onto the floor.  Your worthless fighting was muted as rags were used to bind your wrists and ankles, and a gag silenced you.  You looked up to see you were surrounded by men, with one-- you were pretty sure his name was Jamie, you’d seen him around before-- standing up and hovering over you.

“Her father is finally dead!” he announced to the crowd with a dirty smile that was missing a few teeth.  “I got my hands on her first, but I’m willing to sell her to any reasonable bidders.”

“Five rations,” one voice quickly jutted in.

“Five-- what the fuck are you talking about, man?  Everyone’s been drooling over this little tart for years and you offer me five rations?!  Get a grip,” Jamie spat.  

“Twenty,” another called out.

“Getting warmer,” Jamie laughed.  “Come on, boys, she’s never known a man before.  This is truly a priceless opportunity.”

“Thirty!”

“Thirty-three!”

“Best I can do is thirty-five.”

“This is preposterous,” Jamie scoffed.  “She’s a virgin, and look how cute she is when she cries!  If nobody’s gonna make me a suitable offer,” he growled, suddenly grabbing you by your neck and putting his face right against yours, “maybe I’ll keep you for myself, hm?”

You sobbed and tried to squirm away but it was beyond useless, your bound limbs overpowered easily as he held you down and licked a stripe up the side of your face, just to hear you scream behind your gag.

“I’ll take her,” a deep voice boomed suddenly.  “A hundred rations.”

“A-- what?” Jamie stammered. 

You tried to look around at who it was but you couldn’t see very well in the dark.

“It’s more than enough,” the man continued.  “Hand her over.”

“Curtis,” Jamie greeted awkwardly, and your eyes went wide with recognition, “I… didn’t take you for the bartering type.”

That was an understatement.  You knew Curtis, like some of the more chivalrous men of the back car, was a long-standing boycotter of this sort of activity.  He didn’t even seem interested in the women who wanted to sleep with him, let alone those who were being sold against their will.  Seemed like his patience had worn out, and he was finally giving in to his biological needs, no matter who would suffer cruelty along the way.  Just your luck that it would be you for sale when he gave up on his morals.

“I didn’t take you for the type to stall when he’s offered a great deal,” Curtis replied coldly.  “Now give me the girl and take your payment.”

Something must have changed hands, but you were too busy staring at the corrugated steel floor and hoping it was all a dream that would end any moment.  

You lurched back as Jamie picked you up again, tossing you to Curtis who caught you awkwardly.

“Have fun with her,” Jamie encouraged, “make sure it’s loud enough so we can all hear; a little consolation prize for the rest of us.”

Curtis said nothing as he turned and dragged you to his bunk, ignoring your muffled pleas.  When he set you down, he kneeled beside you and put a hand on each shoulder to brace you.

“I’m going to take off this gag, and your ties,” he offered, “but you need to stop crying, okay?  Everything will be alright.  I won’t hurt you.”

You weren’t sure you believed that, but you tried to steady your breathing.  Maybe if you did what he said, he would be gentle with you…

You nodded slowly, and he untied the gag.  Your sore mouth appreciated the reprieve as you wiggled your mouth around to stretch your lips.  You had sort of assumed that whoever bought you would leave the restraints on, so that you wouldn’t fight back.  But Curtis was so strong and healthy, he didn’t even need to bind you: your body tensed up again at that realization.

“Shh, shh, calm down,” he requested as he worked on the knot around your feet, “you don’t need to be afraid of me.”

Finally your limbs were freed, though that freedom was wasted on exhaustedly falling to the cold steel floor.

“Use this rag to clean off a little,” he instructed, handing you a cloth that had been soaked in water, “and go back to sleep for the night.”

“You… you’re not going to…?” you murmured, confused.

“I don’t believe in enslavement,” he shook his head.  “Your father was a good man; he did a lot for me, even when I had nothing to offer him in return.  He told me to pay him back by keeping you safe after he was gone.”

You hadn’t realized your father knew Curtis so well.  You’d seen him around, sure, but he was more a stranger than anything.

“Thank you…” you whispered, your voice hoarse and ragged.

“You need to rest,” he whispered back.  “You can sleep in my bed-- someone’s already claimed yours, I’m sure.  I’ll be on the floor beside you if you need me.”

Your cheeks burned with guilt.  “Curtis, don’t do that.  You spent so much on me... I don’t want to be any more of a burden.”

“Don’t worry about that now,” he soothed, “we can talk in the morning.  Get your sleep.”

After washing yourself hastily with the rag (focusing most on wherever Jamie had touched you), you slipped into the sheets on his mattress, finding him different from the ones you were used to, but comfortable in spite of the unfamiliarity.  

Curtis settled in on the floor, and in the near-darkness you could just make out the silhouette of his face as he closed his eyes and relaxed against a roll of tattered clothes as an improvised pillow.  You’d always thought he was handsome, and the impression you’d gotten was that he was patient, and honorable, but kept to himself.  You could remember just a few nights ago when you never could’ve imagined this being your new life.  Although you did wonder if Curtis was simply waiting for the morning to claim you, in the meantime you decided to take him at his word and just be thankful that someone seemingly kind had bought you instead of Jamie or his fellow bidders.

Two weeks later...

If anything, it was odd how little Curtis had asked of you.  He didn’t even really talk to you.  Even your father expected you to help him with anything you could; sometimes it was just keeping him company, listening to him.  But Curtis all but avoided you.  All that said, his presence was rarely needed to keep you safe.  People respected your father, but they feared Curtis.  He wasn’t violent-- well, he wasn’t violent typically.  Nearly a week ago he had gone to fisticuffs for you after a man had tried to grope you.  The weird thing was that you hadn’t even realized Curtis was nearby: one moment you were alone and being pulled into a stranger’s oppressive form as he purred in your ear, the next Curtis had appeared and shoved him off of you.  That seemed to get the point across that Curtis’ things were not to be touched.

Feeling guilty, you decided to do whatever chores you could think of while he was away from his ‘room’ (which was, of course, not a room at all but a bed draped with a canopy of tattered fabric in order to create some privacy).  You waited for his return with a little smile on your face, sure he would be grateful for your service and maybe would start to warm up to you more.

“Hi, Curtis,” you greeted with a peppy grin when you saw him approaching, jumping up from where you had been sitting.

“You washed my clothes,” he noticed instantly.

Your smile fell when you realized that he wasn’t happy.  “Did I do something wrong?” you asked sheepishly.

“You are not my slave; I cannot make that more clear,” he frowned.  “Never do a chore on my behalf again.”

“Please, Curtis.  You’ve done so much for me, just let me prove my usefulness.”

“You want to be useful?  Stay out of harm’s way.”

“Oh, I see,” you sneered, “you don’t want me to do your chores because I am your chore.  Is that all you see me as?  A debt you are repaying to my father?”

He seemed confused by that question.  “What else could I see you as?”

“A partner!” you protested.  “A woman!”

He grabbed you suddenly, pulling you into him by your wrists.  “Stop talking like that.  I won’t hear any more of it.  Just stay quiet and take care of yourself.”

He dropped you as you began to cry, crumpling into a ball on the floor.

“Don’t cry,” he frowned.  “Why could you be crying, when all I told you was that you don’t have to do anything?”

“I suppose I should be thankful that you’re not sadistic,” you explained with a shaky, weak voice, “but you’re still plenty cruel to me, I hope you know that.  You ignore me completely-- and no one else will talk to me, because they’re afraid to upset you.  I’ve never been so alone.”

He sighed and sat down beside you on the floor.  “I never meant to…” he trailed off.  “I bought you to save you from them.  Not because I had any purpose for you.”

“I have no purpose,” you stated plainly, moving from sad to stoic.  “Don’t you hear how sad that sounds?  Can you blame me for being upset when you’re telling me straight to my face that I’m useless?”

He seemed to at least see where you were coming from with that, looking to the side with an oddly guilty look in his eyes.

Suddenly, he reached to pull up his shirt and you gasped when you saw a cut along his side.

“I fell,” he explained, “and scraped against something.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you comforted to the best of your ability, “I hope it’s not giving you too much trouble.”

“It’s not, but I’m worried it’ll get infected.”

You thought for a moment.  “I could… help you clean it?”

“Sure,” he nodded, “that would be nice.  Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” you shrugged as you grabbed a rag to dampen.  “I’ll be right back.”

You cleaned his wound in silence, carefully washing away the dried blood, even when he sucked in breaths through his teeth as you touched the sensitive places.  The task at hand distracted you from your previous outburst; this was exactly proof of why you needed things to do, you’d go crazy otherwise.  

“I don’t think it’ll need stitches,” you informed him as you put the rag away and rolled his shirt back down.  “We’ll just clean it again tomorrow and I bet that’ll be enough.”

“Good,” he nodded.

The day was winding down to a close already, and you looked around to see a lot of the people nearby starting to prepare for bed, if they weren’t already on their mattresses with their eyes and ears covered to block out the distractions of those still awake.

“I think you should take the bed tonight, since you’re injured,” you offered.  Up until now, you’d been alternating nights on the floor; it was the only compromise you two could come to.

“I couldn’t ask you to sleep on the ground two nights in a row,” he shook his head.

“You’re not asking me to.  I’m telling you that I will.”

“I won’t take the bed.”

You crossed your arms and grinned stubbornly.  “Then we’ll both be on the floor.”

“Fine,” he sighed with defeat, “I’ll take the bed, but only if you share it with me.  I can never sleep well when all I can think about is how cold and uncomfortable you must be.”

You were surprised to hear that, because you had always felt the same way on the nights you were in the bed.  Seemed both of you were getting worse sleep than you let on.

“F-fine,” you stammered, realizing how little space the two of you would have to work with on the mattress, “we’ll share it then.”

“Might help with the cold anyway,” he shrugged as he stood up, removing his outermost layer of clothes before slipping behind the curtain that surrounded the bed.  You swallowed, as if you hadn’t realized until now that you were going to be in bed with him so soon.  

You removed your jacket as well; even though you normally liked to sleep in something less bulky than the dress you were wearing now, you figured he would protest if you were in any state of undress while sharing a bed with him.

As you pulled the curtain aside, you found him already on the farther side of the bed, facing away from you.  He was so far off the edge that he surely would’ve fallen if there wasn’t a wall on the other side.  

“Curtis, you’re twice my size and you’ve left nearly two-thirds of the bed for me,” you chuckled, slipping into the covers with him and noticing how much space was still left between you.  “Relax, won’t you?”

“Alright,” he relented, laying back a little as his shoulder brushed against yours.  

“Goodnight, Curtis,” you mumbled as you settled in and got as comfortable as could be reasonably expected, letting your eyes fall shut.  Sure, it took awhile, but with a forced relaxation you were able to drift to sleep and stay that way for quite some time.

At some point, you awoke to the softest noise beside you.  At first you thought it was just your dream, but then you heard it again-- Curtis was breathing strangely, and you jumped up when you heard a strained noise of pain.

“Curtis!” you hissed into the dark.  “Are you hurt?  Is everything alright?”

“What?” he stammered, jolting away from you.  

“You were--” you started to explain, but then you realized he was palming at his trousers; specifically, he was stuffing his cock back into them.  “Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, “I didn’t-- sometimes you just-- I never meant to--”

“Are you feeling… frustrated?” you asked him softly, moving a little closer to where he was pressing himself back against the wall.

“It’s fine,” he assured you, “I’m fine.”

“Let me help you,” you pleaded.  “I wanted to help you so much, but there was nothing I could do.  Let me do this, please.  I want you to feel good…”

“Your father, I promised him--” he began, but you interrupted.

“Don’t talk about my father,” you requested.  “You kept your promise.  I’m safe.  Let me thank you for all you’ve done.”

Your hand reached out and made contact with his heaving chest through the thin layer of his shirt, beginning to trail down over his stomach and finally to the hard outline inside his trousers.

“W-wait,” he stuttered quietly, even though you felt him quietly sigh with relief as you palmed at his erection.

“I don’t want to wait anymore,” you whispered-- so quiet even you could barely hear it-- as you leaned in and your nose brushed against his cheek.  “I wanted you for so long, Curtis, did you not know?  Wanted to touch you… wanted to make love with you…”

He let out a long-held breath as you reached into his trousers and wrapped your arm around his length.  It was so hot in your palm; it warmed you in the most intoxicating way.

“R-really?” he murmured.

“Of course I did,” you answered, moving your hand and slowly stroking him.  God, the poor man must’ve been so pent-up: he was bucking into your touch already, his cock so hard that you wondered if it was hurting him.  “Every woman on the train lusts for you.  To have you so close and not be able to do anything about it, it was torture.”

“Nothing compared to what it was like,” he groaned softly, “to want to have you for so long and feel horrible for it.”

You began to pump his cock faster, seeking more of those beautiful noises he was making.  The way his length flexed against your palm made arousal tingle all throughout your body.

His hand slipped to the back of your neck, his fingertips brushing up against your hairline and making you shiver.  He whispered your name and you felt like putty in his hands, so distracted by your own need that the pace of your strokes faltered briefly.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments longer-- foreheads pressed together, shivering and shaking and panting in each other’s arms-- before a rush of adrenaline gave you the confidence to speak.

“I want it inside me,” you whispered against his ear.  “Please, Curtis, I want you inside me.”

You swung your leg over to straddle him, pushing yourself up off of his chest.  He whispered your name with shock as you lifted your tattered dress and pulled it over your shoulders.

“Touch me,” you begged.  “Didn’t you want to?  I wondered if you did.  I wondered how your hands would feel…” you trailed off as you grabbed his wrists and guided his hands to your waist.  They were strong and rough, and so hot against your skin that you thought you might just burn up right there.  He moved them on his own then, sliding them up to your breasts which he gently grasped.  You sighed a little and melted into his touch.

His thumbs teased your nipples, which were already hard and alert.  You tried your best to suppress your moans, aware that many other passengers were sleeping nearby.  Secretly, the idea that they would hear Curtis pleasuring you was almost titillating.  You hoped it would make them all jealous.

“You’re so soft,” he whispered, “and… smooth…”

“Did you long for me?” you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“Yes,” he finally admitted, “yes, I wanted you.  I want you now.”

You reached down and grasped his cock again, guiding it to your wet, swollen opening.  He made a noise that sounded something like a whimper and a groan as the head of his cock moved through your folds.

As you sunk down, you tried to ignore the burn of his cock stretching you open, though a pained whimper escaped your lips.  

Curtis’ hands gripped your hips tight enough to bruise as you slowly took more and more of him into you.  His head fell back with a groan, lost in the way your walls gripped him tighter than he thought possible.  In that moment, he wanted more than anything to hold you close and never let go.

You shivered as your hips met his, feeling full in a way you could’ve never imagined.  It still stung as he forged a new path inside you, moulded you to his shape, but you didn’t mind because it was him.  

You were so weak that you struggled to lift yourself on top of him, but he gently guided you to lessen your load.  Your body adjusted to him rather slowly, and every time you rocked your hips made you hiss with discomfort along with the sparks of pleasure burning through your gut.  Even when it hurt, you wanted more; if nothing else, the noises of his restrained ecstasy spurred you on.

Leaning down, you laid yourself on his chest so that you could hear him better, and him you.  His arms wrapped around you and you felt small; normally, feeling small meant feeling weak, vulnerable, scared… but in his arms, it was wonderful.  You felt vulnerable, yes, but protected.

Your name tumbled from his lips like a whispered chant as you moved on top of him, and you whispered his name back.  The way his cock rubbed against your insides felt so good that you couldn’t even remember that it hurt before, but then again, you couldn’t remember anything from before right now and you didn’t want to.

Your moans got louder and louder, though they were still relatively quiet, but either way they were like music to his ears, sweet and soft and all for him-- just like you.

“S-stop,” he groaned, “you have to stop.”

“Why?” you gasped, feeling a little guilty for not instantly obeying, and yet too lost in pleasure to stop moving your hips.

“If you don’t stop, I’ll come,” he explained breathlessly, “and you could get pregnant.”

You bit your lip, feeling your face warm with an emotion you were sure you hadn’t experienced before.  “What if that’s what I want?” 

“Fuck,” he sighed.

“What if I want you to come inside me?  What if I want to have your baby?” you continued.

You managed to suppress your yelp as he grabbed you and flipped you both over until you were on your back and he was hovering over you.

“Is that what you want?” he asked with a low growl. 

“Yes,” you gasped, “Curtis, it’s all I ever wanted.”

“Fuck,” he moaned, pulling back and thrusting into you again.  He lifted your legs to rest on his shoulders, nearly folding you in half as he fucked into you so deep that you could scream.  You didn’t, but you wanted to.  “Gonna fill you up so good… you’re gonna be so full,” he promised, “you’re gonna be mine.”

“I already am,” you promised, “I always was.”

He leaned down to dominate your lips with a searing kiss, fucking you deep and slow but with an increasing ferocity.  Each thrust was harder than the last until the most prominent sound was the slapping of skin, your arousal so prominent that it was beginning to leak and drip down your thighs and ass.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he growled, right against your ear.

“You,” you moaned, “I belong to you, Curtis.”

“Fuck yeah you do.”

You gripped his arms tight as you felt your walls spasming with your orgasm-- it was unlike anything you’d felt before, even though you’d touched yourself plenty of times up until now.  Already you knew you were going to be addicted to this feeling.  Poor Curtis; you were going to be begging him to fuck you day and night if this was how good it felt.

The tightening of your body around him, and the way you bit down on your lip to keep from screaming with pleasure… it was all too much for him to hold back any more, and with a stuttered groan he spilled himself into you.  

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into another kiss.  He relaxed on top of you as he reciprocated, both of you basking in the glow of the moment.

“Don’t pull out yet,” you pleaded as the kiss ended, “just hold me a little longer, won’t you?”

“Of course,” he smiled softly, placing one small, delicate kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Did you really want me for so long, like you said?” you pressed, remembering what he’d said and fearing it was just a sweet nothing in the heat of the moment.

“You have no idea how long,” he sighed.  “I dreamed of this; of you being mine.”

“Was it everything you imagined?”

“And more,” he assured with a soft laugh.  “Best hundred rations I ever spent.”

[iwillsearchtheuniverse4u]

See You In My Dreams, Stranger

Sik-k smut | khh smut

Warnings: SMUT! ORAL! (f and m receiving) PUBLIC? (not really tho)

Preview: Meeting a stranger on my night walk down the river turns out to be one of the best nights of my life.

It was one of those restless nights that I’ve been dreading ever since I started attending university. I couldn’t sleep, the thought of not knowing where my life is headed keeping me awake every single night. I couldn’t concentrate, I couldn’t brush my teeth or remember to drink water, I just felt like existence was so utterly useless when all my dreams have been swept under a rug somewhere because I was too afraid to act upon them. I’d been dreaming of becoming a translator but all the odds of the world were against me so I chose some apparently more ‘useful’ business degree that I hated with all that I had in me. Because of my perfectionism I had been attending all of my online classes and excelling at them but I felt empty, I felt like I had been contributing to everything I hated the most in this society. At the same time I was just too afraid to change my major because I felt like I had to do something impressive to the outside world, something that would make people respect me.

Just another night of endless tossing and turning, tears streaming down my face, wondering if life does ever get better than this. I couldn’t take it anymore. I got up, took a few steps towards the light switch in the corner of my one room apartment and pressed it. The cheap yellow light bulb lit up the room. The floor next to my mattress was covered in books I was trying to study from and my notes covered in smudged ink. I had a bad habit of crying while studying, sleeping, listening to music and showering, every activity that demanded me to be alone in my little space that had never really felt like home at all. Not much else was in that room apart from a small refrigerator, a microwave oven, my mattress, a closet and a wooden bookshelf. I also had a tiny bathroom that always smelled a bit moldy if I forgot to spray the air freshener three times a day.

I decided to go for a walk along the river as it became clear I wasn’t getting a second of sleep in that night. I hastily put on my black leggings and a hoodie with my high school’s logo on it. I desperately needed to get away from my own thoughts so I grabbed my phone and my earphones that were tied into little knots as always. I couldn’t afford the wireless ones because my scholarship was kept safe in my bank account where I was saving every last cent just in case I decided to drop out and go move to...run away to a foreign country where my name sounds like a whisper of the distant wind. As I was locking my door I heard one of the neighbors flush their toilets. Most of them were students like me or people living on part-time jobs, I never really met any of them, they were just familiar faces I would probably forget in a year after moving out.

The streets were quiet, only the sounds of air conditioners and an occasional motorbike or a car passing by me. I checked my phone to see the time, the picture of my favourite singer’s face lighting up my screen: 3.30am. Of course other parts of the city were probably very much alive at this time of the night but my area was populated only by grocery stores, cafes and libraries, not a single club in sight. The only lights I could see where streetlights and some LED signs. I headed towards the river trying to untie my headphones. I put them in my ears and decided to lose myself in the beats of one of those hyped-up rap songs. I put the volume up just so it was a bit uncomfortable and let my ears adjust to the blasting music.

I finally reached the riverside and started walking along the flow of the water. I couldn’t hear it but it still resonated with my mind better than the rustling sound of the city. There was a road along the river that ended somewhere within the green forest because the are was populated with some important bird species that I could never remember the name of. I sat on the bench at the beginning of that forest, my mind still dissolved in the loud beats coming out of my earphones. Even though my ears were covered with a thick layer of my long brown hair I was sure the music could be heard by anyone standing within a 1 meter ratio. I didn't mind, it was 4 am, people were either asleep or sloppily making out in a club somewhere far away. Thinking about the things I was missing out on started to become louder than the music and I let my tears fall. I was overworked, overwhelmed and empty, I couldn't keep it in. Not that I ever tried. I had never been good at hiding my emotions.

Looking at the night view of the city on the other side reflecting on the surface of the river, getting lost in my thoughts, I felt the bench move ever so slightly under my body. I looked to the side and almost fainted at the sight of a dark shadow sitting beside me. My heart started beating and I stood up to leave in case it was a stranger trying to talk to me in the middle of the night. As I took my first step away from the bench the person lightly touched the fabric of my sleeve. I looked back at him. I was certain it was a man judging by his broad shoulders and a black cap on his head. I removed my headphones, my heart still beating as if I had been running for the last 3 hours. "Excuse me. I wasn't trying to bother you or anything. I just like to look at the city at night when my head gets all crowded and I can't think straight. Don't go just because of me." His voice was deep and raspy but had an elegant tone to it, it felt  calm but distant as if he had been lost in thought. He was looking at me and the lights of the city were playfully jumping around in his eyes but his expression was the complete opposite. He seemed broken. I couldn’t let myself leave him, partly because he seemed significantly depressed and partly because he was astonishingly beautiful. My feet were unable to move, I stood there for a moment contemplating my options but my gut feeling sat me down next to him.

As we were sitting, each on one side of the bench, looking at the sparkly surface of the river my heart calmed down and minutes passed, none of us speaking, just the sound of the river mixed with my music flowing through the night air. "You were crying." He stated with a regretful tone, almost whispering. My cheeks flushed with warmth, I looked at his profile, him still staring at the waves. "I just thought I was alo-" "Don't. Feelings aren't something to be ashamed of. They're just as much a part of you as your legs and arms are. If people feel burdened it's usually their problem because they've never been faced by their own emotions. They just don't know how to act and feel uncomfortable." He talked slowly and didn't bother looking at me. It felt like his words were directed at the universe or at himself just at the general direction he was speaking, he looked so lost. I didn't notice I was staring until he looked at my eyes and smiled. It was one of those crooked smiles, filled with a certain type of worry I couldn't identify. "You can tell me why you were crying. I probably won't remember tomorrow anyway. I can lend you my ears for tonight, maybe I'll forget all about my own problems." His gaze moved back to the view as he sat back and crossed his arms on his chest. At that moment I felt like telling him every little thing about my life. It had been so long since I had anyone who would just listen without the constant urge to solve my problems but just LISTEN. I stopped myself. "I won't let you get off the hook that easy. I have a feeling that you're the one not facing your own problems. Why don't you lean on someone for a change?" I said, determined to make him speak. He looked at me from the side and his head slowly followed his gaze, his eyebrows furrowing just so much I could notice. The anticipation of hearing his raspy voice that felt so familiar and kind made me turn off my music. This man that sat next to me just a moment ago suddenly awakened my curiosity. It took a while for him to speak as we were maintaining a really intense eye contact for what felt as hours. I was able to inspect every milimeter of his dark cat-like eyes. "You're good at reading people, I'll give you that." He smiled and turned back to face the view. "I'm just under a lot of pressure. People expect a lot from me, that's all...and sometimes it can get really frustrating when I can't really reach those expectations. Sometimes it feels like there are so many people doing my thing better than me, it scares me." He put his hands in the pockets of his black sweater still staring at something in the distance. I wasn't sure what to say but he also didn't expect me to say anything. He needed someone to listen and I was there to supply. I asked: "And what would your 'thing' be exactly?" in an effort to get to know more about this mysterious creature in front of me. "Music. I make music for a living." His eyes now focused on his shoes while he bit his lips in an effort not to smile. I finally realized why his voice sounded so familiar, it was freaking Kwon Minsik, Sik-k, Korea's best rapper, sitting next to me staring at the Han river. My hand automatically covered my mouth as I inhaled. I was trying to calm myself down. He probably heard my playlist which was full of his songs and it made me feel so embarrassed, my cheeks flushing with heat again. He tried really hard to hide his cocky smile as he turned his face away from me, looking into the woods on the other side. After a few minutes he asked: "So now are you going to tell me why you were crying?" He was facing me, looking at my eyes attentively like a little boy waiting for instructions from his teacher. I was still to shy to maintain eye contact so I looked at my hands on my lap. I told him my story about how lost and useless I felt in life. I told him about feeling lonely and scared about my future. I told him everything.

Before I knew it tears started to emerge from my eyes again and I tried really hard not to look at Minsik who was still facing me, one of his arms resting on the back of the bench. I cracked. I cracked in front of a man I respected the most. It was embarrassing but also liberating, I was done trying to impress the world. I dropped my head, defeated. Next thing I felt was his warm hand on my cheek, gently wiping the trail of my tears. I froze for a bit, my eyes widening at the sudden proximity of his body. I didn't even notice him getting closer before he put his hand on my face. He was sitting right next to me, the sides of our thighs touching ever so slightly. I could hear my heart rate getting faster and louder. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t control it. I looked at him and he removed his hand, still looking at me with his furrowed eyebrows, a concerned expression drawing on his face. "I'm sorry. You probably think I'm just being childish, crying at something as trivial as my major." I said with a shaky voice. "Don't ever say sorry for your feelings ever again, you hear me? And besides, I don't think it's stupid, I think it's just very important to you. You want to set goals for yourself but you're too afraid that you're not going to reach them so you just let them go. I would obviously tell you to go for what feels right and figure it out but that won't make you feel secure and I bet a lot of other people in your life told you this before." He replied with his deep raspy voice that I loved so much. He was so close. I could feel every breath on the surface of my cheek, his left arm was lying behind me on the back of the bench, it was almost like a hug. I couldn’t think straight anymore, my thoughts were intertwined with the smell of his cologne and the heat of his body so close to mine. He didn't feel like a stranger, he felt like someone who'd known me for years. I buried my face into my hands so I wouldn't make any thoughtless mistakes. Suddenly, he moved away from me, I couldn’t feel the proximity of his body anymore, the cold night air embracing my whole being. I peeked up from my palms. He was still looking at me with concern in his eyes, saying: "Sorry, I probably got too close for comfort, I'm not used to this kind of emotional thing, you know?" I felt a desperate need for physical touch, maybe it was the cold air, the anxiety or his perfect stature or maybe it was a mix of both but I straightened my back and looked directly into his eyes. It was so unlike me to be this bold but my body automatically moved closer to his.

He didn't move even when my face was only ten centimeters away from his. His expression changed, his forehead relaxing, his eyelids closing halfway when I suddenly felt his hand on my thigh. He grabbed onto it like he was holding on for his dear life and it made me want him more. I stopped, looking down at his lips when he pulled himself closer. His smooth lips crashing into mine made me lean back but he was only getting closer until he pinned me to the wooden bench beneath us. It was a passionate kiss, his hands didn't limit themselves to my thighs but discovered the hot surface of my skin under my hoodie. I felt a certain kind of euphoria, the kind you only get to experience when you do something completely out of character for you but turns out to be the best thing you could have possibly done.

As our kiss was getting more heated and his hands were groping my breasts for a couple of minutes the heat between my legs was getting unbearable. I could feel one of his hands roam down to my thigh and up to my ass where he got the grip to grind against me. Our lips and tounges still inseparable, I played along and grinded my heat against his growing buldge until I heard his raspy growls which sent shivers down my spine. As our tempo aligned we started breathing heavily and his lips left mine but relocated to my neck, definitely leaving more than just the incredibly pleasing pain. There was only a couple of pieces of clothing seperating us but the longing was excruciating. I started tugging on the collar of his black hoodie, trying to stop him as his lips attacked my collarbone. "Stop...I can'...I can't take it." I said with a soft voice in between my moans. His hips stopped moving immediately and he pushed himself above me so we were looking face to face, his body still on top of me. The loss of friction left me feeling needy. "Are you okay? I didn't mean to be this fast, I just thought-" I got up and laid a small kiss on his lips mid-sentence. "Come to my place." I whispered in his ear. I hadn't gotten to know this part of me before but that night felt different. Maybe it was the stream of emotions I had just shared with this stranger on top of me or the tone of his voice or the feeling of the cold night breeze but I didn't want to spend this morning alone.

When we finally arrived at my door he was standing so close to me I almost held my breath trying to get myself to collect my thoughts. I swear I could hear his heartbeat like it was my own, his lips suddenly tracing the curve of my neck as I was trying to insert the right passcode. I couldn’t even focus in my own hands as his were holding me around the waist so it took me a few moments to find the right digits. When the holy sound of the door lock unlocking echoed in the hallway he already pressed the knob in a hurry and pushed me inside. Because my one room apartment was so small it only took our intertwined bodies a solid 30 seconds to hit the mattress. He was planting sloppy kisses down my collar bone as I was tugging at his hoodie, trying to set him free of it. He stopped for a moment only to get up and remove it. The moonlight from outside my small window caressing his elegant body, lighting him up from the back like he was some beastly creature of the night taking advantage of my sadness. I couldn’t move, he was sitting on top of me, his face was covered in darkness but I knew he was watching me. "Do you have any idea how freaking beautiful you look in this light?" His raspy whisper made me quiver. I smiled and looked away while my body was hungry for his touch. I wasn't ready to show it.

He slowly got up with his hands trailing the shape of my thighs until he was holding me behind the knees, still looking at me. I felt his hands pull my leggings of as if it was the easiest thing in the whole entire world. He then proceeded to playfully pull at my panties, rubbed my knot and lowered his face to blow at my growing heat, my legs almost immediately trying to close at the sudden pleasure. He held them open while licking my folds twice, trying to see my reaction. I couldn’t hold in my moans and my spine curved in-synch with my breathing. It was something I haven't felt in forever, not like this, not this strong. I grabbed onto his hair and he seemed to read the ques as he got rid of the piece of fabric. His tounge was doing circles around my clit making me see fireworks and probably tugging at his hair with both hands so much that his scalp was in pain. He got me shaking in a matter of minutes and it was the best high I've ever experienced, sending all kinds of shivers down my skin, leaving me panting. He was far from done though.

"You taste so good, baby girl," he said unknowing of the affect it had on me. I got up to unzip his pants (which he more than willingly helped me with). I traced my fingers down his perfect abs to the hem of his boxers and lower, tracing his hard member while inspecting his face. As soon as I grabbed it through the fabric with my whole hand his eyelids shut closed and his head fell back in pleasure. I pulled him to the mattress and got on top of him trying to grind at his boxers, making them soaking wet. Then I got up to remove the rest of his clothing. I proceeded to trace my tounge along his shaft and sucking on his member, enjoying his growls. His hands were grabbing the sheets and the veins on his forearms and neck were starting to protrude. Every now and then a soft "fuck~" escaped his mouth, motivating me to keep going. Then he suddenly stopped me, saying: "I need to come inside of you, grab my wallet." Instead, I got up to open one of my drawers where I was saving a pack of condoms, praying they would fit him. I handed one to him and he was so quick about it, it got me thinking just how many girls he gets to play around with like this every night. The thought escaped my mind when he stood up to hold me around the waist, slowly pulling me back to bed with him. He undressed me, pulling my hoodie over my head only to discover I wasn't wearing a bra underneath. His dark eyes glowed with passion as he greabbed one of my nipples, tugging at it while kissing me sloppily. He threw me on the mattress and got on top of me. My body was heated up completely, I couldn’t even feel the night breeze coming from the opened window. He licked my sensitive nipples a few more times before aligning himself with my entrance and pushing inside of me. The fireworks from before were nothing compared to the utter pleasure I felt at that exact moment, Sik-k filling me up perfectly. My head fell back in moans and my back curved up again. I could have sworn I saw stars playing in the darkness of my eyelids. All I heard him say was: "Fuck..." He took his time waiting for me to adjust and started to quicken his pace while adjusting the angle. One of his hands was stroking my stomach and the other was holding onto my ass. I tried to mimic his movements, increasing the fraction of our bodies. The moans escaping our mouths felt so unholy they made it even more passionate. "I'm going to- I'm close!" I squealed throught the moans which made him go even harder and faster. My whole body tensed up and I grabbed onto the bedsheets pulling them off. His dick was starting to twitch inside of me, hitting all the right spots and I knew he was trying his best to make me come first which was a rare experience. I opened my eyes seeing him focused on me with his furrowed eyebrows, sweat dripping down the side of his jawline. My body was caught up in a wave of shivers, the walls of my pussy tightening so much it got him shaking as well. We were both just trying to ride out our highs with the last strenght we had. It was sweaty and suffocating but liberating at the same time, all of our thoughts disappearing for these unthinkable moments of pleasure. His hot body collapsed on top of me, both of us trying to catch our breaths again. "This was amazing." I told him in between breaths. He rolled over me to remove the condom and, to my surprise, came right back to lie beside me, his arms hugging me from behind. He kissed my neck and whispered in my ear: "See you in my dreams, stranger."

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Star-Crossed: Bound by Blood

Chapter One

Master List

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x OFC Baast’Mal

Warnings: I'm making this up as a go, Canon divergent from the series during chapter 13, mild violence

A/N: I make this stuff up as I go along, if I screw something Star Wars-y up, apologies in advance, I didn't do it on purpose, but I'm new to this Fandom. I will be cross posting this story between AO3 and Tumblr except the smutty bits. Those chapters will only be available to registered users on AO3. (I'm trying something new for people who want to read here on Tumblr, but to also avoid the smut for minors controversy. We'll see how it goes.)

*I do not have a tag list* Please follow the story on AO3 if you want email updates, or follow @tilltheendwilliwrite-library where I post the new/latest chapters of all my stories.

***

In the sweltering heat of the jungle, Din Djarin crouched to better scan for tracks in the rotting foliage at the base of the tall trees. Pools of light made it difficult to adjust correctly for the shadowy depths; add in the thermal activity of the plants and animals in this stinking sewer of a planet, and he was having a hard time tracking his quarry. 

When he'd accepted the puck, he hadn't known what he was getting into as her chain code was surprisingly sparse. The only additional information he had was her name - Taa Marel - her last known location and face. 

And what a face. Even on a holo, she was stunning, not that the Mandalorian would let that sway him one way or the other. 

He'd tracked the stolen ship from Bogano, where she'd initially been hiding out to this skug hole of a world that was made to torment men in beskar, causing them to swelter in their helmet.

The kid, however, loved the place. 

Constantly cooing, riding in his pouch, he touched everything he could get his chubby green fingers on. Leaves, flowers, bugs; those, of course, went straight in his mouth. By this point, Mando accepted the womp rat could and would eat just about anything.

Upon arrival, they'd found the ship nose down, destroyed, and abandoned, but the crash landing had created just enough space for Mando to set the Razor Crest down. Then the hunt began.

After three hours of slogging through the heat, he was ready to kill her. After four, he decided death was too good for someone who made him sweat this hard. After five, he was determined to make her suffer. But they were closing in. He could feel it like an ache in his bones.

Tracks led forward, but something didn't sit right with that. They were too obvious. After hours of following such a well-covered trail, this was an insult to his skills. Footprints led straight down a game trail like a beacon meant to lure him astray.

It wasn't right, too easy by far, and the skin on his nape crawled.

He looked up, straight into the eyes of the woman he was hunting. Even through the distorted colour of heat vision, he could see they were a vibrant green.

He moved on instinct, whipcord shooting out, wrapping around her shoulders, and dragging her out of the tree.

She screamed the battle cry of a hunting cat, an inhuman sound before she twisted mid-air and landed lightly, crouched but on her feet. 

"Taa Marel, I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold," he warned her, hand hovering over his blaster.

"That is not my name. And I choose option three."

Her voice kicked him in the groin and made his dick twitch. Stunned, he could only watch as her hands came up and nails like talons shredded his whipcord. 

Someone had left a few things out of her chain code.

"Put the child down."

Mando blinked. "Why would I do that?" 

What did she want with his foundling? Had she heard about him? Would she attempt to take him? 

"I intend to kick your ass, Mandalorian, but I do not hurt children. Put him down."

Surprised, Mando reached for the strap across his chest instead of his blaster. "You're not going to run?"

She lifted a proud chin. "You will continue to hunt me. I would rather die than return to that hell hole, but I will not go easy. I will fight."

She was beginning to impress him with more than just her face. 

Din lifted the strap over his head, his eyes fixed on the target, studying her outside of the holo he'd memorized. 

She stood with her chin raised, body slightly turned in a stance that bespoke proper training. If one could call it that, her green tunic had no sleeves, crossed over her breasts, tied just beneath them, and ended a few inches thereafter, baring the wealth of sun-darkened skin over tightly packed muscles. Pants hugged slim hips, billowed at her thighs, and tied tight to her calves thanks to the soft, short boots that went to her knee. 

Sweat gave her a sheen that made her glow, her vibrant eyes shadowed behind thick, long lashes. Her face was a treasure trove of sculpted brows, sharp nose, and high cheekbones over lips that looked like ripe fruit, begging for teeth. 

A mass of hair, the colour of sand, fell in heavy waves to her hips. It began to darken toward the tips until it was as black as the deepest corner of space.

As he moved the kid, she untied a thin cord from her wrist and slowly began to bind her hair in a low tail.

He'd never met a woman like her, a bounty like her, ever. This one - fugitive or not - had honour in her.

The kid cooed and waved. Her lips twitched into a smile as she winked and waved back.

"Fear not, Mandalorian. Should I kill you today, I will raise your foundling as my own."

Din's blood ran cold. "You won't get the chance."

He hung the child's satchel on a low tree knot and drew the beskar spear from his back in the same motion. Though he'd won the spear from magistrate Morgan Elsbeth on Corvus and helped the Jedi Ahsoka Tano defeat her forces, the Jedi held no answers when it came to the kid. Though, Din wondered if that had more to do with him than the little green monster. She'd told him to seek another Jedi, someone with more training than she, but had given him no direction in which to search.

"He is rather cute," she smirked. "But his kind age so slowly. You will be long dead before he is grown."

Mando paused. "You know of his kind?"

She arched a brow. "You do not?"

He lowered the spear and held up his off-hand. "I am tasked with returning him to his people."

Her posture never changed, but her eyes filled with sorrow. "He has no more people. The last of his kind, or what was thought to be the last, died some years ago. Master Yoda was his name."

"I'm to help him find the Jedi," Mando murmured.

Her eyes lost their sadness. "I cannot help you."

"Will not."

"They are one and the same," she whispered. 

Lightning fast, she rushed him. Mando barely blocked the first swipe of her claws before the second clanged off his pauldron. He used the spear's shaft to knock her back, even as she kicked him in the ribs, bypassing the beskar.

"Do you know the life you condemn me to, Mandalorian, if you return me to that horrible place?" she asked, crouched once again, a few feet away.

"You're a bounty. I don't make deals," he stated, watching his quarry while keeping his body between her and the kid. His ribs smarted, but he'd had worse.

"No. You just work for the people who Purged your planet!" she spat, leaping and clawing. 

She was fast, damn fast. Barely able to keep up, it was all Mando could do not to lose ground until he saw an opening and swept the butt of the spear at her leg.

She jumped back, breath coming hard.

"I didn't ask who the bounty was for." Greef Karga offered him the chance for a big payday, and right now, they could use it.

"You work for the Empire," she sneered. "Returning me to torture and experimentation. Do you think I was always like this!?" She stood and held out her arms, flexing fingers tipped in dark claws. She bared her teeth, revealing wicked-looking canines, then lifted a portion of hair to reveal a sharply pointed ear.

Again he paused, a thing unheard of, to ask, "What are you?" Her chain code said human, but she was certainly not that.

Her proud chin lifted in defiance. "Do you know what a Zentari is, Mandalorian?"

Din inhaled sharply. "That's not possible. They were wiped out."

"All but one. I am Baast'mal, last of the Zentari. The Empire took me as a child and used my gift to ruin me. They bound my blood to the Corellian Sand Panther and Manka Cat. They have so thoroughly defiled my biorhythms that if the constellations were kind enough to cross my path with that of my mate, I do not know if I could bond with him." Pain flickered across her features. "I am sullied, broken. I am a monster," she whispered before shaking herself free of the melancholia and raising that proud chin once more. "So kill me if you can, Mandalorian, for I will not go willingly."

The beskar spear fell from his fingers as Din dropped to a knee and bowed his head. "I am a Child of the Watch. I must offer aid, Zentari. This is the Way."

"The Way?" She took a step back. "The Mandalorians no longer follow the Old Ways. They no longer conceal their face from all but their riduur and ad. The creed is long dead."

He shook his head. "My Tribe is one of zealots. We hold to the old ways of Mandalore. I only recently learned of this as I was raised with them in hiding. The Purge took much, but the ways of the Zentari are remembered in the covert."

She hesitated, eyes wary. "I have faced Mandalorians before. They knew not the Way."

Din stripped his gloves from his hands and held them out, palms up as if catching water. He raised them above his head and brought them down over his helmet, appearing to another as if he washed with air. "Zentari of the Bright Star, may the constellations bless this warrior with a treasure greater than beskar that they would be mine. Cyar'ika. Ka'rta. Riduur."

She inhaled sharply. He watched her fight tears, lip trembling before she closed the distance between them and knelt. She dipped her fingers into his cupped palms as if they held water, brought them to her brow and stroked them down over her eyes and out along her cheeks. 

Her hands shook as she lifted them toward his helmet and laid her palms lightly on the sides of the beskar. 

His hands gently grasped her wrists, her skin warm and soft beneath his fingers. She wouldn't remove it, that he was sure of, but it was an instinct he couldn't deny when someone touched his helmet.

Her voice was whisper soft when she spoke. "Mandalorian, Holder of the Creed, blessed of the constellations. May you raise warriors strong in the Way and find your riduur. Your cyar'ika. Your ka'rta." 

"This is the Way," he murmured, shaken by the encounter.

"This is the Way," she agreed as she drew him forward until his helmet lightly kissed her brow.

The shudder that raced through her raced through him with equal intensity. The Zentari race was a myth, a legend, a beautiful dream. They were so lost to time Din felt like his heart would burst with joy. 

"Have you ever removed your helmet, Mando?" she asked softly.

The shortened form of address made his heart skip. "Not before any living thing." The Droid on Nevarro didn't count, and no matter what Bo'Katan said, the creed was his way. He would never show his face to any besides his wife or children. 

Let Koska scoff as she liked at his traditions. She had not found a Zentari. She likely wouldn't know what to do with the Zentari if she did.

Din rocked back on his toes and pushed to his feet, surprised when she followed him with equal grace. "Zentari, we should return to my ship. The Alor will want to meet you. The covert will rejoice."

"Baast."

He froze as her hands landed lightly on his beskar covered chest. "What?"

"To you, I am Baast." She stared into his visor as if able to see his eyes. 

"Baast," he murmured, wishing he could speak her name without the modulator.

"Yes, Din Djarin," she smiled. 

He still held her wrists, and his hands became her shackles. "How do you know that name?" he demanded.

Long lashes swept her cheeks, a coy smile curling her lips. "Grogu told me."

His grip tightened more. "Who is Grogu?" 

She tilted her head to look past him at the kid cooing at them. "He is Grogu."

"You can understand him?" Din asked, his shock registering even through the modulator. 

"Not in words, but he speaks to those who can listen. Images. Impressions. The Force is strong in him," she smiled at Grogu. "He loves you."

"He's okay." Mando was grateful for the helmet that hid his foolish grin.

"You fool no one," Baast chuckled. She gently twisted her wrists, reminding him of her bondage. 

He let her go and stepped back to pick up the spear. 

"You are a man blessed of beskar," she murmured. "You must be a great hunter."

"Something like that," he murmured. It still shamed him how he'd acquired his armour, but if he hadn't turned in the kid - Grogu - he wouldn't have been as well-equipped to get him back and keep him safe as they ran from the Empire.

Baast headed for Grogu, her smile growing as she lifted down his carrier and situated the baby against her chest. Grogu giggled and babbled something Mando didn't understand.

"Oh, I see," Baast chuckled, casting a side-eye his direction.

"What?" Mando muttered.

"Clan of the Mudhorn. A clan of two." She flicked her claws over his sigil. "I wondered. Grogu explained."

Mando glared at the kid- Grogu. "Don't tell her all my secrets."

Grogu cooed. Baast cuddled him and smiled slyly. By that look, he was pretty sure it was too late for his secrets.

He turned to go, heading back the way he'd come. It would take hours to return to the Razor Crest, and it was already getting dark. 

***

They didn't make it back to the ship before nightfall, but he found a hollow tree in which to spend the dark hours. Creeper vines had choked the life out of the behemoth, leaving them in a cage of vines and dry, dead bark with a wealth of firewood to choose from. 

The fire burned brightly, drafting well, casting shadows across Baast's face and keeping the larger predators at bay. She slept curled around Grogu, lips gently parted. The air had finally cooled at sundown, but now he could see the shivers and goosebumps developing on her flesh. 

Slowly, he leaned forward to remove the cape from his back. Then, just as quietly, he rose, rounded the fire, and draped it over her and Grogu. She stirred but didn't wake, and Din returned to his watch on the far side of the fire.

A Zentari. He could scarce believe it.

She was a myth made flesh—a beautiful dream. Once, when Mandalore still followed the old ways, Zentarus was where many warriors sought their mates, their most cherished riduur. 

A Zentari was always fast and strong and incredibly rare. They grew quickly but aged slowly, their years stretching out into eternity, some said. Fine in face and form, when they met their match, they bonded, taking on traits of the other and giving a few as well. 

A Mandalorian could live a very long time with a Zentari mate. 

But most Mandalorians came home empty-handed as a bond with a Zentari could not be forced, but those who the stars smiled upon, those most blessed with a cherished mate, bonded in ways that grew legends. It was said their children were the most incredible of warriors.

Baast'mal was everything he imagined when told stories of Zentari as a child new to the Tribe. It didn't hurt that she was the most mesh'la female he'd ever seen. Fast. Strong. Deadly. He wondered at what the Empire had done to her, how they could force the blood bonds on Sand Panthers and Manka cats, and just what other mutations they'd caused.

He also wondered at her Force sensitivity. What she felt or even what she could do had not been discussed, but Mando knew there was more to her than he had yet discovered. 

But it was the ache in him, the growing need to once again touch her skin that concerned him. 

It was primal. Feral. It clawed at him. It had him itching to be closer - much closer - to her. He wanted to show her his face and hope she found him as pleasing as he did her. 

Din had nothing to go by in comparison. He'd seen his reflection before, of course, but he had no way of knowing if a woman would think him handsome. He'd had encounters before, ones in which everyone walked away satisfied, some paid for, others freely offered, but the helmet and the beskar never came off.

With her, he wanted to be bare, stripped off all trappings. Din wanted to feel his naked skin against hers. He wanted to taste it.

"You are a very loud thinker," she mumbled, bright eyes glowing softly beyond the fire. 

Mortification filled him. "I'm sorry, I-"

"I do not know your thoughts, Mando," she clarified, "just feel a gentle buzzing from the beskar. It restricts what I pick up from you."

Relief almost had him sagging. Baast closed her eyes, but he was loath to let the conversation end. 

"How old are you?" She looked young, maybe twenty-five.

Her brow twitched, amusement in her smile. "It is rude to ask."

"I wondered how long the Empire had you," he explained. 

Shadows darkened her eyes. "Forty years."

"But they've only been around for thirty," he frowned.

She gave a hollow laugh and sat up. "They have been around much, much longer. I remember the day they came for us. They slaughtered all who fought, men and women. Every child they could catch was rounded up and taken away." She looked away, down at dark claws. "I was the only Zentari to survive the experiments."

"I'm sorry." He was. "I know what it's like to lose everything."

She tilted her head. "You were a foundling."

It wasn't a question, and Din didn't answer her.

"They began experimenting with my blood almost immediately. I was ten when they bound traits of the Manka to me. I was fifteen when they brought in the Panther."

"How? Why?"

Her eyes burned into his. "Because they could." She flexed her fingers. "Because they are depraved. Because they are monsters, who turn others into abominations."

"You're not."

She looked at him in surprise.

Din shifted until he stood and made his way around to her side, where he offered his hand. Baast took it and joined him in the shadows as he led her a few steps away from Grogu. He stripped his gloves from his hands, the need to touch her no longer under his control.

Slowly, he reached up to caress her cheek. He pushed her hair back, revealing the pointed tip of her ear. Her eyes gleamed from behind heavy lids when he stroked his fingers down her tricep and finally cupped her elbow.

He closed his opposite hand around her nape; his thumb pressed to her spiking pulse. "You are no monster."

"My blood is sullied."

"Perhaps. But you remain unbroken," he murmured. "You lived. You escaped. Mesh'la, you are a beacon of shining hope to my Tribe. If there is one Zentari, perhaps there are others."

She closed her eyes. "There is not."

"How do you know?"

A tear trickled down her cheek. "I felt the last die three years ago. It was what gave me the strength to escape."

"Mishuk gotal'u meshuroke, pako kyore," he murmured, rubbing his thumb on her pulse.

"Pressure makes gems; ease makes decay?" A small smile twitched her lips. "Am I a gem, Mando?"

"No." 

She arched an amused brow.

"You are something more precious than any gem," he murmured.

Colour dusted her cheeks. "A Mandalorian who has a way with words? I truly have seen it all," she teased.

He sighed and made sure it echoed through the modulator. "Get some rest." He attempted to move away, but she grabbed him by the belt.

"Stay."

"Baast?"

"Stay." She took his hand, led him closer to Grogu, encouraged him to sit against a fallen chunk of tree, and then curled up beside him, tucking herself under his arm.

"The beskar is too hard," he worried.

"No harder than a prison cell, and you are much warmer. I have not known the comfort of another since I was seven," she admitted.

He sighed again but gave in, curling his arm around her.

"Thank you for your cape."

"Hm."

Her chuckle was more of a low purr. When it rippled through him, Din swore he felt something inside him purr back.

Next Chapter

[letsperaltiago]

supercut, i’ll be your favorite scene

Here it is: THE KITCHEN COUNTER FIC™️

Hope you guys like this pile of filth and feel free to share your 😌thoughts😌 in the tags or in my indbox/ask! I’d really love to hear them!! For context: takes place during Season 6, Episode 6: The Crime Scene!

Also do I need to make a disclaimer saying that I know Jake would never intentionally neglect Amy yada yada...? You know the drill.

Enjoy!

READ ON AO3 HERE (RATING E)

It had been going on for weeks now and by then it was safe to say that Amy was getting fed up with the situation. Ever since this mysterious, seemingly unsolvable case had started consuming Jake’s every thought, move and decision, Amy had felt somewhat neglected. Her husband was of course still, as always, sweet and caring but lately the case had completely overtaken his life and Jake spent more hours twisting and turning every clue than he spent being paying attention to Amy – or anything that wasn’t case files or clues, for that matter. It’s not that Amy needed attention, like some child screaming for affection, but she was worried for her husband’s health and, even if it felt silly to say, their intimate life.

Sure, they’d kiss good morning, goodbye and hello but especially the past few weeks Jake had more often than not fallen asleep atop of the case files at the dining table rather than in bed with her. Naturally Amy felt many things: impressed by her husband’s dedication and hard work but also worried and frustrated… in more than one way.

One night, another one of those spent alone in bed with Jake sitting at the dimly lit dining table, Amy was done being cool and reasonable; fact was that she missed her husband and she was shamelessly horny. It didn’t take long for her to make a decision: tonight, four drink-Amy, minus the drinks, was going to make an appearance.

“Hey, babe,” she spoke softly with a sweet, curious air, keeping her ulterior motives hidden, as she wandered into the living/dining-room in her pajamas and pink nightrobe. Her steps brought her up behind him and when he finally came within her reach, she made sure to slide her hands onto his shoulders with extra grace and tenderness, softly squeezing them to hopefully give him a taste of the tender touch he surely had a craving for though he currently was too stressed to act on “What are you doing?”

A beat of silence.

“Just working the case,” he mumbled tiredly sounding unaffected by her presence.

It was going to take more work than what she’d originally intended to put into it, but Amy was more than willing to put in the extra work; she did love a good challenge.

“I see that,” she added bending over to wrap her arms around his torso and rest her head on his shoulder as to get a closer look at his work… amongst other things. He was only wearing his flannel and boxers, perfect, she couldn’t help but think.

“You’re working so hard, babe,” she stated sweetly making sure it went straight into his ear. “Don’t you want to relax a bit?”

Her hands stroked his chest smoothly sliding over to play with the top buttons of his flannel, the same flannel he’d worn yesterday, she couldn’t help but notice. Alas this wasn’t the right moment to mention this.

“I can’t,” he flipped over a page to scribble down whatever information crossed his mind. “Not right now.”

“But that’s what you’ve been saying every day for the past few weeks now. Working yourself too hard won’t do you any good, you know… It can affect your way of thinking.”

A peck to his neck was basically Amy begging for his attention, for some kind of reaction to both her words and actions, but it never came.

“I’m fine, Amy. I just need to get this done.”

Scribbling and flipping of pages continued even so, as if she was air, and Amy, more than ever, was now growing awfully frustrated about the situation. Never before, at least while they’d been together, had Jake been blunt and cold towards her like this. Of course, she knew it wasn’t personal, and that it was all tied to the case and the promise he’d made to the victim’s mother, but still she couldn’t help but feel rejected. Rather than letting it get her down, it did the exact opposite and fueled her inner flame.

This problem was only not solved because it was demanding new, more bold, methods.  

“But…” she swiftly as ever popped open a few buttons of his flannel “… don’t you think you would be able to think clearer…” she slid a hand down his now revealed chest before continuing to lure him in with sultry words and notes “…if you just let me help you feel good for a bit.”

Gosh, his skin felt so soft and so good, even after all these years, and oh how she just wanted to bite into it, scratch it red and raw with her fingers till both their hearts exploded.

“Amy, please. I love you but I need to keep working on this.”

Ouch. Her hand froze just above his belly button before removing itself. At least he said something kinda nice, she thought referring to the I love you, but this wasn’t enough. I love you wouldn’t have her writhing and screaming till climax.

First attempt was a lost cause but luckily, in a twisted way, Amy was furious and desperate. Vanishing back to their bedroom without another word, boiling with both lust and frustration, the woman proceeded to plan B; and plan she hadn’t really planned but quickly came up with.  Said plan was hiding in a paper bag in the back of her closet and she’d actually planned on revealing it to him on Valentine’s day but enough was enough: now would have to be the right time.

Said plan started ten minutes later when she waltzed down the hall and back into the dining/living room wearing the same night robe as before. Only this time she was wearing something else underneath: something fiery red and shamelessly lacey.

“If you’re going to stay up all night drilling this…” Smooth, Amy. She planted a few candles on the table before him before lighting them, making sure to bend over just enough for the dip in her robe to reveal what was hiding underneath, “…then lets at least make it nice and cozy for you.”

“Thanks, babe, but no need to. Just go back to bed and I’ll join you there later.”

He didn’t look up, not as much as a quick glance and Amy could feel her blood beginning to simmer in her veins from wanting her husband’s attention and touch so badly. He couldn’t be serious? He couldn’t not notice how she was basically begging for him, could he?

With a firm grip, in one smooth motion, she pulled out the chair besides him and sat down before slowly untying the knot of her robe as her eyes watched him, attentive, hoping see his reaction when he saw the surprise she was presenting him.

Slowly, oh so slowly, she peeled apart the robe and let it slide off of her like ice cream melting on a sunny day. The fabric fell to the floor without a sound and there she sat, half-naked and more inviting than ever before in her life.

Not that she’d tried to be discreet before, but she was now so very obvious about her intention that he couldn’t possibly let it slide. And if she wasn’t obvious enough then the way the red silky fabric enhanced her skin’s warm undertones while the black, soft lace complimented the curves of her breasts and thighs certainly were. All things she’d considered upon picking out the set. The gleam from the candles danced in the reflection of the silky fabric and Amy Santiago was more than impossible to overlook.

“Why don’t you join me in bed… now?” She bit her lip smiling while her fingers played with a lock of her dark hair.

“Babe, I’m really trying to work here. Please.”

He almost sounded annoyed with her as he scrolled through his phone, looking for whatever could be more interesting than her.

Anti-climatic was not the word; this was way worse, Amy was sure of it.

How could he do this to her? There she sat, exposing herself, metaphorically and literally, and all he could think of was work! Maybe she should try to be reasonable, consider how he felt in his situation with this specific case, but enough was enough! She pushed herself out of the chair and stomped off to the kitchen. At first she didn’t know exactly why she headed to the kitchen… Perhaps she just wanted to get away from him but then again, she could’ve just gone to the bedroom. The doubt faded the minute she saw some unpacked groceries, more specific carrots, on the counter. Standing there in the kitchen in her very lingerie at 1 AM feeling like a sad, rejected porn star, she found her Plan C and felt that there was no other way. Amy Santiago did what she had to do: grabbed a bunch of carrots, picked out the tiniest, crummiest knife she could find, a cutting board and started chopping.

Noisily. Over and over again. Repetitive and loud.

“Ames, what are you doing?”

A reaction – good. She looked up, just barely, through her eyelashes only to be met by the sight of her husband still not caring enough to look at her properly.

“Felt like getting a snack, that’s all…”

She kept chopping, faster, harder and most importantly: louder. Carrot after carrot, way too many, but she figured they’d just eat it some other time. For now it was all about pestering him, getting on his nerves as he on hers. Ten seconds went by… Twenty… Thirty…

Chop. Chop. Chop.

“Amy-“

Another loud cut interrupted him. Amy didn’t even bother to cut into proper shapes or sizes. It was all about the sound.

Forty… Fifty…

“Amy, could you please stop!”

Finally.

She smiled to herself at the sound of his snarl, hearing the specific shade of Jake Peralta she’d waited for all night long. Her eyes were still glued to the carrots on the cutting board before her and, she knew, if she looked up, she’d see her husband stare right at her. God, she loved their open kitchen-dining room.

“Why don’t you come over here and make me?” She challenged hoping to make it the tipping point.

Then she looked up and as predicted, her husband was staring at her with a newly arrived squint and dark look in his eyes. It seemed as if his frustration had finally opened his eyes to what was really going on: his wife was in their kitchen almost completely naked, wearing only the skimpiest lingerie, and he’d been stupid enough to look past it. Their eyes met: his angry and storm full, hers playful and hungry, begging.

Right then and there a pin could’ve dropped to the ground and it would’ve made the ground shake and sound like an explosion. The tension was thicker than quicksand and it was only a matter of seconds, an unbearable staring contest, before the sound of Jake pushing back his chair cut through it like a knife.

He slowly walked, as if he was planning his every step, around the counter dividing the dining area and kitchen area, and Amy could feel herself beam with excitement at the muffled sound of his steps.

“What did you just say?” Jake’s voice was low, a few tones deeper than usual, something he only did when he was angry or during sexy timez.  “Think twice before answering me.”

His hands slowly slid onto her almost naked hips feeling the arousing sensation of the lace beneath his fingers. She was trapped between him and the counter before her, on purpose, she could tell and God, she loved him like this. After years of being together it was no secret to either of them that Amy, as much as she enjoyed being dominant and in charge, loved playing the play of the submissive one, the one getting told what to do. Something, if put in the right mindset, her husband handled very well. Key word: handled. Tonight, she needed to be handled. By him… With care? No, they were way beyond stage. Amy was buzzing with impatience. This needed to be properly balanced with the nature of the moment; a tempered Jake who would not put up with being told what to do. Not tonight.

“I didn’t say-“ her breath hitched interrupting herself when she felt him lean his body against her from behind, leaving no room behind him and her, and her and the counter, before letting his right hand slide along the top hem of her panties. “I didn’t say anything. I was just c-cutting-“

His index finger tugged on the elastic hem.

“Cutting carrots,” she breathed out nervousl and he picked up on it.  

“Is this cool? Safe word?” he quickly added.

“It’s perfect and ‘Manhattan’ as usual.”

“Okay good,” he pecked the shell of her ear as a sign of approval before picking up where they left off.

“Hmm,” he hummed removing his finger knowing it’d disappoint her. “I don’t think that’s entirely true.”

“Oh,” she whimpered in reaction to his words being breathed against her sensitive neck. While being distracted by his breathy taunts Amy had completely failed to notice the hand sliding down the right leg of her panty. Here, when down low enough, his index finger had crooked itself around the center section of the garment to pull it to the side and reveal her forlorn womanhood.

Tonight wasn’t going to be a long night of slow fucking, they both knew, but Amy was still surprised when she almost right away felt two fingers part her folds, automatically coaxing her into submission.

“I have barely touched you…” he spoke with a voice so soft and in no way is a match to the sinful activity happening further down her body, “…and you’re already this wet.”

No words, only sounds of strain and pleasure, were to come from Amy. Jake was in charge now and he would make the calls tonight. All she could do was wait and obey.

“You’ve been such an annoying little pest all night and I thought it was just because you were bored, when in reality- “

“Jake,” escaped her in the form of a breathy declaration, in a moment of weakness in reaction to his finger’s Godsent work, interrupting him and this usually wasn’t well received, not in a scene like the one they found themselves caught up in, but Jake was too pleased with the display of his effectiveness to reprimand her. Instead, he just smiled to himself and made sure to stroke the exact same spot over and over again feeling her get weak in her knees.

“When in reality you just, so desperately, need to be fucked.”

To prove his point, he leaned a bit more of his weight onto her forcing her midriff up against the counter. His fingers still had room to work thus moving with more and more ferocity.

“Am I right, Amy?”

Eyes closed, mouth agape and head bent back to rest against his shoulder, it was safe to say that Amy was in another world. Yes, she heard the loud rumbling that was the sound of his voice, but his fingers were louder than anything else happening at that moment. If it wasn’t for the fact that he had her trapped she would’ve been grinding for more, used her body to get a better feel of his touch. Alas she’d have to earn it some other way.

“Amy,” he scolded bringing her attention back to his demands. “Tell me. Am I right?”

His hand not stroking her heat slowly started playing with the upper edges of her panties, pushing them down her curves in the process.

“Y-yes,” came out in a voice so breathy that the word was barely audible, and Jake could only just hear it because he stood as close to her as he did.

“Thought so,” he bluntly approved her answer and removed his fingers from her heat to allow himself to push the panties down entirely, letting them to fall off of her and onto the cold kitchen floor. Amy could feel the bulge in his boxers pressed against her now bare ass and it killed her to not be able to grind against it, to feel it properly.

“So…” he used his now wet fingers, glistening with her juices, making sure to trail them across her skin, to slowly push her hair to the side and leave him room to kiss the back of her neck. “Now that you’ve so selfishly interrupted me and the important work I was doing, just because you just can’t behave and wait to get fucked…”

Amy’s voice hitched, loudly even, in reaction to his words. Dirty talk had definitely moved up a few spots on her favorites list when her and Jake got together; he was so good at it and it made her want to play along.  

“… there are two ways things can go now: either you pull yourself together like a good girl, let me get back to work and wait in bed…”

Amy did not like the sound of that. Nonetheless she bit her tongue and instead of fighting him she focused on the soft feeling of her husband’s breath dancing against her sensitive skin as his hands stroked her stomach, slowly inching themselves upwards towards her breasts.

“… or I give you what you need. Right here, right now.”

There was a moment of silence where Amy considered whether she should actually answer or let him make a choice for her. Did he want her to speak up or was it a trap?

“Tell me, Amy,” he scowled at the exact same moment as his hands reached her chest and latched themselves onto her still lace-clad breasts. “Tell me what you need. I’m not gonna ask again.”

“N-now, p-please” her stutters were weak, but they were there and she could only hope it was enough. They held so much desperation and honesty.

Meanwhile Jake feverously caressed her breasts, pinching her nipples through the thin, lacy material. Then, quickly running out of patience, he basically ripped the straps and cups down as to finally gain full access to this part of her he loved so much.

“Okay,” he pecked the back of her neck. “Can’t believe you’re so desperate that I get to fuck you right here on the counter.”

Jake definitely sounded smug, pleased with the situation, and Amy would’ve been be lying if she’d said she didn’t feel the same way… even though she couldn’t say it. They’d had sexcapades in the kitchen before but never like this and Amy was filled to the brim with excitement.

“God, I wanna see you on your knees with your lips stretched around me so bad but you’re just so ready for me, Ames… It’s too good to put off for much longer. Can you feel how ready I am for you?”

In case she hadn’t already noticed his hard on pressed against her bare ass Jake grinded into her and Amy very quicky came to hate his boxers even more, wishing she could just rip them off of him, and definitely let out a whimper at the needed touch. The full control he had over her was both everything she wanted and everything she dreaded; all she could do was hope that he’d fulfill her wishes for her.

Finally, as if a shooting had crossed the sky and heard her wishes, she felt one of his hands move away from her breast and relocate to push down the cursed material that kept her from being able to feel him properly. An outline trapped behind fabric was always promising but nothing could ever beat the feeling of Jake’s freed length.

“So ready…” he mumbled under his breath as he, impressively so, used one hand to fiddle open the clasp of her bra while the other was busy stroking his length. Given their current position there were things he had to take care of himself – many things, apparently. With both of his hands being busy paying attention to something that wasn’t her, Amy honestly wasn’t too pleased with the situation even though she knew it would pay off; she could already imagine, almost feel, the cool surface of their marbled countertop pressed against her torso causing goosebumps to rise across her entire body.

Thud. Finally, the strain around her chest disappeared as her bra joined the rest of their (limited) garments on the kitchen floor, soon to be forgotten by both Jake and Amy. Jake did still have his flannel on, barely hanging on by one closed button, but the parts of them that mattered were free and ready for tonight’s purpose.

She felt him take a tiny step back, away from her, and she was just about to let out a whine when suddenly her entire body quaked in response to his right hand giving her ass a firm squeeze before allowing it to run all the way up her spine, slowly and with great intentions in mind.

“Bend over.”

If only Amy could tell herself from ten years ago that she would end up marrying a man whose words could make her body and world tremble… The perfect two words, said so bluntly, demanding, had her convinced the second they fell from his lips.

She obeyed, with his hand on her back guiding her forwards, and soon she found herself looking out at their living/dining room from her new position: bent over their kitchen counter.

Jake’s hand continued its journey up her back, all the way up to her shoulder where he gave it a tiny affectionate squeeze before leaning down and pecking the back of her neck.

“Okay, babe?”

“Y-yes, perfect,” she whimpered, impatient, struggling to retain her recklessness.

“You look so good.”

The unequivocal sound of his palm patting her full ass cheek echoed in the kitchen. Even when trying to convey the need to ask for more into grabbing onto the counter, to a point where her knuckles turned white, holding back a whimper was out of her hands.

“Soon, babe. I just can’t get over how fucking good you look bent over like this...”

Another pat, a strike more appropriately so, to her other ass cheek let Amy know that he was definitely testing her patience and willingness to stay silent. He loved the frustration he knew she was battling with inside; mainly because he knew she’d never break because Amy Santiago’s desire to please and obey was stronger than the feeling of despair and need.

“… Bent over and desperate for me to touch you.”

Jake’s low, rumbling voice, the way an almost animalistic side of him shone through his words, was enough to keep Amy going. Although she did quickly take a preference upon feeling a sudden overwhelming burst of warmth and stimulus shoot through her when his fingers switched their attention from her ass to her folds, slowly running two fingers back and forth through them as to assemble as much moisture as possible.

Pleased with himself at the sound of a high-pitched and dragged out Oh there was no stopping him. Slowly torturing them both, mostly her, he kept working her open with his fingers as small moans and squeals dropped from her lips. His other hand kept a firm hold of her hip. Amy was off in another world, trembling at the feeling of his fingers finally doing to her what she’d been craving for for so long now. Her hands slowly turned sore from holding on so tightly to the counter under her, but she didn’t care. Everything felt so good and she’d die if it were to stop if she disobeyed or accidentally disregarded Jake’s wishes and plans.

All of the sudden, ready to whine at the loss of his fingers but quickly interrupted, Amy felt a strong hold of her hips from both of his hands and then, even better, herself being stretched around her husband’s cock. To hell with the consequences, Amy let out the loudest “quiet” moan she dared. The sensation washing over her was too much, too good, to keep quiet about however it helped that she expressed herself cheek pressed down into the cool kitchen counter.

“Yes,” Jake hissed pushing himself all the way in. “Fuck, you’re the best thing, babe.”

She felt a hand, once again, run up the length of her back as he shuffled on the spot to adjust himself inside of her. The stretch ceased for a brief second but immediately came back, this time for good, repeating itself in a steady pattern that had the entire front of Amy’s body, from her knees hitting the lower kitchen cupboards to the face rubbing up against the cool marble, following the given rhythm. The sound of their bodies slapping together, Amy’s skin drumming against their counter to the beat of his repetitive thrusting as well, came together like an obscene symphony. Only one thing was missing, and he knew why: she was waiting for permission like the good girl she was.

Bending over her so far that his chest ran parallel with her back, almost skin against skin, Jake made a makeshift ponytail with his wife’s soft, dark hair and, keeping in mind to stay careful, forced Amy’s head off the counter and back. Amy hissed, the pain and pleasure coming together, and she was finally in the perfect position for him to whisper into her ear.

“I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.”

The observation, rather the implicit demand, went straight to her already extensive drive and with her head held up by his hand in her hair, Amy allowed her sounds of pleasure to fall freely from her lips and accompany the repetitive sound their body’s coming together, over and over, skin to skin, skin to wood, skin to stone.

“Oh- oh- ohmygod yes,” came tumbling out of her like the world was collapsing inside of her and having straightened back up, still with a hold of Amy’s hair, Jake could only admire the scene before him as he felt the stressful case and immense pressure melting away. After this he would definitely have to apologize for being so absent lately but for now, they probably needed this more than anything else.

“Y-yes, baby. Feel so good around me.”

Every word, every sound, every move was punctuated by a thrust, one after the othert, speed and force slowly increasing as a momentum built and both parties fell into and drowned in an endless pool of longing and passion.

“Was this what you wanted when you decided you were going to act like a fucking brat?”

A tug on the makeshift ponytail demanded that Amy listen even though she knew he might not necessarily want an answer from her - at least not a vocal one.

“Was is worth it? Tell me.”

Another tug on her hair, definitely demanding an answer, and his fingers digging into her fleshy hips earned him a small cry of submission that almost had him coming right there on the spot. Alas he stayed focused and steady. He wasn’t ready to let go yet, and neither was she. Just the way he wanted it and the way she loved it.

“Y-yes,” she just barely managed to stutter between thrusts, too far gone to make out a longer sentence, even though she was dying to tell him just how good he made her feel and how she’d missed him inside of her.

“Can’t believe all it takes to shut you up is a good fuck,” he accused her, but she could tell he was not so secretly loving it, simply saying it, making it sound filthy, because he had needed it just as badly as her. “So desperate you’ll take it anywhere…”

He trailed off, out of breath from snapping his hips back and forth into her with hefty momentum that had both his and her legs shaking. Although, he knew, he wasn’t quite done with her yet. There might’ve been beads of sweat running down her arched back, red marks on her arms from the rubbing of the counter and beginning knots where he held onto her hair, but it couldn’t be over yet.

Using the last surge of energy, he had left in him, Jake decided to let go of his wife’s hair and used the now freed hand to give her ass one last spank, one whose loud snap and following whine bounced off the kitchen walls. Besides that, nothing was said and Jake was pleased.

“No complaining, huh? You just know that you always look so much better when I mark you up.”

It was hard to tell since her entire body jerked every time he reentered her however Jake was sure: she nodded. He stroked the fresh redness of her ass before hunching over her still very much bent over figure. The new curve of his body to ran along hers, his chest to his back, and gave him the opportunity to take a hold of her hands where they were still clinging onto the kitchen counter’s edge for dear life. Now he could help his thrusts by pulling into her.

“I’m so close, Ames. So fucking close.”

He readjusted as to be able to whisper directly into her ear.

“You look so good bent over like this… All for me…”

“O-only for you,” she managed to stutter.

“But I want to be able to see your face when you cum.. So hard like never before,” he marked his point by gathering some extra force to thrust just a bit deeper and the small scream it derived was worth it. Although he had already (kind of) warned her Amy felt like dying the second he so brutally pulled out of her completely. It was all soon forgotten though; the second he pulled her back up straight, spun her around and lifted her, almost entirely by himself, up to sit on the counter. Before Amy could fully comprehend what was happening, he had her face cupped in his hand and their eyes locked.

Amy could’ve sworn what he did and said next was the sexiest thing he’d ever done to her: without letting go of her face, neither her eyes, he used his free hand to push her thighs apart and around him.

“Now don’t you dare look away.”

Without further explanation he grabbed his cock and guided it back into her, once more appeasing her with the feeling of being filled to the brim by him. It was far from as easy or smooth as their previous position, but they fell back into a enjoyable pattern of movements. Before they knew it Amy was back to whimpering at every thrust, her magic spot struck over and over again. She was shrieking her pleas as he kept their eyes locked and there was no escaping it. The hand holding her face snuck a thumb across her dry lips, furthermore, causing them to part and welcome his finger past the edge and into the mouth he was dying to kiss.  

“Do you have any idea how fucking hot you look like this?” he praised enjoying the wet sensation around his thumb and the muffled effect on her whimpers it had before removing his hand, to her disappointment, only to then please when he put it to better use down between her legs. “And you’re going to look even hotter when you fall apart around me, understood?”

“Y-yes,” she croaked with eyes slowly beginning to flutter closed. “I- I’m so close, baby.”

“Me too,” he breathed heavily as he saw her eyes shut as his fingers played with her clit, wishing and yearning to take her where they both wanted to be. “Now look at me,” he demanded using his free hand to once again grab her jaw and reposition her face as to be sure she was looking directly into his eyes as he felt himself come closer to his climax.

He picked up the pace, the slaps of their skin becoming louder, and Amy immediately reacted by grinding harder onto both his cock and fingers meanwhile her mouth let every deep, sinful emotion pour out of her as a messy ode to her own climax.

“R-right there, ugh- yes! Faster, harder-“

“I’m gonna cum, babe. Right now,” he exclaimed.

“Y- yes, inside of me. Keep going,” she begged afraid that his climax would interrupt God’s work he was doing on her.

“Ye-“ he was cut off by his own climax which caused his head to shoot back and a groan from the deep of his gut. Although Amy had nothing to fear: even through his climax Jake kept up his pace, mostly with his fingers, and not too long after he had Amy writhing and gasping for on the counter.

“Come for me, babe. All over me.”

He was slowly coming down from his own climax and passionately coaxed his unravelling wife through their shared euphoria, listening and staring into her eyes as she crumbled around him.

After a few moments of aftershock in the shape of shuttering, gasping and whimpering, the room fell silent and time seemed to stand still. By then Amy had slumped forward, completely drained, leaning her head onto his shoulder meanwhile the cool night temperature of the room started to get to her. Small goosebumps danced all over her body.

For a bit they just let it be, let the moment stand on its own, giving Jake the time to run his hands all over his wife’s shaky, beautiful body that he loved oh so much.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so absent lately. I hope you know that it has nothing to do with you.”

Although it was a statement and a fact rather than a question, Jake definitely wanted and needed to know if she knew that it was so.

“I know.”

He could feel and hear her smile because that’s how stupid well he knew her.

“Good. Still want to say I’m sorry though,” he smiled into the top of her head before pecking it and getting a small taste of the sweat they’d both built up. “…And I promise that I won’t let work control me like this again.”

Silence. A beat.

“I really appreciate you saying that. Thank you…”

She turned her head so that she could kiss his lips and, just an hour ago, Amy might’ve thought he was the most annoying, stubborn human on earth and maybe he was… But now she was also once again sure of the fact that no one could or ever would love her like her husband does.

[yandere-mha-blog]

Chapter 38: Control

words:1435

trigger warning: vomit and knifes 

“You know dumdum, if you just listen to me and understand where i am coming from, i wouldn't have to do this.” Katsuki said tying your hands behind your back and attached to a beam

“Well maybe if you warrant acting crazy!” you said as he stuffed a handkerchief in your mouth

“Don't.call.me.that.” He said looking extremely pissed, you just gave him the same look back “The funny thing is you said i wasn't acting like myself, but look at you, you aren't acting like yourself either.”

Oh how you wanted to spit directly into his eye and call him out on everything that just spewed out of his mouth

“Besides, I'm nice enough to keep your legs untied right.” Katsuki said as you spat the handkerchief out of your mouth

“You are delusional, i don't know what makes you think you need to do this.” You said

“IM doing this to protect you how many times do i need to tell you, up here it will be nothing but piece and quite, no more fucking ami or the other one, no more villain's  after you, I'm just trying to protect you.”

“All you are doing is making me scared of you, i mean look at what you are doing, you manhandled me and tossed me in a room, then proceed to tie my arms behind a post, you really think things are just gonna go back to normal-”

Katsuki just put the handkerchief back in your mouth

“Stop talking.” he said “I'm not here to hurt you.”

You spat out the handkerchief again

“Oh is that why you are scaring me half to death and tying me up to a post.”

“I said stop talking.” Katsuki said once again putting the handkerchief in your mouth then slapping a piece of duct tape over, oh (name) how ever will you get yourself out of this one.

“I've had a stressful night. I'm going to bed, I'll see you in the morning.” He said you rolled your eyes, your jaw was hurting you used your tongue to put as much saliva as you could on the sticky part but the handkerchief was getting in your way, evenly after about what seemed like forever you pushed the handkerchief on the loose duct tape and spat it out taking a deep breath, not like screaming would do much Katsuki would just come back and place it back over, still mourning climbing rope was not gentle on the skin, Katsuki tied these knots way to tight you continued to pick and pick at them but nothing, they were not budging, and it was even worse you couldn't even see it. Hopefully Kirishima and Denki would get here sooner than later, you needed your strength and decided to rest for now.

Maybe it was the feeling of dread that overtook you, but you kept remembering your life pre-bloodbath  with your brother, you wondered where he was no, still in jail, or was he out and if he was what would he be up to at this point. Also what would you be like if it never happened, still on that farm with a horrible dad and a mother who turned a blind eye to it all. You must have taken more after her then you thought, turning blind eye to all the shady stuff Katsuki was doing, I guess love does make a person a fool. If you were joey you could have easily broken out of here snapping the beam with you.

Katsuki was outside on the porch, things weren't supposed to go this way, everything was becoming way out of hand, Now those two were coming and he would have to deal with them, not like he could just kill them, that was out of the question, he knew them since highschool and just how powerful those two could be. Still there was a reason why Katsuki was the number one hero and they were not in the top 10. Those two would be easy to deal with, the real challenge was you, i mean he had lied to you, but he came clean afterwards, you were to trusting of the world i mean look at how easily you trusted him, you got hurt time and time again, anything and everything could hurt you, so him being a hero decided to keep you safe, why couldn't you understand that.

Katsuki walked back in and was impressed you managed to get the duct tape off, you were cationic as you just stared at the floor not even acknowledging  him come into the room, maybe you had finally calm down, he went over and nudged your shoulder, nothing

“Hey..(name) you good, (name) look at me-” he said right before you lunged out and bite into his shoulder hard

“GOD DAMMIT WHY IS ALWAYS BITING!” Katsuki yelled, grabbing the sides of your face and managing you to unlock your jaw from his shoulder, that was way too close to his neck to confront “What are you expecting to get out of this!”

You just laughed in response, cackling

“Stop that!” he said closing your mouth “Stop laughing!”’

Just the sheer absurdity of it all, never had a boyfriend or a friend before and the first friend and boyfriend you ever had is now keeping you tied up to a post in a cabin, what else could you do but laugh at what a tragic joke your life was, could no one around you just have a normal reaction to you, either everyone hated your guts or lost their mind, over and over again, at this point all you could do is laugh as Katsuki let go.

“FINE LAUGH ALL YOU WANT!” Katsuki yelled as you kept howling to yourself with laughter till your stomach started hurting but even there you couldn't stop laughing, and laughing till you were toppling over with pain, then lunch came back up and you threw up right in front of you.

“Ew…”

“What was that-what the hell.” Katsuki said looking mortified “have you lost your damn mind, who laughed to the point they threw up!?”

“I do apparently.” you said than sticking your tongue out, tasted awful

“Well you are..i just, ugh dammit!” Katsuki said untying you, the back of your throat burned from the stomach acid, lucky the vomit was in front of you and not on you, katsuki picking you up and taking you to the kitchen, and handed you a glass of water, which you happily drank

“Stay put and don't try anything funny.” Katsuki said as you continued to drink your water as he picked up your vomit from the floor, oh the things you do for love. You were not feeling well and opened a cabinet and pulled out a knife, this should work.

“(name) what are you doing?” Katsuki said as you stared down on the knife

“You know something, Katsuki...I just realized I've never been able to control my life, there has always been some outside force that tried to control me, what I did.”

“(name) whatever you are talking about just put the knife down.”

“I mean my bastard of a father made me work since i could walk, My older brother took away all living relatives ,my bullies made it impossible for me to make friend or have anything near a social life, the government made it so I couldn't contact my brother anymore and start a new life like nothing was wrong, then meeting you and thinking that you know what's best for me, will i ever be able to just do what I want, huh Katsuki what do you think.”

“What is it that you want exactly.” Katsuki asked, seeing you hold that knife was making his heart pump out of his chest

“...I don't know because i never got the chance to decide what I wanted to do...so what should I do Katsuki you seem to know best right?”

“How about we put the knife down and just...go to bed.” Katsuki said, you looked at the knife then back at Katsuki.

“You won't tie me up again, right?” you asked

“I won't, just put the knife down.”

“Promise and you aren't lying to me this time.”

“I promise.” He said, you let out a sigh and set the knife down and walked over giving him a hug

“I feel like shit.” you said

“Well you smell like vomit, look we both had a hard day so let just get some rest okay?”

“Okay.” you said just feeling broken down and feeling like nothing mattered anymore.

[remmushound]

Curse of the Clan part 19! @scentedcandlecryptid

Content warning!! Blood, death, trauma,

Leonardo shoved the body off of him, giving a disgusted groan as he tried to rid himself of the staining blood. It was of little use; it stuck to him like an insect on a fly trap and, no matter how much of it he managed to shake off, more was still caked on him.

“Ugh. I’ve heard of rabbit stew, but this is ridiculous…” Leonardo’s joke slowly turned sour when he looked to the one holding the odachi and found not Usagi, nor Genisuki, but the badger cub Nuriyuki.

The young daimyo stood petrified, still holding the sword that was bigger than he was while his eyes remained locked on the corpse he had just created. He had no blood on him, but the odachi was covered in the rabbit samurai’s crimson death. Leonardo swore loudly as he scrambled to his feet. He stopped when Nuriyuki turned to him, fear keeping the odachi clasped in his paws and, by extension, aimed at Leonardo. Leonardo put his hands up, his breathes slow and stuttery, as he reached a hand out to try and reach around the odachi.

“Hey Yuki…” Leonardo said, making his words clear and loud. “Y-you did great, buddy… just give me the sword now…”

“I had to do it…” Nuriyuki squeaked. The sword in his hands began to shake, and Leonardo had to pull back or risk getting his wrist cut.

“I know.” Leonardo gasped out, “I know— I know! You did great! But I really need my odachi back…”

After another tense and slow motion, Leonardo was able to grab his odachi and finally take a breath. He placed the sword back over his shell and then went forward quick to pull Nuriyuki in a hug tight against his chest, putting his hand on the back of the badger’s head to make sure he couldn’t try to look at the body anymore.

“There we go…” Out of impulse to comfort the child he had spent the past two weeks with, Leonardo kissed the badger on the top of his head. He ran his fingers through Nuriyuki’s thick scruff, and then brought his hand to trace circles across the badger's back. “You’re okay. You’re great. Don’t look…”

“Here. I got him.” Genisuki reached down to take the child from Leonardo.

Leonardo hadn’t even noticed the rhino approach! Had he really been that distracted? Or was the rhino that stealthy? Either way, Genisuki had the child now, and that was all that mattered. Leonardo looked around until he could find Usagi; the rabbit ronin was on his knees, his eyes distant as he looked out over the longsword that Kenichi had lost. He was running his fingers across the flat of the blade, too focused to notice that the blue ribbon that had held up his ears was now gone, lost in the battle. It allowed his ears to fall free and flat, almost like locks of silky hair.

Leonardo went over to him. At first, he was hesitant to interact with the rabbit; a dark aura radiated off of him like a toxic sludge and Leonardo didn't want the sludge to infect him too. After a moment of consideration, he started to reach over to tap the rabbit. Before he got a chance to, Usagi’s sudden voice startled him.

“It was my master’s sword.” Usagi said, “He earned it when he was my age by defeating his master in a sparring match for the very first time.” Usagi turned the longsword around in his hand, watching as the metal glistened with the stars that shined that night, making the sky bright and purple.

“Is that how you earned your katana…?” Leonardo asked, sitting beside Usagi, but not too close.

Usagi gave a slight nod. “Yes. It took me fifteen years to earn my twin katana. Yet you have your weapon so young…”

Leonardo smiled weakly. “I used to have katana— those were the weapons my master gave me. But they uh… got broken.”

“How upsetting!” Usagi exclaimed, looking at Leonardo, “How did you earn them at such a young age?”

“My Clan has always used the tulku test.”

Usagi tilted his head. “I am unfamiliar with this…”

“Basically— when we turn two years old, we are placed before an assortment of weapons and whatever weapon we go to is the weapon we’re meant to inherit.”

Usagi hummed. “Impressive. It must be a ninja tradition. And do you just… receive the weapon outright?”

Leonardo shook his head. “We receive the weapon when our master believes us ready.”

“It is up to their discretion…” Usagi nodded his understanding.

“I… Usagi, does your master’s master still live?” It felt wrong to ask such a question given the circumstances, but Leonardo had to!

Usagi shook his head. “My master’s master passed before I was taken as a student.” He seemed to have the same thought as Leonardo going through his head. “That makes me a ronin’s ronin…”

“Do you… know how to perform a ceremonial blessing?” Leonardo’s heart caught in his throat.

Usagi closed his eyes for the longest time, leaning his head back so far that his ears flopped back. Then he stood up, the haunted aura still surrounding him as he held out his hands. Leonardo hurried to present Usagi with the odachi. Usagi took the large sword in shaky hands, showing the odachi the same amount of adoration he had shown to his masters sword, which was now at rest by Usagi’s feet.

“The metalwork is incredible…” Usagi praised, tracing his fingers across the sleek metal, “Odachi are some of the most complicated weapons to make… the longer the blade, the more difficult it is to get one so perfect.” He measured the blade with his thumb, “140 inches with an 83 inch Nagasa. Sori is just over one inch… this is a beautiful weapon. Does your clan have a motto?”

“Yeah it’s uh… you are not alone.” Leonardo offered.

Usagi nodded and lowered his head. He brought his hand once more to trace across the metal. He muttered something under his breath that Leonardo couldn’t quite hear, but it kept his attention nevertheless; especially when Usagi’s hand started to glow a deep, cerulean blue. With each trace he made, his claw cut through the hard metal like it was butter, leaving kanji traced along the flat of the blade.

“You are not alone in this world.” Usagi’s words were finally clear, “You took this journey to receive this blessing, and now I give it to you. For your kanji, I give you thought, I give you dream, and I give you endurance.”

The three kanji were marked on one side of the blade, then Usagi flipped the blade over, and on the other side he marked the clan’s saying: You are Not Alone. Usagi quickly passed the blade over to Leonardo, and the minute his blade was on the hilt, he felt a surge of power going through him.

All at once, Leonardo was filled with the kanji that had been bestowed to him as the sword accepted his ownership of the blessing. His heart pumped hard, his muscles strong and ready to take an insurmountable task, no matter what it was; the endurance was there, and ready to be harnessed. His mind, in contrast to his body, was filled with a giddy cloudiness; a feeling of the euphoric freedom that could only be brought on by the boundless nature of dreams. His head was pulsating with thoughts that shot through him like lightning; the rush of a wind carrying the knowledge of every thought, even fact, every idea that had ever occurred to him all at once.

The power simmered, but didn't go away. It went down enough for Leonardo to take a breath, and to loosen his grip on his sword. Usagi was looking at him hopefully.

“Did it work…?”

Instead of answering verbally, Leonardo replied by running forward and pulling Usagi into a tight hug. Usagi yelped at the sudden embrace, his arms pressed awkwardly against Leonardo’s plastron. When he finally realized what was happening, he laughed and returned the hug, wrapping his arms around Leonardo’s neck. The two of them danced around in each other's arms, hugging one another, until Leonardo finally pulled away.

“It worked.” He said with a breathless laugh. “It worked! Oh— oh! Here!”

Leonardo look of his mask and worked quickly to untie the knot. Usagi stared confused until Leonardo finally got the knot free and then grabbed a hold of the rabbit ronin’s ears, holding them up while he tied the blue ribbon around the rabbit’s ears to replace the ribbon the samurai had lost.

“Wha— are you sure?” Usagi asked, looking to Leonardo with his nose twitching.

Leonardo nodded fervently. “Yes! Yes— yes, I’m sure! T-thank you!” Leonardo then turned to Genisuki and Nuriyuki, “T-thank you! I— I have to— I can’t—“

Leonardo was silenced when Usagi put a hand on his shoulder. “We understand. Now go.”

Leonardo nodded, breathless, and looked back to the rhino and badger. Genisuki nodded and urged Leonardo on with a motion of his hand. Leonardo stepped away from the ground, wiping his nose and eyes free of moisture before reaching into his pocket and taking out the medallion that Bishop had given him. The one that was meant to take him home. Leonardo held it in his palm and it felt remarkably… dead. Powerless. Leonardo gave a curious hum.

Still, he did just as Bishop had told him to do. He gripped the medallion in one hand, his odachi in the other, and imagined going home.

[twokinkybeans]

Popsicle [Starker]

Summary:  Tony sees Peter at a kink club; bound, blindfolded, gagged and whipped and Tony... God, it messes with his head. It sure makes working in the lab with Peter a whole lot more difficult.

Prompt: Written for the following prompt by @Kaydu on AO3/Discord (so all credits for this amazing idea go to her)! Post resurrection Tony runs into Peter at night unintentionally. At a kink club. Blindfolded and gagged and being whipped across the back while mounted on a St Andrews cross and then forced in his knees to suck off the Dom where he is humiliated by slurs and insults and Peter doesn’t know at first that Tony saw him there doing that until after a few weeks of Tony acting particularly odd in the lab working together.

Warnings: Nff, kink, bdsm-themes. Mostly Peter and Tony just really like each other. Peter Parker is depicted as an adult.

Find on AO3 here!

-

Popsicle: Tony knows this is probably not one of his brightest ideas but he really needs to blow off some steam. He’s not here looking for a hook-up; not that he’d decline if someone were to offer it of course. He just needs a change of scenery. And this, well, this is his favorite scenery. When Tony walks into the club an instant smile works its way onto his face. The familiar sounds surround him. The slow, sensual beat of the music playing in the background, but also the moans, the happy chatter, the whips cracking in the distance. It’s home to Tony.

He heads straight for the bar and orders a strawberry daiquiri like he always does. It’s nice, the sweet sting of the fruit mixed with the bitterness of the alcohol. He doesn’t want to start on the club’s fine selection of whiskey right away.

Tony ignores the way the bartender looks at him when he orders. He’s used to the stares by now. People don’t know how to treat him anymore. After almost dying to save the world, they simply are too impressed or scared or weirded out by him. He doesn’t like the godlike devotion some people have decided to give him, doesn’t like how he makes conversations fall silent where he passes. But, he decided a couple of months ago, he won’t allow himself to succumb to the feeling. He’s got his little Avengers family to keep him company. If this is the price he has to pay for saving the world, he’ll happily endure it. He has the idle hope that things might return to their previous way of being, and until then, he’ll try to pretend they are. One of the things he used to do was residing at the bar in this particular club and enjoy the scenes unfold in front of him. So that’s exactly what he’ll do today.

There’s actually quite the number of scenes going on right now - the biggest one happening on the stage in the middle of the room. A familiar-faced Domme, a regular probably, is teaching a shibari workshop. Her sub, a sweet-looking young woman is definitely enjoying both the ropes and the public’s attention. They even let some of the folks in the audience try their way around the knots as well. Then, in the back and the sides of the room, there are some smaller scenes taking place. Wax play, not one of Tony’s favorites, and some bootlicking, also not one of his favorites. No. Tony’s attention is drawn by the scene taking place almost in front of him. A cute, young twink is bound to the St. Andrew’s cross. The sub’s back showing angry lines of where the heavy flogger had kissed the skin. The boy is shivering, moaning, pleading for more through the gag that’s in his mouth. He’s blindfolded, too. The Dom, a tall, muscular blonde grins as he gives into the subs pleas more than happily and lowers the flogger once more. Tony shifts on the barstool to give his already growing erection a little more space while he keeps watching. God, the sub… He looks amazing. Not too tall, strong muscles gliding underneath the smooth skin every time he arches his back. Tony loves the cute, firm little butt too. If he were the one holding the flogger he’d definitely redden the pale cheeks some more. As would he give special attention to those probably very sensitive thighs. With his legs spread in the cross like that, Tony doesn’t even need a lot of imagination to see how pretty his legs would shake. The twink sure reminds him of… No.

Tony’s nostrils flare slightly and he sips at his drink in an attempt to cool himself down just a little. Ever since defeating Thanos a little over a year ago, he hadn’t gotten laid once. With people being squeamish around him he had no chance, and even if people weren’t weirded out by him, they were by the fact that he had a fully operative, natural-looking prosthetic arm. The neurofeedback allowed it to work as a regular arm- so much even Tony tends to forget it’s a fake one. He sighs. He hasn’t even shared a simple kiss with someone since it happened. His body doesn’t like it. It’s starting to protest the lack of touch. Maybe he should find himself someone tonight after all. Get it out of his system. He knows it’s idle hope, but the thought is nice.

Tony finishes his drink and is just about to make his way into the more crowded area, when the Dom in front of him unties his sub. The boy turns around, and-

Tony blinks. Once. Twice. A third time. He can feel the blood drain from his face and somehow simultaneously rush south. There, right there, is no one other than Peter fucking Parker. His friend. His colleague. His mentee. Tony has to bite back a moan because everything about Peter makes him want to claim him for himself. His disheveled hair, his rapidly rising and falling chest, his hard cock… not too big but standing up hard and proud between his legs. He’s still blindfolded though. And a ring gag is causing him to drool all over his chest. He looks so fucking filthy. Tony has no clue how to deal with this. How to deal with… Goddammit. He thought he was over his attraction to Peter. The 21-year old and he hadn’t been able to meet much lately and it’d done wonders to Tony’s unhealthy crush.

Guess he fooled himself.

He’s frozen in place. He would never interrupt a scene. Never. No matter how much he wants to do it right now, he is not going to break the rule he set for himself all these years ago. Plus, it’s club policy. Peter obviously consented to this scene and Tony interrupting would only cause embarrassment for all parties involved and could throw the boy into the deep end of a sub drop. No. All he can do is watch. Watch and pray Peter never finds out.

---

Making sure Peter never finds out didn’t seem too difficult of a task. Tony is soon proven otherwise though. Working with the kid has never been as challenging. Every time Tony lays his eyes on him he remembers Peter’s mouth working around the other Dom’s shaft. Eagerly sucking and worshipping it without fail. The image is branded into Tony’s mind. He can’t unsee it, no matter how hard he tries.

Today, Tony is certain the universe is taking its revenge on him somehow. Making him pay for all the bad things he’s done in his past, probably. Peter is naked. Naked. Right there. Right in front of him. Sucking on a fucking popsicle almost the same way he sucked on the man’s cock that day. He’s chatting happily, making innocent jokes and laughing as Tony works his way through the suit to find the one error that Peter can’t seem to fix by himself. Friday hasn’t detected anything wrong so the glitch is probably a crack somewhere in the nano sections. He’s trying to find it, really, but Tony has never had this little focus before in his entire life. He stares at the suit. At his own fingers checking and rechecking every fiber of the supple yet strong material to find the crack. So far, no luck. He forces himself to not look at Peter. To try to ignore him. To-

“Mr. Stark?” Tony looks up instantly and mentally curses himself for his lack of self-restraint. “Mmh?” Peter sucks on the popsicle, licking off the drops threatening to fall off, before he speaks again. “Am I… Annoying you? Should I go and wait somewhere else until you’re done? I don’t want to disturb you and-” “No. Stay.”

The words are out of Tony’s mouth before he realizes his mistake. He stays silent. Doesn’t even try to cover up because he knows it’s no use. Instead, he lowers the fabric of the suit and rests his hands on the surface- waiting for Peter to speak. It takes a while. “Mr. Stark…” Peter starts and puts the popsicle down onto the plate he used not more than an hour ago for his daily 5-layer sandwich lunch. “I… I should’ve told you. I’m so sorry.” “What?” Tony asks, thoroughly confused. Out of everything Peter could’ve said, this is not what he expected. Peter fiddles with his hands and drops his gaze to the floor. “I know you saw me.”

Tony’s brains sure as fuck short circuit right there and then. What? Peter continues before he has a chance to speak. “My Spider-senses. They recognize people that I’m close to. I… I knew you were watching me, eh, the entire time.” “Peter-” “I liked it. I liked that you were there. Made me try extra hard.” Peter licks his lips and stands up from his chair then, slowly striding towards Tony who is increasingly intimidated by the boldness of the boy. “I could sense how hard you were.” Another step closer. “How your breathing increased over time.” Closer. “How you rushed off after I made the Dom come in my mouth.” Peter hops onto the research table and his legs dangle playfully in the air. Tony can’t help but notice the slowly growing cock between the boy’s legs and he gulps.

“Peter,” he repeats, his mind startled and scattered and entranced by the plain sexiness in front of him. “Don’t you want to do the same to me, Sir?” Tony growls. Actually growls. Low, the sound reverberating deep in his throat. He bridges the gap between them and raises Peter’s chin in a rough but careful motion. “Are you a hundred percent certain you want to do this with me?” “Please,” Peter begs and Tony’s gone. His right hand finds its way into Peter’s messy hair instantly. Grabbing a good handful of those chestnut curls. The other hand wraps around Peter’s waist to drag him closer. Peter lets out a high-pitched moan, bucking his hips up. The moan is muffled when their lips crash together in one swift motion. Tony claims it. Claims it all. Suckling on Peter’s lower lip, tilting the boy’s head in the exact right angle. “S-sir, please. Please I need you so bad,” Peter babbles into Tony mouth and Tony’s entire system surges forward. His abdomen tingling with an increasing need to pound this sweet sub into oblivion. He can’t believe Peter has known all these weeks, all these weeks of innocent teasing and playfulness- god. The popsicle sure hadn’t been an accident. And the suit…

“The suit, pretty Pete, is it broken at all?” “N-no!” Peter squeaks and Tony grins, pulling back slightly. He moves a loose strand back behind Peter’s ear and basks in the hungry gaze right in front of him. “You little bastard,” Tony laughs and yanks Peter’s head back with a controlled motion. Peter gasps, his cock twitches, and his hands dig into the metal surface beneath him. “Everything for you, Sir. I did everything for you.” “Nngh, such a good boy. So eager to get my cock aren’t ya?” “Yeah, need it. I need it so bad.”

Tony carefully releases his grip on Peter before he moves his hands down hastily to undo the fly of his now way too tight jeans. He curses, muttering under his breath, as he slides it down. God, never in his life had he been more grateful for the weird habit of not wearing shoes inside the lab. Peter in return, shifts to lay down face-up on the table. His head tilted to the side and oh fuck oh fuck Tony knows exactly what he’s offering right there. He kicks his boxers off too and strokes his achingly hard cock a few times to release some of the tension that had been building up over the course of merely a minute. Peter follows the motions with his eyes and bites on his bottom lip. He then looks up at Tony with the most innocent and at the same time filthy gaze Tony has ever seen in his entire life. This boy will be his undoing. “Open up, baby,” Tony grunts and Peter complies right away. His lips part in a perfect seductive O-shape and Tony takes a step closer, his cock now dangling in front of Peter’s face. “Come on, suck it honey.”

Peter has to crane his neck even more to properly reach it and he does exactly that. Tony’s legs nearly give out when the soft, hot, wet lips wrap themselves around his way too sensitive flesh. His pelvic floor muscles jerk involuntarily- his dick twitching as a result of it. It only makes Peter moan and slide down onto the shaft more. His tongue is fucking heaven, smooth as velvet and so hot, playfully circling the head of his cock. Around, up and down, the tip of Peter’s tongue teasing the slit and Tony can literally feel precum oozing onto the boy’s tongue. “God, aren’t you a filthy little thing,” Tony breathes. His voice is rough and shaky and he loves how it has Peter’s cheeks flush a bright red. “You like having your mouth stuffed?”

The boy nods as much as his current position allows him to and it sets off yet another heatwave throughout Tony’s abdomen. He knows he won’t last long. Not with Peter, beautiful, innocent, perfect Peter who looks so content pleasuring his newfound Dom. Tony decides the boy deserves the same amount of pleasure he himself is experiencing right now. While one hand reaches up to Peter’s neck to support it and keep it from straining, the other moves towards Peter’s hard and now leaking cock. His calloused fingers wrap around Peter’s delicate skin and he slowly moves it down. Peter’s uncut, and the movement allows for the beautiful pink head to be revealed. Peter’s hips buck into the touch, the kid’s nostrils flaring wide as he chases the pleasure given to him. “You deserve this, pretty boy, deserve to have your cock milked by me. You’ve wanted it for so long now, so take everything I’ve chosen to give you.” Tony has never been this vocal during sex but the words just keep coming and coming without stop. “Gonna show me every inch of your pleasure as I’ll make you cum. It’s mine. You’re mine. My sweet, sweet Peter.” “M-m!” Peter whimpers around Tony’s cock still pounding into his mouth relentlessly. Tony moans out loud, his hips and hand speeding up in the same rhythm. He’s desperate. Desperate for release. Desperate to see Peter’s eyes roll back as white stripes of cum stain his ripped abdomen. He wants Peter filthy and used and then coddle him back to reality.

“You close yet? Ready to show me how adorably your cock will surrender to me?” Peter hollows his cheeks now, sucking and looking up at Tony teary-eyed with happiness and belonging. Tony feels equally surprised by how well their bodies seem to fit together, as if they’d never done anything but this. As if it were meant to be. For a short moment, Tony pulls his cock out of Peter’s mouth. The cold air makes it sting a little and he loves how Peter’s head moves forward in a futile attempt to chase it. “Beg for it, Peter. For everything,” Tony hisses and Peter doesn’t even need a second to think before he complies to Tony’s order. More than he ever deemed possible from the supposedly innocent young adult. “Please please please Sir, please, I want to taste your cum in my mouth. Want it to drip past my cheek because I can’t take it all. Want to show you how amazingly good you make me feel, want to gift you with my cum. Please, Sir. Please take everything you want from me. Plea-”

Tony shoves his cock back past Peter’s lips and enjoys how it muffles the rest of the boy’s plea. His hand around Peter’s cock speeds up. Faster, and faster, as he pounds faster into Peter’s mouth as well. The movements fall into a steady rhythm that has both men lose their minds in ecstasy. “Peter-Peter, I’m so close. Gonna fill you up so nicely. I’ll give you exactly what you so desperately want. Want my cum to mix with your drool and watch how it slips past your plump lips.” Tony just- god. Oh god. He can’t. He can’t stop it anymore. His dick tenses, jerks. An all-consuming pleasure starting at the base surges through his entire cock, drawing his balls tight and he collapses forward as wave after wave after wave flows through his entire being. Hot spurts of come stain Peter’s wet tongue and the boy is whimpering like mad, the sound echoing right through him like a song stuck on repeat. For a moment, Tony is completely disoriented. The boy’s suckles slow down as his cock softens up inside the kid’s mouth. The gentle, kissy feel of it has Tony shiver.

“F-fuck,” he chokes out and lets his thighs now rest against the edge of the metal table to support himself while his hand still pumps Peter’s cock like a fucking machine. Peter’s legs are shaky, too. Toes curling and uncurling to release the tension that is so obviously building inside his body. He’s wound tight like a spring ready to jump into action. It’s only a matter or seconds now. The boy’s whimpers and whines and breathy gasps are mingling together into a sweet symphony of plain and simple bliss and Tony wishes this moment would never ever end. But his desire to make Peter lose it wins out. “Come for me, boy. Show me how desperate you have been for me all this time. Give it to me all, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Lose it baby, and I’ll catch you.”

Peter’s body literally trashes on the cold surface. The pent-up neediness finally finding a way to release itself. Peter cries out, his eyes open wide as his lower body shakes with every single eruption. The cum stains his hard chest and stomach beautifully. Tony watches mesmerized. He’s seen Peter in the club, but that’d been nothing. Absolutely nothing compared to the view in front of him right now. “M-Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark,” Peter mumbles, moaning, repeating the name over and over again until finally his body goes entirely limp. Tony sucks in a sharp breath, carefully unwrapping his now sticky fingers from his hold on Peter. He moves his hand up, trailing, smearing the cum even further across the smooth skin of the boy’s chest. All the way up to his nipples and more, until Peter’s soft and reddened lips suck a hint of his own cum from Tony’s fingers. “Hey baby,” Tony murmurs. His free hand has crept up to Peter’s face to caress his cheek gently. Peter shivers underneath the touch and another, soft, weak moan rises from his chest. “Mmmm,” he breathes. “-‘m feeling so nice.” Peter’s speech is clearly slow and slurred and Tony smiles down at the boy happily. He feels fulfilled in a way he’s never experienced before. “Good boy,” Tony replies sweetly and he leans in. Carefully, he presses his lips on top of Peter’s forehead. Kissing the skin again, and again. Gentle. Caring. His body filled with a need to protect and spoil this beautiful creature now that he’s no longer caught up with the need to release. “Come, lemme carry you upstairs.”

Peter perks up at that. “Y-your bedroom?” “Yes, why?” “Mmmmh, nothing. Nothing. I’m just very very very happy.” Peter giggles and rolls to his side a little. Tony cracks a smile. He knows what Peter meant. Knows that Peter knows that Tony has a strict rule of not taking people to his bedroom. It’s an unspoken promise. Something they’ll discuss later. Not now. Now, he’s going to spoil this boy to no end, wrap him in the softest blankets and whisper sweet nothings into his ear until he’s fully back on Earth. He slides his arms underneath Peter’s unresisting figure and lifts him up bridal style. The boy nuzzles his face into Tony’s neck. Cum is dripping from him, against Tony’s shirt and onto the floor but he couldn’t care less. “Mr. Stark?” “Yes, sweetness?” “You owe me another popsicle.”

Tony laughs.