#the not trying harder probably goes to all the undersiders though. they had their hands full though

[dw-flagler]

funny how much victoria places squarely on the shoulders of tattletale. she COULD HAVE STOPPED THE ENDBRINGERS AT ANY TIME but she DIDN’T just so that leviathan could KILL MY FAMILY. honey you sound insane.

[songbirdstyles]

i’m on fire

summary: harry can’t keep his hands to himself after getting home from filming.

warnings: breeding kink, spanking, smut, slight fluff, pregnancy mention, slight dom/sub

word count: 2.7k

song inspo.: i’m on fire - bruce springsteen, girls on film - duran duran, tango in the night - fleetwood mac

You’ve hardly glanced in Harry’s eyes as he walks into the foyer of your London apartment before you feel your back slam into the door behind you - your head thumps against the wood and a groan threatens to rip out of your throat but he steals it before you get the chance to make the noise, lips on yours and tongue stuck down your throat.

Your hands have nowhere else to go but to bury themselves in his hair, fingers curling around chocolate brown curls and tugging until you hear the soft hitch in his breath that indicates just how much your grasp affected him. And, God, it did affect him, clearly, as he pushes his hips further against yours until you can feel the thick bulge in his pelvis grinding against the softness of your inner thigh as you hike your leg up to hoist around his waist. He moves one arm from where he had been grasping your throat as if to steady him to the present and his free hand grasps the underside of your thigh, pulling it further up his abdomen until the stretch in your muscle makes you whine.

“Jesus fuck, Har -”

He shuts you up from whatever you were going to mutter as he deepens the kiss, teeth tugging at your bottom lip as his knee grinds into your cunt until you’re crying out, goosebumps overtaking every square inch of your skin even through the thick sweatshirt adorning your upper half. You hadn’t had much of anything valuable to say, anyway, but it’s the principle of his interruption that makes you grasp for his cheeks and pull his face from yours with a heaving gasp.

“What’s gotten into you, hmm?”

You’d almost be concerned about Harry’s state if you couldn’t feel him rutting his cock against your thigh - his face is red and hot, eyes half lidded and breaths panting and desperate with each sharp inhale of oxygen. Christ, he looks a sight in the best way possible, and your instinct is to snap your thighs shut at the feeling that rushes through your body when he leans in, pressing soft lips to the sweaty skin of your throat so it muffles his response. His hands find the hem of your sweatshirt (or his sweatshirt, really) and you have half a mind to raise your arms so he can pull his lips from your neck to tug the cloth off of your torso before he finds a vein in your throat with a newfound vigor, sliding his other hand up to grope at your bare tit like a teenage boy whose only just seen one for the first time.

“Jus’ wanna love on you, hmm - wanna love on m’girl, please -”

“Hmm -”

He grunts, then. Nips at a vein in your neck that pulsates beneath his lapping tongue and you can’t help but giggle, however childlike and naive the noise sounds, but it’s enough for him to drop your thigh from around your waist - grab your cheeks and spin you around, pushing you backwards and backwards until your feet hardly feel like they’re moving, like you’re floating through the entryway of your apartment until you reach the kitchen. Though Harry loves fucking you every which way in your bed, huge and comfortable and soft, there’s something primal about pushing you against the kitchen table and ripping down your flannel sweatpants and burying himself into your heat that you know he secretly prefers over the sacred oasis of your bedroom.

Your lower back hits the edge of the island but it doesn’t stay there long before he turns you around, pushing the front of your body against the island until your body has folded in half to bend over the slab of marble, cold against your bare tits and stomach. Your boyfriend reaches around to the front of your sweatpants, then, arms wrapped around your thighs to shakily untie the knot that you had carefully tied in the strings of your pajama pants - his chest rises and falls against your back, hips still pushing into yours over and over and you jut your ass out to meet the grind of his cock against the clothed globes of your ass.

“Tied this thing fuckin’ tight, didn’t you?”

“Didn’t think you’d try to rip them off like an animal,” you retort, lifting your hips from where they’re firmly pressed to the edge of the island once Harry has successfully untied the knot, tugging your pants down the slope of your ass until they unceremoniously drop to a puddle at your feet, and you impatiently kick them off as Harry snaps the waistband of your panties just to hear you squeal. “Come on, Har - know you’re impatient -”

“Mmm.”

His finger slide beneath your panties, knuckle dragging through your slit that’s positively dripping with your slick, and you hear his low moan at how ready you are for him but the truth is you’ve been fucking dripping since he sent you a selfie of him in his makeup chair on set two days prior, hair messy and eyebrow arched, and it hadn’t even been a serious selfie but it still made your clit throb when you saw it. He’d been gone for nearly two weeks for filming when you’d gone a full year of almost never being apart and, fuck. Seeing him like that did things to you.

Harry’s yours, god fucking dammit. The thought makes you spread your thighs more for him as he dips his finger into your waiting hole, curling them up once just to watch how your back arches, how you moan as though you’d been coded to do so. It’s a game he likes to play, testing you, seeing just how needy you are for him even if all he wants to do is bury himself inside of you and fuck you until tears streak your cheeks and you’re begging him to cum.

No - no, he does want that, you know that. Wants it so bad it makes his knees weak, makes his stomach flip and turn, but he wants to watch you fall apart more than anything. Needs to know you want this just as much as he does, if not more, and if he were truly dedicated tonight he’d finger you until you came at least twice.

Neither of you can wait for that.

“Jesus fuck,” he breathes, voice raspy and full of sex and wanting and you could nearly sob as you feel him finally start to tug them hem of his joggers and boxers over his cock. “Gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

But - but -

“Wait.”

He pauses. The head of his cock pokes at your ass in a way that would be funny if the revelation you’d just been hit with hadn’t hit you yet but it has, and you turn your head to press your cheek against the marble.

“Wha’?”

“I got my birth control thing out yesterday, the one in my arm. Remember - I told you I have to get it replaced. M’getting it tomorrow.”

There’s a pause in the kitchen, then, that hangs heavy over the both of you as you hear Harry’s shaky breathing behind you. And then -

“Did you just get harder?”

Harry exhales and even without seeing him you can picture the smile on his face as he presses his hips further into yours - “M’sorry - s’hot, babe.”

“Me not being on birth control is hot?”

“Yes,” and as if for extra reassurance of just what he means, Harry pushes his cock between your thighs until it’s slotted in your slit, head nudging your clit and making your legs quiver and shake as the stimulation rolls over you, eyes rolling back and head feeling fuzzy. “Makes me wanna fuck you so bad.”

There’s a quick consideration, you suppose - of the possibility of getting pregnant and the fact that you know there’s probably not even a single condom in your apartment for him to quickly put on, and even if there was the moment would die - and, come on, you’ve been together for almost 4 years and you’ve talked about kids in passing. If it happens it happens - that’s been your philosophy on it with him.

If it happens, it happens.

And it wouldn’t be the worst thing. Harry loves kids and you love kids and more than that, you love each other like the world depends on it - could never picture yourself living life without him at this point, and more than that, there is something hot about imagining him fucking you completely raw.

“Fuck, Har,” you moan, feeling your clit spasm as you grasp the edge of the counter. “I don’t care. Fuck me, pl -”

The final word doesn’t make it out of your mouth before Harry’s slamming himself inside of you and there’s no slow or sweet - it’s raw and unfiltered, giving you half a moment to adjust to his size after two full weeks without his cock, and it’s huge, feels like it’s splitting you open, like you’re back to the first time he’d ever fucked you and you’d had the fleeting question of whether it would even fit. It did fit, though, over and over and over, and yet the first stroke always makes you gasp.

Or scream.

“Oh, shit!” your resounding moan is shrill and punctuated by your legs just about giving up, knees collapsing until the only thing holding you up is Harry’s cock slamming into your cunt over and over, his nails digging into your bare shoulder blade before scratching up to tug at your hair. Forms it into a loose ponytail to tug at your hair like a damn whip, forcing your lazed face off of the marble until you’re staring into the darkened kitchen before you with blurry, watering eyes and a cunt that already feels fucked sore from just a few thrusts.

“Oh - god,” and Harry’s voice shakes and leaks with arousal, breath picking up as he pistons into you, cock stroking spots inside of you that you didn’t even know existed before him, before he had fucked you slow and sweet and made you oh so aware of every sweet spot your cunt was filled with. God, he’s good at it, at a fast unforgiving pace that makes your head spin and your throat go raw with sobs, and you slam your palm against the island with a moan. “So fuckin’ tight f’me - made for me, right?”

You don’t respond, words feeling snatched from your tongue with every stroke of his dick into your pussy, milking every drop of arousal for all that it’s worth.

“This - this fuckin’ pussy - s’mine, isn’t it?” And when his seemingly rhetorical question goes unanswered there’s a sharp slap to the bottom of your ass that makes you shout, throat aching with the noise. “Whose fuckin’ pussy -”

“Yours!” It’s a near shriek that’s fucked out of you, and there’s another slap to your ass as you babble, “yours, Harry, yours - belongs to you -”

“Sure fuckin’ does,” and then he pulls out and you want to shout, to slam your head into the island because surely there’s nothing worse than the emptiness that fills you in the worst way possible, but just as you begin to whimper Harry is gripping your thigh, grasp tight enough that you’ll surely see bruises come morning, and he hikes your leg up over the edge of the island, exposing your near-abused pussy to him fully.

The tip of his cock runs along your slit, spreading your slickness around your folds and before you can plead with him to stop teasing he pushes back in, cock drawing along your velvet walls and eliciting a raspy moan that feels nearly involuntary at this point. His grasp on your hair is released and you nearly drop your head onto the island in surprise but then he’s leaning down, clothed chest pressed to your sweaty back, and his forearms snake beneath your neck until he’s nearly caging your neck in his arms, lips pressed to the back of your neck.

His hips pound against your ass, the sound of skin slapping skin nearly overpowering your choked moans and yet it doesn’t quite manage to - you’re sure your downstairs neighbors must think you’re being murdered with the volume of your sobs, or perhaps they’re used to hearing you get fucked within an inch of your life just about every night. Harry going away for filming surely must have been their own vacation from being awoken every night to yours and his pathetic moans mingled together -

But their vacation is over, goddammit.

“Harry, I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum,” you gasp, voice staccato and quiet, and his lips close around the back of your neck until you can feel him suckling at the skin, desperate to watch your skin erupt in hickeys from his work. “Please don’t - don’t stop -”

“Never gonna stop, baby,” is your boyfriend’s response, nearly cruel with how nonchalant he sounds, and his pace picks up where he’s sliding in and out of you with squelching wet sounds. “Cum for me - cum f’me and m’gonna blow it, baby, blow m’fuckin’ load into your cunt -”

You whimper, making a halfhearted attempt to reach behind you and wind your arm around Harry’s neck but you can’t muster up enough strength, feeling the orgasm building in your abdomen build and build like a rubber band about to snap. It’s a feeling that’s all too familiar when you’re with him, like you’re always one stolen smirk away from straddling him in front of everyone and having your way with him -

“M’gonna cum in you, baby,” Harry whispers, voice low and hot against your ear, words being shot directly into your eardrum and sending a chill up your spine that has nothing to do with the chilled temperature of the kitchen. “Gonna knock you up, right? S’what you want?”

“Yes - yes -”

“Y’want me to fill you with my cum, hmm? Get you fuckin’ pregnant? All round w’my fuckin’ kid, fill you ‘till you’re dripping -”

“Oh, God, Harry!”

“Cum on m’fucking cock. Wanna feel y’cum around me ‘fore I blow it, sweetie -” It’s all the encouragement you need, a moan mixed with a sob tearing out of your throat as you throw your head back, body nearly convulsing as your orgasm racks through you like a tsunami on shore - and it’s everything, like he’s set you aflame and left you to deal with the inferno, and not for the first time you think about how you’re fucking made for him, for this, cumming harder than you’ve ever cum in your life, the rubbr band snapping and sending waves of pleasure through you -

“Fuck!”

Your orgasm hasn’t even come close to ending when Harry’s hips slam firm against yours, pressed taut against your ass and you feel him, feel every curve and vein of his cock against your walls and your mind goes blank as he cums, warm spurts filling you every which way and it only makes it better when he moves one of his arms from beneath your neck, snaking his hand underneath your body so he can shakily rub three fingers against your clit, milking your orgasm for all that it’s worth. You clamp down on him, every sensation too much and yet not enough in the best way possible, and you swear you see nothing but stars.

There’s a beat of silence, filled only with your heaving breaths and his soft gasps for air mixing with each other in the thick, suddenly humid air of the kitchen. Harry’s chest is sweaty against your back even through his shirt, lips still pressing warm, wet kisses to the back of your neck just underneath your hairline.

“Fuck,” you breathe, soreness already settling in your throat as you swallow, somewhat regretting your vehement moans and cries and shouts but somehow not at all - “Should probably go shower.”

“Not yet.” “Not yet -?”

“Stay here for a few minutes,” your boyfriend murmurs against your damp, sweaty skin, tongue poking out to lick a thin stripe from your collarbone up to the side of your throat, lips pressing just underneath your ear. “Gotta make sure it works. Gotta make sure you’re not leaving this fuckin’ kitchen without m’fuckin’ kid inside you, baby.”

~~

TAGLIST 

@hoeeforstyles @pcterparxer @hhh33-3l @saintsmotels @ficrecrry @bunny-munchkin-luvs-music @masumiyetimziyanoldu @luxplsr @strawberryystyles @shawnxstyles @harryslilkat @harryhub @golden-hoax @repostcentral @harry-styles-l​ @mintchipstyles​ @fallinforstyles  @zhangyixingxing1​ @goldenxstyles7​ @tobefalling​ @hslotcherry​ @alwaysclassyeagle​ @galacticferns @nineteenfiftyone​ @havethetimeeofyourlifee​ @sstarkme​ @stylesfics-xx​ @thecitiesintheseas @harrypinks​ @morethanamelodyy @lovesickrry​ @prettymuchxarreaga 

[jeongwife]

you know when svt had those zoom calls? imagine giving chan a blowjob while he was on there, talking and joking around with his members. he obviously got really mad (and horny) so later he fucks you numb 😵‍💫down so so so bad

can i be 🎞anon btw :0

HHEJEJEJEJKEKKEK I’M GONNA CRY THIS IS SO 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 LEE CHAN WHEN 🧎🏻‍♀️ also yesss you can be 🎞 anon and we’ve already updated the anon list <3333 ty for asking hehe 💗

it’d probably start because of how bored you are, trying hard to be patient but it feels like it’s been forever since he started doing the zoom call, and you obviously can’t show yourself on camera so you have to wait for him (a little grumpily) on the bed while he talks to the others. chan seems to sense your impatience, and every now and then he’d look off-camera to give you a barely noticeable smile, or he’d lie about having to go to the bathroom when in reality he’s using those few minutes to give you forehead kisses while promising he’d be done in a bit. but when the call doesn’t show any sign of ending soon, you decide to have a little fun, ignoring the warning looks chan shoots you as you crawl under the table before starting to palm him over his sweatpants. despite the glares he sends you, he doesn’t stop you as you tug down the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, breath hitching in his throat when you wrap your hand around his cock and stroke it to full hardness, running your thumb along the veins and the leaking tip.

his hips jerk when you take his cock into your mouth, pushing more of it down your throat as you start swirling your tongue around his length before gently flicking your tongue against his slit, moaning around the sensitive head at the salty taste of his precum. the vibrations cause chan’s body to jolt, his knee loudly knocking the underside of the table as he chokes out an excuse when one of the boys ask if he’s okay. this only spurs you on to suck him off even harder, drool dripping down your chin as you bob your head up and down his dick at a faster pace, your hand pumping the base of his cock to add to his pleasure. his hands fist into your hair, knuckles turning white as he shoves his cock down your throat, praying no one on the other end of the call can hear your faint gagging as the tip hits the back of your throat. you know he’s about to cum when his hands grip your hair even tighter as his breathing goes uneven, when you peer up from under the table to look at chan, his eyes are unfocused as he bites down on his lower lip to keep himself from moaning. he almost lets out a groan when you pull away just as he’s about to cum, his orgasm ebbing away as you tuck his painfully hard cock back into his pants before crawling out from under the table with a cheeky grin, licking your lips as you walk back to bed.

chan practically rips off his headphones the second the call ends, pouncing on you before you have a chance to wriggle away. his hand grips your jaw to make you look at him, his gaze hardened as he growls, “did you have fun, you little slut? was it fun teasing me when i was in a call with the others?” his anger grows when you merely smirk at him and say, “you liked it though, chan—” though you’re quickly cut off by a squeal as he roughly yanks down your pyjama bottoms and panties and lightly slaps your pussy. “don’t be bratty with me now,” he warns, “unless you want me to punish you and not let you cum like you did with me earlier.”

he smiles darkly when you quiet down instantly, his fingers dragging down your slit to collect your juices. “oh, so now you wanna be good, all because you can’t go a day without cumming around my cock, hm?” your hips buck against his as you whine, babbling about how you’re going to be good for him and that you want to feel his thick cock inside you, wriggling your hips desperately as he pushes two fingers inside your dripping entrance to stretch you out. “mm, i don’t think you deserve to cum tonight after what you did, baby,” chan teases, curling his fingers so they stroke against your g-spot, drawing a garbled moan from you as you beg him to let you cum, tears leaking down your cheeks as his fingers pump into you deeply, your pussy coating them in your arousal. “you can cum,” he says, “but only when i say you can.”

he doesn’t go easy on you, large hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucks you with hard and fast thrusts, knowing it’ll make it even harder for you to hold off your orgasm. your nails claw down his biceps and back as he drives every inch of his cock into your needy pussy, squelching noises filling the room as you let out pleasured sobs, feeling the leaking head nudge at your sweet spot with every thrust. “p-please, chan, w-wanna cum so bad,” you whimper, but he ignores you and continues pounding you into the mattress, another sob leaving your lips when you feel him sweetly kiss your cheek while he whispers, “not yet, baby. if you cum, i won’t touch you for a week.”

you scream when his hand trails down between your bodies to reach your clit, his thumb rubbing your swollen bud as your nails dig into his shoulders, desperate to hold back your orgasm so he won’t punish you even though he’s making it harder for you by rubbing your clit, broken sobs escaping you when he occasionally lands a few slaps on your sensitive bud, reducing you into a drooling, cock-drunk mess. chan groans loudly as your walls flutter and clamp down around his hard cock, feeling his own orgasm rapidly approaching. he leans down to kiss your cheek again, “you’ve been so good for me,” he coos, his thumb rubbing your clit firmer and quicker, “you can cum now, baby.”

your orgasm is intense as you finally let go, your juices soaking your lower body and his pelvis as you cum hard, body convulsing as chan continues thrusting to chase his high. with a moan, he cums inside you, intensifying your orgasm as he paints your walls with his hot, sticky cum before fucking it back inside you when it starts leaking out around his cock. “keep all of it in you, sweetheart,” he orders, dark eyes watching as your sensitive pussy clenches around emptiness as he pulls out, his fingers collecting the cum dripping out of you and pushing it back into your sopping cunt.

LOOK WHAT YOU’VE MADE ME DO🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️ — admin lily

[gaysimpsstuff]

BNHA Characters + Their Biggest Kinks

PT 2 Here

PT 3 Here

Genre: smut, obviously

Warnings: NSFW themes, hard kinks, BDSM kinks, lots and lots and weird kinks

Other: felt horny, wrote this

NSFW Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy

Characters: Hawks, Bakugou, Dabi, Shigaraki

Keigo Takami/ Hawks-

Authority Kink- mans has spent his entire life being bossed around, he needs you to submit to him completely and without question. Call him ‘sir’ and he’ll melt. When he’s in this mood, there’s no room for brattyness. Just bend over and let sir take his stress out on you.

Wing Kink- Pretty self-explanatory. The underside of a bird’s wings are very sensitive, and get them horny in no time. Same thing with his back, one when you were cuddling, you were playing with his wings and massaging his back, and you noticed he had his face hidden and he was breathing kind of heavily. It was an embarrassing situation to explain...

Breeding- This one comes more into play during Nesting Season, he just has you pinned down and just keeps going and going and going, trying to fill you up with his babies even if you want get pregnant. You’ll always be his little breeding slut. Even better if you have a bird or lizard quirk and you lay eggs (infertile usually). Even with a male reader he’d want to ‘breed.’

Pegging- He likes to bottom sometimes, so that he can whine and cry and beg and be a good boy for his y/n. Expect him to come home from work feeling more tired than stressed. Total pillow princess. He needs you to fuck him into the mattress so hard that he’s only flying tomorrow.

Praise/body Worship- This goes both ways. You’re his everything, and he wants to make sure you’re aware of how much he appreciates you, but he’s so insecurities that he needs it in return. Soft, teasing touches, whispered I love yous, doing so wells, my pretty baby, go a long way for this man.

Dirty Talk- he wants you to know just what he’s going to do to you, how he’s going to fill you up so good, make you need him and his cock, make you cry for him to keep going, beg for his cum. Even when he’s on bottom, he’s babbling and whining. You can’t get this man to shut the fuck up. It can get annoying at times.

Bath/shower sex- this plays more into his bird instincts. Bathing/ cleaning oneself usually gets birds horny. They usually preen prior to mating season so look out for that. There’s just something about ducking you in his bathtub (jacuzzi) that gets him going like nothing else.

Katsuki Bakugou/ Dynamight-

Switch- this man will present as a top, but he has absolutely nothing against getting manhandled and having the life fucked out of him. Just so long as he can do the same to you. Fuck him rough and good and then take his revenge tomorrow.

Rigger- after all he’s been through, he does not wanna be tied up at all. But he has no problem with handcuffing you or wrapping your pretty body up in Shibari and watching you struggle against them. Will totally tease you the whole time.

Gags- You’re still talking? You need to shut the fuck up. Or else you’ve got something keeping your mouth shut. Tape, underwear in mouth, his hand or fingers, or an actual gag. Loves your muffled sounds when he asks you a question. “Want me to keep going? You gotta say so. Aw I didn’t hear anything so I guess you want me to stop...”

Dirty Talk- Just like Hawks, he can’t keep his mouth shut. But this one is spilling the dirtiest filth you’ll ever hear. Plays into a minor corruption kink. Wants you to repeat it all back to him. On the flip side, gets so flustered when you talk dirty to him. Whining about how you’re a pervert, but just ignore him, he’s hard as shit right now.

Dacryphilia- All those years of Deku crying and you think he wouldn’t have a crying kink? Thinks your tears are so beautiful, might even lick them off your face. “Aww, look at you~ crying for my fuckin cock.” Don’t be weirded out if he licks them off your face. He also cries during sex, though. It’s just too fucking good and he hasn’t had a good cry in a while. Tease him about it and he’ll hide his face, but praise him for it and he’ll cry even harder.

Praise- This man shouts enough degradations outside the bedroom, he wants sex to be different from everything else. Gets a little embarrassed first time he praises you, but if you look at him with those shy eyes and a quivering lip, he’s just gonna keep loading it on. He also wants to be praised, both out of insecurities and superiority. When he’s bottoming just repeat how amazing he’s doing, how no one else is as pretty as him. When he’s on top, he still needs you to be praising him. Tell him how good his cock feels, how he’s gonna make you cum, how no one else fucks you as good as him.

Impact Play- mostly spanking. Uses his quirk. He loves it when your skin forms a light burn in the shape of his hand. Spanks you even if his handprints don’t show up on your skin. He needs it to, just keep smacking his stomach and thighs with a paddle until he’s sobbing.

Touya Todoroki/ Dabi-

Degradation/ Brat Taming- Starting off with the roughness with this guy. These two go hand in hand for Dabi, you need to know where you belong. Underneath him, begging and crying for his cock, his mercy, anything. You need to understand your only purpose is to service him, moan for him, and be his little personal cumdump.

Hard Dom- he won’t go easy on you, no matter what, you’re not getting it sweet or easy. It’s always going to be rough, fast, and difficult. Just try and complain.

Size kink- We all know this man is hung like a donkey, too big to handle. Loves it when you’re trying to suck him off and can’t even get down halfway. Even better when he’s pushing in, and can’t get further than six inches in. Just laughs at how “your cute little hole can’t take my fat cock can it, baby?”

Sadism- Pretty obvious, he likes hurting you. Knives? He’s got plenty. Fire? More relunctant but sure. Impact play? Yes sir. Loves seeing you cry and you babble about how much it hurts. His favorite thing is to write his name on your back with light burns that usually fade in a week or so. Always takes care of your injuries afterwords.

Bondage- Can’t have his little baby trying to touch themself can he? Can’t have his darling trying to escape from him, can he? No no, you’re better off tied to the bed, taking everything he gives you like a good little slut.

Sensory Deprivation- He wants you waiting, dreading maybe, anticipating, his next moves. You don’t know where he’ll touch you, what he’s saying, and you can’t do anything to stop it.

Corruption- He has a thing for people who seem innocent, and he wants to corrupt that innocence. To everyone else, you’re naive, doe-eyed, and probably can’t do anything for yourself. He’s going to change all of that. Bonus points if you’re actually fully capable and he morphs into a co-dependant mess. This man is all Yandere nothing else.

Teasing/ edging- Loves working you up to the grand finale, then pushing you back to the first scene. You’ll never forget his laughter as you beg him for your orgasms. You’ll be lucky if he lets you cum at all. He’ll humiliate the fuck out of you for your pitiful begging.

Tomura Shigaraki/ Symbol of Terror

Mommy/Daddy/Renny (Renny is the gender neutral term for Mommy/Daddy)- This man will call you whatever you want, but this is his go-to nickname for you. You’re taking care of him in and out of the bedroom, at least until he matures.

Switch- Up until he matures, your on top of him the whole time. Loves it when you’re in control, but after certain events in the manga and anime, he starts to gain an apprentice for being on top, although being so unused to it, he has a lot less kinks for being on top than on bottom.

Pegging- self-explanatory. He was always afraid of disintegrating his dick, and anal stimulation meant most of his fingers were pointed away from his body while only two or three were touching his skin. Safer. Now he’s got a huge appreciation for anal play, anytime you see him naked, he probably has a butt plug in.

Pet-Play- he’s your dumb little puppy, okay? Treat him like a bitchy little animal and he’ll do whatever you want. Feel free and drag him around on a leash or feed him food out of a bowl on the ground.

Feet- he doesn’t know why, but your feet are such a fucking turn on. Whether you’re wearing combat boots with spikes, fancy heels with a flower on them, or normal tennis shoes. Socks, thigh-highs and tights? Man is already begging. Just step on him and give him a foot job already! He’s begging, come on!

Water sports- kind of gross, skip this one if it’s gross for you (it is for me but for some reason I’m writing about it) but it’s something he appreciates more as a top than a bottom. Controlling when you go to the bathroom, giving you so many drinks, watching you squirm, begging and crying for him to let you relieve yourself, only to piss yourself. And when you do that, he’s on his knees in front of you, drinking it. Loves how embarrassed you get. Says “anything you make is always gonna be the best” while licking his lips.

CNC- something he enjoys as a top or a bottom. Skip this one if it’s weird or wrong to you, or a trigger. Always pre-planned with a safe word and everything, but he always pretends it’s real. Something about you or him not having a choice, being forced to take whatever the other gives them, begging for it all to stop but being betrayed by your body, it all just drives him crazy.

S&M- Doesnt care of he’s the S or M. He just loves pain. Crying when you spank or slap him, watching you scream as he cuts his name onto you.

[hansols-yoda-boxers]

Tales From Bingo Night

AFAB!Reader x Jeon Wonwoo

Word Count: 1917

Contents: handjob, outdoor sex, cum eating

[10:32]

It was quiet as the docks and canoe shed came into view through the dark. You weren’t sure what to say to Wonwoo. The act itself you were fine with but Wonwoo and you had fallen into a comfy friendship and this felt weird. Did he think it was weird too? He was usually pretty awkward when the topic of your sexual exploits came up. You didn’t think he’d want to be stuck doing this.

“You know, we don’t actually have to do this,” you started, not looking at him. Wonwoo didn’t respond so you continued. “Like it’s just a stupid thing on a scavenger hunt. And I can probably get Yanan to do it later anyway, we still have about an hour and a half. So if you don’t want to, I’m okay with that.”

“Are you okay with it?” He finally said.

“I- y-yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

You saw his shoulders shrug out of the corner of your eye. “You seem kinda stressed about it. It’s not something you have to do. You know that sentiment goes for you too, right?”

“I- Yeah I know,” you mumbled. “I mean it feels a little strange but I just didn’t expect us to end up in this situation at all this summer.”

Wonwoo slowed as you rounded the shed, looking at the woods between the shed and the edge of the lake. “Yeah I- that makes sense. But, I don’t know, it’s kind of weird but it’s alright. I mean unless you’re terrible at giving handjobs.”

You let out a little laugh, releasing some of your nervous energy. “Okay, hey, I’m good at them. You’ll be satisfied so no need to worry about that.”

“If not I’ll just tell the team you suck and Yanan and Yoohyeon will tell everyone else,” you could see his grin through the darkness.

“Alright, I take it you’re game then,” you snorted. “Do you know how you want to prove it?”

“Hongseok said be appropriate so he’s just going to have to take my word for it.”

“Good to know my reputation rests on a hand job in the woods.”

Wonwoo chuckled as he plopped down in the grass, resting back on his elbows. “You have been talking yourself up to me so…”

“Bragging really isn’t becoming,” you muttered as you kneeled next to him. Your fingers played with the hem of your shorts for a moment while you looked down at his body. “Are you alright if I just start? Do you want me to like, kiss you or something?”

Wonwoo seemed to think about his answer for a moment. “Either is okay. Do you wanna make out?”

“I- uh, maybe? I don’t know, I feel like I usually don’t think this hard about it.” You brought your hands to the waist of his shorts. Your fingers fumbled with the button and zipper.

“Having trouble?” He chuckled.

“Shut up, it’s dark,” you whined, though knowing there was a slight laugh in your voice. You started to shift his shorts down his hips.

“Do you always do it with the lights on?” He questioned.

“Are you going to ask annoying questions the whole time?” You shot back.

“Only if I’m bored,” he chuckled. You stuck your tongue out at him which drew a laugh from him. Your fingers curled around the hem of his boxers and you dropped your gaze down, away from his face, taking in the sight of his cock instead and trying to swallow back your awkward feelings. If anything his joking was keeping you calm. You started to wrap your hand around his cock.

“You’re not just going in dry, are you!?” He cried, a little too loud for your liking.

“Shhhh, shut up,” you hissed. “And… no, I wasn’t.” You pulled your hand away to spit on it.

“And you told me you were good at this,” he muttered.

“I am,” you said. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I’m not convinced.”

You rolled your eyes before taking his cock into your hand again. Slick with your spit it slid easily. You pumped him in slow movements, listening and checking around you for anyone coming closer. The only sound around you was the small waves crashing along the shore and owls hooting in the distance. Any din of people was too far away for anyone to see you.

He grew harder in your hand as the seconds ticked past. Your fingers teasing the underside of his head, the tip, not moving too fast though you knew your time was limited. You kept your movements slow and even.

Wonwoo let out a quiet sigh and you finally ventured to look at him properly again. His body was relaxing more into the ground, sinking into his shoulders. His eyes had fallen closed and the soft breeze ruffled the hair across his forehead.

“See,” you murmured. “I’m not bad at this.”

“You’re alright,” he hummed.

“I’m still getting you warmed up,” you scoffed. “It gets better.”

“Oh does it?” He asked nonchalantly.

“I have half a mind to work you up and not make you cum,” you grumbled, still loud enough for him to hear and laugh.

“Do we get less points if I don’t cum?”

“I-” your hand slowed as you thought. “I don’t know how they’re grading this.”

“Wait, go back to what you were doing,” he said.

You brought your focus back to the task at hand but the ghost of a smirk was curling your lips. “So you do like it.”

Wonwoo opened one eye to look at you. “Well it doesn’t feel bad.”

You shifted yourself, straddling one of his thighs before leaning down and letting more spit drool onto his cock. Even more slick, your fingers moved more easily and you gripped him a little tighter while taking up a steady pace.

When you sat up to look at him he was staring at you, lips parted and letting out the smallest of huffs.

“Did you think I was going to start using my mouth,” you teased.

“I-I- no that’s not-”

“Do you want me to?”

“Shut up,” he mumbled. “I have permission to not use my brain right now.”

“Not really permission if you do it all the time,” you chuckled. 

“I-” Wonwoo let out a moan instead as you squeezed his cock tighter in your hand, twisting your wrist as you stroked him.

“I didn’t peg you as a noisy one,” you teased.

“I- just- let me enjoy myself,” he said, a breathiness entering his tone. You leaned towards him a bit, now watching as pleasure started to show on his features. Your free hand trailed over the top of his thigh before you moved up his body, pushing his shirt up.

“Wh-What are you doing?” he asked.

“Just relax, will you?” you said. “I am doing a good job is what I’m doing.”

“You’re doing j-” you dragged your nails slightly down his stomach as your thumb played with the most sensitive part of his head again. “O-Okay, yeah you’re d-doing good.”

You smiled to yourself smugly as you went back to pumping his cock, a little more quickly and roughly. Your nails trailed over his skin and the night breeze that blew past your drew goosebumps up along his skin. Wonwoo let out more huffs and quiet moans and you felt his hips starting to press up into your hand.

You pulled back just a bit, slowing your movements and catching him eyeing you. “Come on,” he groaned.

“You want me to go faster?” you asked innocently.

“We’re- We don’t have time-”

You chuckled, leaning a little closer to him. “You would be fun to edge, you know that?”

Wonwoo started to sputter. And even in what little light you had you could see the colour on his cheeks at your comment. You still obliged him though, moving your hand now much faster than he was expecting and wrapping your hand around his cock tighter. You added a twist to your movement and Wonwoo let out a moan that was way too loud.

You slammed a hand over Wonwoo’s mouth, hovering over him and meeting his eyes. “Shhhhh, being that loud is going to get us caught,” you hissed.

Wonwoo answered you with a muffled moan and you took in his expression as he did. His eye lids had grown heavy and his gaze was a little hazy, though now focused on you with you being so close. You kept a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet as your other hand kept it’s quick pace and he started to press and rock his hips up to meet your hand.

“Are you close?” you hummed, this time with no teasing. Wonwoo nodded, trying to keep his gaze locked with yours.

“Are you going to be quiet?” you asked. He shook his head and as much as you wanted to sigh, a smirk tugged at your lips instead.

“If I knew you were this loud I would have brought a gag,” you hummed. Wonwoo let his eyes flutter shut but his moaning continued as you leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“I didn’t know you would be this much fun. I’ll have to take you way out in the woods where no one can hear us. And now we have those condoms. I can ride you and you can be as loud as you like.”

Wonwoo let out a moan, loud even with you muffling him, and his hips bucked up as he came. You felt the hot cum running over your hand as you kept pumping his cock, feeling more pour out with each pulse of his cock until one of his hands grabbed your wrist shakily.

“Okay,” he said breathlessly as you took your hand away, “Okay I’m good.”

“Well, almost,” you said, pulling your hand away and looking for somewhere to wipe it. But you didn’t want cum on your clothes and you didn’t want your hand wiping through the dirt so you did the only thing you could think of and stuck your fingers in your mouth.

When you met Wonwoo’s gaze you found him frozen, blushing hard, and watching you as you sucked his cum off your hand.

“Y-You- u-uh-” 

You rolled your eyes as you pulled your fingers out and licked some of the cum off the back of your hand. “It’s the easiest way to clean up.”

“I-I yeah th-that makes sense.”

You looked down at his cock, still coated in his own cum before looking up at him. “Be quiet.”

“Why? What are y- oh,” He let out a shaky, quiet moan as you dragged your tongue along his cock, catching the cum on your tongue. His hips twitched from sensitivity and you moved as gently as you could, finishing by sucking the tip into your mouth before you brought your face up to meet his, fingers grabbing the hem of his boxers.

You were met with Wonwoo’s hands grabbing your cheeks and pulling you in for a kiss that was much sweeter and needier than you could have expected. You froze as you processed what he was doing and as quickly as he had pulled you in he let you go, staring back at you wide eyed.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said faintly. “I didn’t- I-I shoul-”

“We should go find the group,” you said quickly, jumping to your feet.

“Y-Yeah we should,” Wonwoo mumbled shakily, tugging his shorts up.

[deathonyourtongue]

Tease

Summary: There’s seldom a good reason to interrupt a workout. But you’ve got a plan... Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader Word Count: 1.9K Warnings: Pure, unadulterated SMMMMMMMMUUUTTTTTTT.  A/N: We’ve all been wrecked by the tree trunks, the ham hocks, the thighs of glory. I just...Yeah, I had to. Sorry not sorry. Also, @fuckoffbard​? This one’s for you, boo! 

You’re not sure what wakes you first; the music coming from the back garden, or Kal’s cold, wet, nose nudging under your chin. Either way, you crack open an eyelid and look around. It’s early enough that the sun is barely peeking over the horizon and you can feel the chill outside without even having to see the light coating of frost on the hedges. 

Sitting up, you reach for your robe, the black floral silk slipping against your skin as you pad over to the window, wondering what Henry’s up to. Kal follows and within moments has his nose plastered against the window, panting happily at seeing his owner outside. Scratching the top of his head absently, you watch Henry do agility drills, happy to see his hamstring not causing any more issues. 

A grunt from Kal reminds you he’s probably hungry and with a pout down at the big ball of fur, you tie your robe and head to the kitchen to fill his bowl. Keeping your eyes on Henry is easy, as the windows that face the back of the property all have their curtains open, allowing a full view of his workout. It’s hard not to stare as he moves, each muscle a fine-tuned piece of machinery, working as one to make him faster and stronger with each workout. 

When he switches from running back and forth across the garden, to running side to side however, it’s all you can do not to drop Kal’s bowl and imitate your furry friend by pressing your nose to the glass. Henry’s always had nice thighs, but as of late, he’s dialed up his work on them; the sight of him laterally shuffling from one side of the garden to the other only amplifies the definition and size of his muscles there, and it only takes seconds before you feel a visceral reaction to what’s just beyond the window. 

With Kal preoccupied, you wander over to the back door, your lower lip caught between your teeth as an impish idea comes to mind. As Henry shuffles back towards the side of the house you’re on, you let your robe slip open, revealing a slice of your side and one of your breasts. You keep your eyes on a bird at the top of the hedge, wanting the whole thing to look accidental. 

It takes everything in you not to laugh when Henry comes to a skidding halt, nearly falling over in his haste to stop. When you’re certain his eyes are on you and only you, you take a seat at the kitchen table, the bench seat perfect for what you have in mind. 

Letting the robe fall open completely, you lean back and spread your legs. Henry’s body language goes slack and still, his eyes laser-focused on you as he moves closer, one step at a time. Your hands sweep your body slowly, spending some time on your breasts before slipping over your stomach and down your own thighs. 

There’s no missing the tenting in his shorts as your fingers move to your mouth before heading further south. Henry’s nearly got his own face pressed to the glass as your fingers slip through your folds, making your own arousal plainly visible as you tease not only Henry, but yourself as well. A soft gasp leaves your lips as you dip your fingers inside, your need growing as you watch Henry’s hips and thighs tense. Mouth slack, it’s easy to see just how much you’re turning him on. You work yourself to the edge then quickly back off, letting the robe fall off your shoulders completely when you get to your feet. The silk trails behind you as you make your way to the master bath, secure in the knowledge that everything is going according to plan.

The sound of the shower is the only hint you give Henry and you have to cover your mouth as you hear a commotion fit for a bull in a china shop seconds after you’ve made yourself comfortable; Henry’s made it inside and is definitely on a mission. 

“You absolute tease!” He growls as he careens into the bathroom, shirt half off and shorts at his knees. You bite your lip to keep from giggling as he struggles out of his sweaty clothes, Henry’s beaming smile making it clear he doesn’t mind his workout being interrupted for the right reasons. Opening the door to the shower, you gesture towards the built-in marble bench, one eyebrow raised in invitation. 

“Says the man wearing short shorts, letting the whole world see those tree trunks you call legs. Sit,” you joke, smiling as you watch him finally rid himself of the last sock before moving under the spray. Though you’ve made yourself plain, you don’t mind waiting as he lets the warm water wash over his well-worked muscles. Your hands slide up his back, eliciting a groan of enjoyment from Henry as he sags a bit under your touch. 

“Sit,” you repeat, kissing between his shoulder blades before gently nudging him in the direction of the bench. He sits with an ear-to-ear smile and an elated sigh, his arms opening almost immediately. Leaning in, you let him envelope you for a deep kiss, keeping your hips a teasing distance away from the part of him you know must be aching for relief. 

“Wha-”

“Shh. Close your eyes. No peeking,” you chirp, pressing kisses down Henry’s abs as you get to your knees. Smoothing your hair back with the water cascading over both of you, you can’t keep the grin off your face if you try. As your hands slide up his rock-solid quads, your lips find the more tender skin of Henry’s inner thigh. 

A breathless laugh escapes Henry as he feels your touch, but the momentary contraction of his muscles immediately releases as you continue to kiss your way slowly up his thigh. Looking up, you’re glad to see he’s not cheating and trying to steal a look; it makes what comes next all the more fun. 

Immediately after kissing the juncture where his thigh meets his hip, you let your tongue drag up the underside of his length, getting the jump you were hoping for. Smiling, you rub his quads with firm pressure, waiting until you feel the muscles go lax once more before continuing on your devious path. As your hands sail up his sides, you finally do what you’ve been wanting to since seeing him out in the garden; in quick succession, you leave a series of nips along his inner thigh.

Henry jolts like someone touched him with a live wire, his hips canting towards the ceiling of their own volition. 

“Biggest tease in the world!” He exhales, blindly trying to find the top of your head even as you move it out of the path of his hand. Smiling, your lips find the oh-so-sensitive spot at the base of his thick length, sucking gently until you feel his breathing pick up sharply. 

Not giving him time to think, you stroke him firmly root to tip as you move back to his inner thigh, biting just a little harder the second time around, your own excitement growing when he lets out a long, low moan, his voice going a touch hoarse at the end. 

“Tell me what you want, babe. Do you want….my mouth? Or would you rather…?” You let the choice linger as you continue tormenting him, your smile unshakable as Henry begins to squirm, his hips thrusting gently through your hand, the desperation for release growing with every stroke you complete.

Henry murmurs his reply, his voice barely audible over the spray of the shower. You continue your ministrations, laving your tongue over the places you’ve nibbled and sucked, wondering if the evidence of your teasing will show come evening; it would certainly be an interesting place for hickies. 

“What was that? I couldn’t quite--OOP!” 

Henry makes his answer abundantly clear as he picks you up off the floor with ease, setting you down in his lap, his blue eyes intense as he locks his gaze with yours. This time, you have no time to react as you’re lifted even higher, Henry’s strong arms holding you exactly where he wants you. Your mouth drops open in shock as you feel his tongue snake inside you, his eyes never leaving yours as he makes sure you’re ready. When he feels you begin to grind, he slowly sets you back down, the movement as controlled as it is effortless for him. You make sure to grind against his cock in retaliation for his surprise feast. 

“WOMAN!” He growls, Henry smirking victoriously as he lifts you once more, this time ensuring he gets a reaction as he takes up every last bit of room you have to offer.

You sink down to the hilt, your eyes rolling back at the delicious sensation of being so utterly filled. The indulgence only lasts a moment however, as Henry sets a demanding pace, bucking up hard enough to bounce you an inch or two off his lap with every thrust.

“Oh my god! Holy shit!” You squeak, holding onto his broad shoulders as you move with him, finding the primal rhythm the two of have had since the very first time.

“Ohh, now who’s getting teased?” Henry jokes, his eyebrows raised in mischief as he purposely slows down, bringing you flush against his chest with one hand while the other guides your hips as it cups your ass.

His lips find yours for a modicum of comfort as he continues the torturous pace, making sure you feel every inch coming and going. You mewl against his mouth, wordlessly begging for sweet release. 

“Want to come, my love?” He asks teasingly between kisses, Henry’s lips moving south until they find your breasts, his hips ever so slowly increasing the pace once more, driving you wild. You can’t help but nod feverishly, moaning softly each time his cock hits that perfect spot inside, making you see stars. 

The hand at your back finds your hair, Henry gathering it in his palm and pulling gently, exposing your neck to his own nips and kisses as he makes sure you grind down each time you find your seat on his thighs. Panting, you feel as though your heart might explode at any moment, but before you can even vocalize how good Henry’s making you feel, the pace switches back to blistering and you’re left to hold on for the ride as Henry’s hands find your shoulders for leverage.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FUUUCCK!!” You scream. The friction, combined with the angle, makes the world come off its axis and every thought empty from your mind as you explode around Henry’s massive length. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he hisses, bouncing you just a little more before pulling you flush once again, his body stiff as he begins to spill inside you. 

Completely wrecked, you can only cling to his biceps as your own orgasm continues to wreak havoc, spurned on by the feeling of Henry filling you to the brim. 

You’re not sure which one of you turns off the shower, but looking at your fingers, you can’t help but crack a dazed smile, seeing each one more pruned than the one before it. You dread getting off Henry’s lap, but before you can even muster the coordination to move, you’re encased in his arms again, Henry standing and padding out of the shower, still fully sheathed inside you. 

“Did I tell you I had the day off, love? Actions have consequences, and, well...We’ve only just begun.” 

You can’t stop yourself from reaching down and smacking Henry’s ass with a still-wet hand, knowing full well your teasing will be matched...again and again and again.

[lesbobiwan]

Yay congrats on the 100 followers!! 🎊🎉 I'd like to request Boba with 21 & 8 please ☺️

thank you so much!!!

#8: "If you’re going to act like a little brat then I’m going to treat you like a little brat.” and #21: “Did I stutter? Do as you’re told!” + Boba

warnings: exhibitionism/voyeurism, blowjobs, orgasm denial, brat taming, f!reader

You had been itching for trouble the second you woke up. It was a bone-deep ache, and you just knew that you were going to get in trouble for the things you hadn't done yet.

You don't care though. You know there will be consequences for this feeling deep inside you that you are undoubtedly going to act upon, but it will be worth it.

It always is.

You take another sip of your drink at the bar, eyes trained on Boba.

He's sprawled across the throne and his very presence ignites something deep in your chest. Stars, he's so huge and he's all yours.

Or at least... he will be.

You drain the rest of your drink before rising from your bar stool. The mass of people that loiter around Boba's throne room part for you like you're a windstorm and they're all helpless to stand in your way.

The feeling of being The King's is intoxicating. Everyone here, from the scummiest of smugglers to the humble merchants, know that you're Boba's.

By the time you reach the throne, Boba's visor is already trained on your approaching form. He shifts in his throne, shoulders rolling back subconsciously to give himself a broader appearance — not that he needs it. His body is already all encompassing.

"My King," you murmur, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you climb into his lap, straddling both of his thighs and pressing your hands against his chest plate.

Boba hums, both of his massive hands coming to rest just above your ass. His fingers dig in slightly, making your already short and thin dress ride up even more than it did when you straddled his lap.

You wonder if he can feel your aching, bare pussy against his thigh.

His grip tightens on you and his thigh flexes beneath your core.

He can feel it.

"What game are you trying to play, Little One," Boba rumbles in your ear. His hands inch lower, trailing down to your ass cheeks that you know can be seen through your flimsi thin dress.

You pout at the reflective visor, hands sliding up to his shoulders. "What do you mean?" you ask as innocently as you can while you grind your cunt against his robes.

You feel Boba's cock stiffen underneath your core.

"You know exactly what I mean," Boba says, one of his hands sliding from your ass to rest on the top of your thigh. His thumb swipes across the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you feel your pussy clench around nothing.

Your fingers scratch at the nape of his neck underneath his helmet just how you know he likes. You're sure if you could see his face underneath that bucket, his eyes would be fluttering closed.

"I just wanted a little attention," you explain, hiding your smile with a well-timed lip bite.

The hand on your thigh tightens and a gasp hitches in your throat.

"Well, you can have my good attention later, in our bedroom, or you can have my negative attention now, in front of all of these people," Boba's voice sends a shiver down your spine.

His good attention will probably mean gentle touches and sweet words whispered in your ear. Maybe the sharp edge of overstimulation that comes when Boba is feeling particularly nice.

His negative attention could mean anything though. It could mean rough hands and sharp teeth biting into your neck. It could be the brutal feeling of denial.

Your eyes flutter shut at the thought of it.

You know what you want.

"But, my King," you gasp as though scandalized he would even think about giving you his full attention any time other than right now, "it's just... I'm so wet, and I tried to deal with it myself but my fingers just weren't long enough — not as long as your's."

Boba's cock presses harder against your aching cunt through his robes, "You touched yourself without my permission?" His voice is a sharp knife against your nerves and you relish in the feeling.

Finally you're getting somewhere.

"Well, you seemed to be too busy to deal with it yourself," you defend yourself before tacking on a polite little, "my King,"

Boba grunts. His hand on your thighs strays underneath your dress, and his leather covered fingers immediately seek out your dripping cunt.

You gasp, the sound cutting through the throne room.

The room quiets almost immediately. Countless eyes snap towards the throne, and you know immediately that they know what Boba is doing to you.

"Boba," you whimper, rolling your hips against the fingers circling your clit, "won't you clear the room?"

The eyes on you are... intoxicating. It's new — you've never experimented with people watching you and Boba, but the feeling of everyone watching you is like a drug you can't get enough of.

They're all going to see how you make the King feel. They are going to see proof that you are his and he is yours.

"No," Boba hisses, hand slinking down to sink two fingers into your cunt, "You wanted my attention. Now you have it. And you have their's too,"

His hand not buried in your cunt grasps your jaw and forces you to look over your shoulder. It's an uncomfortable angle, but you moan all the same.

The whole throne room is watching you. It's different from just feeling their eyes. Now you see their hungry gazes. How some of them avert their eyes when you catch them looking and how others stare at you head on.

You don't think you'll ever get enough.

"Boba!" you gasp, his grip on your jaw distorted your words a little, but he must understand you because he chuckles from underneath his helmet and slides another finger inside you.

"No," he muses, curling his fingers in a 'come hither' motion inside you, "what was it that you called me before?"

You back goes ramrod straight as he hits that spot inside you that only he could ever hit, "My King!" you sob, eyes clenching shut as your orgasm begins to build and build and —

Vanish.

You wrench your eyes open, staring down at Boba with a betrayed look in your eyes.

Did he just —

"You didn't think I was going to let you cum that easy, did you?" Boba is mocking you. He brings his hand up underneath his helmet, and you can only watch in shock as he sucks your slick off of his fingers in front of the whole throne room.

"But, I —"

Boba cuts you off with a shake of his head. Both of his hands work to pull his cock out of his robes. The position of your body conceals it from the rest of the room, and you can't help but be grateful.

Boba's cock is yours. No one else gets to see it. Only you.

Boba slaps his cock against your swollen and dripping cunt. "If you’re going to act like a little brat then I’m going to treat you like a little brat," Boba tells you, voice restrained as though his cock isn't out in the very public throne room, "And little brats don't get to cum. Not that easily."

Your eyes flutter shut. Fuck. You grind your cunt against his cock, getting it nice and wet so he can hopefully fuck you.

Boba's hands clamp around your hips, halting your movements. "What did I say?" he spits out, voice downright venomous beneath that helmet.

You blink at him, absolutely speechless. He isn't going to fuck you?

"Only good girls get to ride their King's cock in the throne room. Bratty girls get down on their knees and suck their King's cock."

Your cunt clenches viciously at his words. The back of your neck grows hot. All eyes are still on you, and you know they'll remain on you when you get down on your knees — because you will get down on your knees to suck Boba's cock, it was never a question of if — to pleasure your King with your mouth.

You must take too long for Boba's liking.

“Did I stutter? Do as you’re told!" Boba's hands are mean as he pushes you off his lap, but they catch your biceps before you can completely fall to your knees on the stone floor.

Boba doesn't like it when his play things get hurt by something other than him.

You settle yourself on your knees as comfortably as you can, eyes trained on the throbbing length in front of you.

Your mouth waters at the sight. You at least hope you can put on a good enough show for the throne room so that Boba finally decides to fuck you.

"As you wish," you say as demurely as you can as though you weren't just fingered in front of dozens of Tatooine's worst, "My King."

Your lips stretch wide around his cock and your tongue rolls around the sensitive underside of his shaft, catching the ridge of his head in a way that never fails to get a reaction out of him.

And as always, Boba's hand buries itself into your hair and forces your head down further onto his cock.

"That's it," Boba groans his pleasure into the still-full throne room.

The music has long since stopped and the idle chit chat has gone silent. It's as if no one can tear their eyes away from the sight before them.

"There's my good girl,"

[yelena-bellova]

Don’t Be Afraid: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader - Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty: Party on Pasaana

Plot: Poe, Y/n, Finn, Rey and the rest of the gang journey to Pasaana to try and find the Wayfinder.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: none really

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: I’M BACK! This is by no means my best or favorite chapter but it moves the story along and boy, is there a lot coming...Hopefully you’ve stuck around this long and if not, I’m not offended. Hope you enjoy!

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Despite the fact that I’d spent my day fixing the Falcon, me and Chewie still ran every diagnostic possible on it before even thinking about taking her up. She was too temperamental to be treated any differently.

“You know I love flying with you, but don’t feel like you’re obligated to come with, Chew,” I said, closing up the last panel on the underside of the ship, “This one isn’t going to be a simple supply run.”

Chewie groaned in protest at my offer to let him stay on base, reminding me of the promise he’d made to Dad. That he’d protect me and he didn’t intend to stop doing that anytime soon.

I conceded to the Wookiee and emerged from underneath the Falcon. I found Rey finishing her repairs as Poe stood nearby, patting her on the arm, “We’re going with you. Chewie, you get that compressor fixed?” “No, I did,” I answered, dusting off my hands on my pants. The two of us still hadn’t spoken since our fight earlier in the day. “What do you mean you’re coming with us?” Poe separated from Rey, revealing Finn and the droids behind him, and led me to the side of the Falcon. He kept space between us, probably because he didn’t know where we stood after our fight.

“Do you honestly think we’d let you guys take this on by yourselves?” he asked.  

“Poe,” I shook my head, “Rey and I don’t even know what we’re walking into, I don’t want to throw you guys in the line of danger.” “So it’s too dangerous for me to risk my life but not you?” he asked with raised brows, wedging me between a metaphorical rock and a hard place, “Y/n, we’re a team. If one of us goes, we all go.” I hung my head in frustration, these were the type of situations that I hated the most. I couldn’t protect everyone, that had been made clear, and I certainly couldn’t justify to Poe why it was okay for me to charge headfirst into a fight but not him. Though I’d try every time, even if it was bound to end in failure.

“Fine,” I relented, shrugging and letting my hands fall against my legs, “But I’m flying us there.”

“Understood,” Poe agreed, pulling a corner of his lip up in an almost smile, “I am sorry about today, y’know…It was stupid of me not to think about how much the Falcon means to you.” “Me too,” I sighed, remembering all the harsh words we had flung at one another in contrast to the white flags me were now waving. This wasn’t the first makeup we’d had lately. Not by a long shot. Poe and I had been fighting more than usual, tensions were high with all that was going on and our relationship wasn’t escaping un-scorched. There was never any doubt as to whether or not we still loved each other, but we needed to find better ways of dealing with our stress rather than taking it out on each other. “Chewie told me there was only one escape route and you took it. You guys coming back alive is more important than anything else.”

Where there should have been a kiss or intertwined fingers, there was only silence and our best attempts to smile. There was so much lying underneath the surface that we didn’t ever have time to deal with.

“I wish you’d tell me.” I tried my hardest not to look phased, “Tell you what?” Poe swallowed as he stared into my eyes, “Whatever it is you’re keeping from me.” Every hair on my body stood to attention and fear shot through my veins. I knew he’d become suspicious of me but we hadn’t addressed it out loud before. Once the words of distrust hit the air, it became a true issue. The bottom line of it all was if Poe knew I had been in contact with Ren, he would never trust me with anything ever again.

My tongue peeked out to wet my lips as I nervously shifted my weight to my other foot, “I need you to trust me that what I’m doing, I’m doing for the good of the Resistance.” “We don’t keep secrets from each other, Y/n,” he shook his head and placed his hands on his hips, “That’s not us.” “You wouldn’t understand it, it’s Jedi stuff.” He bit his lip and nodded sarcastically, “Oh, so because I’m not a Jedi, my little average brain couldn’t possibly understand whatever problem you’ve got? Thanks for clearing that up.” “Poe,” I took a step and reached out to grab his forearm, “I didn’t mean it like that. Just please trust me. Everything I do, I do it to keep us safe.” I watched the emotions flicker in his eyes, changing from confusion to anger to desperation to hurt. The thought of confessing to him came through my mind at least ten times a day, but it wasn’t possible. Selfishly, I didn’t want to watch him learn of my betrayal. He would never look at me the same way and I wasn’t ready to lose that.

“I trust you more than anyone,” he finally said, stiffening his voice to hide his emotions, “I just wish you felt the same way about me.” He shrugged out of my hand’s hold and made his way up the ship’s ramp. I chewed on my bottom lip and leaned my forehead against one of the Falcon’s legs. There was nobody on any planet in any galaxy who I trusted more than Poe. He was the best thing that had ever happened to me and the fact that he was beginning to doubt my trust in him was a sucker punch. This time he wasn’t at fault, he only wanted to help me shoulder the burden. But there was nothing he could do to aid in the mental torture I was inflicting on myself.

I turned on my heels to go find my mother but froze at the sight of her and Rey locked in an embrace. I could sense the sadness in Rey that came with leaving her, the only mother figure she could remember having. Watching as she turned away, clipping Uncle Luke’s lightsaber to her belt, I took my cue to say my farewell.

“We’ll check in when we can, if we can,” I stated, partially as a commander but also a daughter to her worried mom, “Who knows, maybe we’ll be back in time for dinner.” A lame attempt at humor, yes, but there was nothing I wouldn’t do to try and make her smile in the most concerning of hours. “Look out for each other, don’t take too many risks,” she instructed, taking my hand in hers, “And come back in one piece.” There was some feeling in the air that I couldn’t put a name to, but it was there nonetheless. I never liked leaving Mom but with the stakes as high as they were, I felt a new sense of dread. I wasn’t immune to fear of losing my life and the reality of something happening to me and leaving her on her own caused a new urgency inside me to come back alive.

“I love you,” I whispered, squeezing her hands tight as tears began to fill my eyes, “So much.” “My darling,” I could hear the emotion in her voice that she was pushing down, “You are the greatest love I could have ever asked for.”

There wasn’t much more that could be said as I bent down to hug her, there was so much meaning inside our few words. We’d survived for a year as a family of two, something we were never meant to do, but we’d somehow done it. Mom’s health had begun to worsen with her age, but the incident on the Raddus had forced what was natural to happen prematurely. She got tired quicker, she required a cane sometimes and needed my help more often, though she always tried to avoid asking. I didn’t think it possible but we’d somehow grown closer in the last year, which made it all the more important that the mission go right and I return safely.

She whispered against my ear, “May the force be with you.” I pulled back with a watery smile, “We’re gonna need it.” With a kiss to her cheek, I forced myself to head back to the ship with a deep pain in my chest. It felt like I was tied to both the Falcon and Mom, the more distance I put between her and I, the more I began to hurt. It lit yet another flame of determination inside me to come back victorious.

Rey had waited for me outside the Falcon, attempting to act like she hadn’t witnessed the tender moment. The two of us shared a hopeful smile before we walked up the ramp together. When we arrived in the cockpit, it was apparent that it was going to be a tight fit. Rey moved to take the empty co-pilot’s chair with Chewie standing in the back, waiting to be called to action. Poe and I didn’t bother to make eye contact choosing instead to bury our pain for a later date. I gave Finn a good natured slap on the shoulder before sinking into the captain’s chair. I’d flown the Falcon hundreds of times by now and yet each time I took the controls, I felt like a child way out of their depth. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, there was no time to waste on fear. All that mattered was the mission.

“Next stop,” I narrated as I readied myself to lift the ship off the ground, “Pasaana…” ————

“You sure this is it?” Poe asked from the front of our group.

“I followed the coordinates perfectly,” I panted, already missing the jungle heat as opposed to Pasaana’s dry kind, “Right, 3PO?”

“Mistress Y/n is correct, these are the exact coordinates that Master Luke left behind.” We rounded the bend of the hill we’d climbed to find the least likely scenario on a planet we’d thought remote; a party.

“What is this?”

“The Aki-Aki Festival of the Ancestors,” 3PO explained, “This celebration occurs only once every 42 years.” “Well, that’s lucky,” Finn commented from beside me.

“Lucky indeed, this festival is known for both its colorful kites and its delectable sweets.” Under normal circumstances, I have had all the patience in the world with the droid I’d spent my whole life around. But now, overlooking the obstacle that would make it harder to find the Wayfinder and ultimately save the galaxy, I joined my friends in staring him down. “3PO, read the room.” “Let’s get down there,” Poe directed with a thumb tucked into his holster, “This is gonna take way longer than it should.” Having spent the better part of my life traveling, I loved getting to immerse myself in different planet’s cultures. It was one of the reasons my diplomatic skills were so highly tuned, I knew how to connect with all different types of people. So there was a small part of me, though stressed, that made a note to take in the sounds of the Aki-Aki’s chants and the array of colors in the crowd. I wasn’t the only one interested in the details either…

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” a wide eyed Rey commented as Finn and Poe passed us by.

“I’ve never seen so few Wayfinders,” Finn retorted.

“Take in what you can, we won’t be back for another 42 years,” I bumped Rey with my hip before following our group.

“There’s always random First Order patrols in crowds like these, so, keep your heads down,” Poe turned to look back at us, zeroing in on the only one tall enough to stick out, “Chewie. Let’s split up, see what the locals know.”

Rey was too taken by her surroundings to fully register what Poe was saying and Finn had gone with my boyfriend, leaving me to follow along with them. As soon as I did, Poe turned to me, “What are you doing?” “…Coming with you?” “We’ve gotta cover as much ground as possible,” he gestured over towards a grouping of tents, “Try talking to some of the traders, see if they know anything.” Thinning my eyes at him in shock that we were on a mission and Poe didn’t want me with him, I decided that now wasn’t the time to fight back. “Fine, Bee,” I called to my boyfriend’s droid hovering near Rey, “You’re with me.” The two of us made our way through a couple vendor’s booths, unsuccessful in getting any information about the location of the Wayfinder. I didn’t even have to do much talking with them, my senses could tell me whether or not my question brought up any memories. Which was good for me because I wasn’t in the mood to do a lot of chit chatting. Bee must have picked up on my silent frustration because he nudged me in my calf, urging me to talk. “He could have said it about ten other ways,” I vented, “But instead he had to make it sound like I was doing something wrong by going with them.” You know how he can be when he’s stressed. “I’m stressed too,” I cried, gesturing to my chest, “And maybe I wanted to go with him because I feel a little less worried when I’m with him. It’s never mattered what’s going on, we’ve always partnered together on missions. Clearly he doesn’t need me this time.” Didn’t you two have a fight before we left? Do you think it has something to do with that? I sighed defeatedly, “Probably…Or the fight we had earlier today, or the one we had just before he left a few days ago…” There was no shortage of examples I could have given as to why Poe didn’t want to be around me. “Things aren’t great between us right now.”

Maybe you should talk to him about it.

“Not right now, Bee. There’s bigger things at hand then Poe and I fighting. Nobody here knows anything, let’s go find the others.” When we made it back, Finn and Poe were engrossed in a conversation with an Aki-Aki. He turned his focus to me, “Got anything?” “I’d probably be a little more enthusiastic if I did, Dameron,” I remarked, taking a spot across from him instead of next to.

He looked between me and Finn, who was trying to remain focused on the Aki-Aki in question, “Whoa, what’s going on?”

The saddest part of why I was angry was the heart of the matter, Poe and I weren’t functioning like the inseparable couple we’d been for the last year. We were functioning like soldiers, ones who bickered at any chance we were given. And while I wanted nothing more than to talk to him about how I felt and ask him when things had gotten like this, not even love could come before war. I looked up at him, the frustration and hurt clearly painted clearly across my face, “Nothing that matters right now, I’m gonna go question some others but don’t worry, I’ll do it by myself.”

Just as Poe was opening his mouth to reply and I was ready to turn away, Rey came running in our direction. “We have to go. Back to the Falcon, now,” she ordered.

“Why?” Finn asked. “It’s Ren.”

Despite the anxiety running through my veins, I took a contradictory step forward. “He’s here?”

“He’s on his way,” Rey answered, her eyes wide and locked with mine.

“Then let’s get the hell out of here,” Poe began tracing our path back to the Falcon with his eyes, “It’s back this way.”

We ran through the festival with our heads on a swivel, until Poe shot his arm out as a barrier when we came face to face with a stormtrooper. “Freeze! Hold it right there. I’ve located the Resistance fugitives, all units report-“ A dart whizzed past us and landed perfectly in the trooper’s eye. We turned to see a figure holding a crossbow standing behind one of the tents, dressed in robes and his face covered with a helmet. “Follow me.”

With no other options in sight, we trusted in our mysterious savior and followed him. We climbed into his vehicle slowly rolling through the festival. “Leia sent me a transmission,” his modulated voice said before speaking in an alien language to the driver. “Okay, how’d you find us?” Finn asked what we were all thinking. The man reached to take his helmet off and I was greeted by a face I hadn’t seen in years. He grinned, “Wookiees stand out in a crowd.” “Lando!”

Chewie moaned his excitement at seeing his old friend and shoved his way past us all to hug him. “It’s good to see you too, old buddy,” he laughed before turning to me, “Look at you, the princess is all grown up.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and breathed for the first time all day, “I can’t believe you’re here.” “This is General Lando Calrissian,” 3PO said from behind us.

“We know who he is, 3PO,” Rey gently admonished.

“It is an honor, General,” Finn said, a big smile gracing his face. “General Calrissian,” Poe spoke up, “We’re looking for Exegol.”

Lando looked between our crew before centering on me, “Of course she’d send you.” I scrunched up my nose and tilted my head, “I didn’t give her much of a choice.” He shook his head with laughter, “You’re her daughter alright…” he flicked his wristlet on and a holo of a Wayfinder appeared, “Only two were made.” “A Sith Wayfinder,” Rey said, “Luke Skywalker came here to find one.” “I know,” Lando chuckled, “I was with him, Luke and I were tailing an old Jedi hunter,” he changed the image on his holo to a creature, “Ochi of Bestoon. He was carrying a clue that could lead to a Wayfinder. We followed his ship halfway across the galaxy here. When we got to his ship, it was abandoned. No clue, no Wayfinder.” “Is the ship still here?” I asked.

“It’s out in the desert where he left it.” “We need to get there, search it again,” Rey suggested.

My posture straightened as the sound of ship engines filled my ears. I peered out a window to see a small bunch of First Order ships flying towards the festival grounds.

“I got a bad feeling about this,” Lando muttered before turning to us, “Ochi’s ship is out past Lurch Canyon. Go!” “Thank you, General,” Poe said before beginning to help each of us out of the crawler.

Chewie moaned his happiness at seeing Lando again, something he reciprocated. Before taking Poe’s extended hand, I quickly embraced my non-biological uncle. “We’re on Ajan Kloss, come join us. We need pilots.” “My flying days are long gone,” he gently declined before taking my hands into his, “But do me a favor, give your mother my love.”

“I will, as long as you consider coming,” I said before kissing his cheek and allowing Poe to help me out. My heart ached to walk away from another member of my family…

“Can’t believe I never put it together that you’re a princess.” Poe said from beside me as we sprinted through the desert. I was hoping no one had noticed Lando’s long standing nickname for me.

“Of a planet that ceased to exist long before I was born,” I panted, “I don’t think that counts for much.” “Doesn’t matter, I’m still going to call you Your Highness,” Finn called from ahead. “There,” Poe pointed, “Those speeders,” he tossed his gloves off, slid beneath the vehicles and began hot-wiring the vehicles. The yelling of a group of Aki-Aki, presumably the owners of the speeders, made him hurry through his work. “We gotta go!”

Finn, Poe and 3PO hopped into one while Rey, Bee, Chewie and I crowded into the other. I didn’t have time to look back as I began steering but I could sense that Poe was surprised that I didn’t come with him. The urge to turn around and yell at him for the exact same thing that had happened moments before was strong, but once again not our highest priority. What was important was the stormtroopers tailing us. Rey took over on offense while I piloted us, it wasn’t until her cry of my name that I turned around. The troopers were flying through the air using jetpacks, something none of us had ever seen. 

“I can’t get a clear shot!” Rey yelled.

“Switch with me!” 

She continued firing her blaster as she moved to the front of the speeder where I let her take the wheel. I ducked down next to Bee and calculated what angle I needed them to be at for my plan to work.

I’ve got an idea. “Bee, not now,” I shouted over the engine, turning back to the problem at hand. Ignoring my ignoring him, Bee began tapping away at a stray canister in front of us until it shot up into the air. A yellow explosion burst from the canister in front of the stormtroopers. When one emerged from the cloud, his disoriented driving sent him off a ramp like cluster of rocks. Rey turned and took a perfect shot, the trooper’s speeder exploding in the air.

“Never underestimate a droid,” she grinned.

“He’s doing my work for me!” I replied, standing back up and nudging Bee, “Now where’s Poe and Finn?” “Y/n, look,” I joined Rey at the front of the speeder, “Ochi’s ship.”

Parked atop a large structure of rocks was a modest craft that hopefully contained the answers we needed. 

Rey’s face turned serious, “I’ve seen that ship before.”

“Y/n! Rey!” 

I whipped around to see Poe and Finn’s speeder flying up behind us, “You get all of them?”

As I inhaled to answer triumphantly, the speeder was thrown forward and us with it. We flew through the air before landing roughly in a pile of dark sand, the screams of the rest of our group following directly after. I rolled over with a groan and looked up to see one last trooper whizzing through the air. Finally getting to go through with my original plan, I got to my knees and raised one of my hands, force pushing him into one of the cliffs.

“So they fly now,” I exhaled, falling back on my heels. As soon as my full weight landed in the sand, it began collapsing into itself.

“What the hell is this?” Poe exclaimed, I looked over to see the same sensation happening to him.

“Sinking field,” Rey cried, “Try to grab something!”

I struggled against the pull of the field to try and reach a piece of our smoking speeder, but my torso was already below the surface making it nearly impossible. I had landed somewhat near Poe and tried to wriggle my way to where he was, him already doing the same. I stretched my arm out as far as it could and barely brushed his fingers when his head dipped down below the surface. “Y/n!” he called out just as I lost sight of him. “No!” I yelled, throwing my arm into the pit and fishing around to try and grab him. “Rey, Y/n,” Finn said frantically, “I never told you tha-“ he disappeared into the black sand, lost to us. “What? Finn!” Rey called, it was the last thing I heard below my body was pulled under fully. 

What followed was pure darkness, I kept my eyes squeezed shut as to not get anything in my eyes. In a flash of panic, I flailed about and tried to swim upwards back to the surface for a breath of air. All I could do was struggle and pray that I met the bottom, I didn’t want to die in a pit of sand. After a few seconds, I crashed through something hard and my back hit open air. I fell to the ground with a groan, Bee’s beeps and squeals a homing beacon in the dark. “Poe,” I sat up, feeling around the dimly lit cave for him, “Poe…” “I’m here,” he replied, I could barely make out his silhouette as he crawled on his knees to me. His gloved hand wrapped around my arm, making his close presence known, “Are you okay?” In a rare moment of tenderness, something we hadn’t felt in a long time, I reached up and laced my hand through his curls bringing his forehead down to meet mine. “Where’s everybody else?” Poe pulled me to my feet and unsheathed his flashlight, “Rey! Finn!” 

“You didn’t say my name, sir, but I’m alright,” 3PO said, coming in from the other side of the cave.

The sand seeping out of the ceiling of the cave followed by loud grunts sent Poe and I bolting towards it just in time for him to catch Rey and ease her down to the ground. “You all right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, “Where’s Finn?” “Where’s Chewie?” I asked, rotating my head rapidly to try and get a full scope of the cave. On cue, Chewie dropped harshly from the ceiling with a moan, I ran over to him and helped him sit up.

Finn climbed out of a hole behind us, “I’m good. What is this place?” He stumbled towards us, the four of us huddled together for a relieved reunion. 

Poe had one hand on Finn’s shoulder and one clutching my waist, he pressed a quick peck to my temple. “I thought we were goners,” he panted, I savored the feeling of being close to him even if it had taken thinking we were going to die to get there.

“Which way out?” Finn asked.

I squinted as I looked at our surroundings, “Can’t see a thing.” One step ahead of me, Rey unclipped her lightsaber from her belt and ignited it, lighting our path. Poe stepped forward as well, clicking his inferior flashlight on as if it would make a difference next to the luminous weapon. Shaking my head at my boyfriend, I ignited my own saber and followed Rey, “We need to hurry if Ren’s on his way. “So what was it?” Rey asked as Finn joined us.

“What?” he replied confusedly.

“What you were gonna tell Y/n and I?” A beat passed, “When?” “When you were sinking in the sand, you said ‘I never told you…’” Rey spelled it out for him.

He inched closer to the two of us and lowered his voice, “I’ll tell you later.” “You mean when Poe’s not here?” the man in question asked from behind us, staring Finn down as he squeezed between the three of us.

“Yeah,” Finn replied confidently.

“We’re gonna die in sand burrows and we’re all keeping secrets?” Poe deliberately turned his head to look at me when he hit the word ‘secrets,’ a wave of guilt washing over me. 

“I’ll tell you when you tell us about all that shifty stuff you do,” Finn fired back, referring to to hot-wiring of the speeders and no doubt something else he’d seen Poe do recently.

“I do not wanna know what made these tunnels,” Poe commented as he took the lead at the front of our group. 

Ever the helper, 3PO jumped in to give an answer. “Judging by the circumference of the tunnel walls…” Poe turned to the droid, “I said I do not wanna know. Not,” he realigned his focus ahead of us, spotting something in the shadows, “What’s that?” “Is that a speeder?” Finn asked. “An old one,” Rey answered as she got a closer look. “Wonder if it still runs,” I said, running a hand over the dusty vehicle, “We’re gonna need a way out of here.” “Perhaps we will find the driver,” 3PO said hopefully. I think they’d be dead by now.

“Yep, BB-8, I think dead too,” Poe responded to his droid’s astute observation.

“Oh, my,” 3PO pointed towards the symbol on the front of the speeder, “A hex charm.”

“What’s a hex charm?” I asked, shining my saber over the detail and getting a look at it myself.

“A common emblem of Sith loyalists,” 3PO answered. “The Sith…” I mumbled under my breath, running a finger over it and catching the dust in my hand.

“This was Ochi’s?” Finn asked. “Luke sensed it,” Rey stepped forward, “Ochi never left this place.” “And he ended up down here,” Finn continued the train of thought.

“He was headed for his ship,” Poe completed the sentence, “Same thing happened to us, happened to him.” I followed Rey who was hot on the scent of something, the two of us spotting the skeleton at the same time. “So how did Ochi get out?” I took a breath, “He didn’t.” The four of us moved as one to examine the carcass, mangled and broken into pieces but clearly bearing resemblance to a creature. “No he didn’t…” Finn muttered.

“Bones,” Poe said from beside me, turning away for a second to stifle a gag, “I don’t like bones.” “Bones? Never a good sign,” 3PO commented.

My eyes flitted over the scene while Rey searched deeper, spotting a bump in the sand with Bee and helping him to unearth it. She pulled out a unique carved dagger, I could sense the same thing upon seeing it that she could. “Horrible things…have happened with this,” she trembled. “The writing…” I crouched down next to her, running a finger over the weapon and trying to figure out what language the script was written in, “I don’t recognize it, 3PO?”

The loyal droid came forward and took the dagger from my outstretched palm. “The location of the Wayfinder has been inscribed upon this dagger,” he announced, “It’s the clue that Master Luke was looking for.” “And? What does it say?” I asked with a hopeful smile.

3PO turned to our group, “I am afraid I cannot tell you.” “20.3 fazillion languages and you can’t read that?” Poe asked in confusion.

“I have read it, sir, I know exactly where the wayfinder is,” the droid responded, “Unfortunately, it is written in the runic language of the Sith.” “And?” I asked, inklings of impatience seeping out of my voice.

“My programming forbids me from translating it.” “So you’re telling us the one time we need you to talk,” Poe shook his head, “You can’t?”

“Irony, sir,” the droid answered, backing up to face us head on, “I am mechanically incapable of speaking translations from Sith. I believe the rule was passed by the Senate of the Old Republic.” I wasn’t listening, none of us were listening as he went on, instead focusing on the large serpent that had appeared behind 3PO with a growing growl. The four of us took a startled step back and held out our various weapons. It let out a meaning roar followed by a loud hiss, alerting 3PO to its presence. “Serpent! Serpent! Serpent!” Surprisingly, Rey placed a hand on top of Poe’s blaster and lowered it as the serpent showed off its razor sharp teeth once again. Keeping her eye trained on the beast, she blindly handed her lightsaber out for Finn to take. “Rey…” he cautioned, gripping the weapon tight in his grip. I could sense what she was sensing as I watched her approach, the serpent was crying out in pain more than anything else

“I’m gonna blast it,” Poe said quietly, his blaster once again aimed at the snake.

“Don’t,” I whispered, contradicting my words as I kept my saber activated in my hand, ready to fight if necessary. Rey kneeled down next to the snake, her eyes still locked with it as she laid her hand over its body. It snarled at her but she didn’t flinch, shutting her eyes and doing what I suspected she would do. She healed whatever wound the serpent had, receiving a small non-threatening moan in thanks. It snaked away down another pathway of the cave, revealing an exit that lit the cave up with the sunlight of Pasaana.

Bee rolled forward to ask Rey what she had done as she rubbed her hand, “I just transferred a bit of life. Force energy from me to him. You would’ve done the same.” “Luckily, we won’t have that problem again,” I said as I deactivated my lightsaber and clipped it back onto my belt, helping Rey up after, “Nice job.” Our group climbed out of the hole and we got a good look at the rock structure that displayed Ochi’s ship we’d seen during our speeder chase. “Looks like we’ve got our ride,” Poe commented as we walked up the rocks.

“We cannot possibly fly in that old wreck,” 3PO interjected. 

“We gotta keep moving, find someone who can translate that dagger,” Poe replied, “Like a helpful droid.” “I suggest we return to the Millennium Falcon at once,” the droid said as forcefully as he was capable of being. “Troopers’ll be waiting at the Falcon,” I said, pausing my steps to try and shove aside the pain I felt at the thought of leaving my beloved ship behind, “We’ll find a way to get it back.”

Not more than two seconds after I spoke did each hair on my body stand up straight and a cold wave run through my body. I twisted to look out upon the miles of sand and rock, sensing the familiar presence of Ren yet not being able to see him. Rey and I shared a look, concern mixed with understanding that someone had to deal with it. I could feel that it was her that needed to confront him, I wasn’t the only one that shared a complicated history with the Supreme Leader. I nodded understandingly to her, the two of us not needing to speak a single word.

“What is it?” Finn asked, approaching the two of us. “I’ll be right behind you,” she said, handing Finn her staff and bag, “It’s okay.”

She passed by both of us, heading back down the way we’d come to go deal with our problem. “Let’s go,” I directed, turning back towards our new ride, “She’s got this.” The rest of us climbed the rest of the rocks until we hit Ochi’s ship, opening the ramp and heading into the heart of it. “Let’s see what we’ve got,” Poe said, switching on the flickering lights, “Let’s get those converters fired up.”

Finn, Poe and I marched to the cockpit, swiping at dusty cobwebs that adorned the ship. Poe flipped open the shutters and started her up proudly while Finn and I were more focused on looking out the windows for Rey. “Where is she?” he asked me.

Poe interrupted before I could form an answer, “Guys, help me out over here.” “Chewie, tell Rey we gotta go,” Finn ordered the Wookiee, who looked to me for confirmation. I gave a short nod and ran off the assist Poe in getting the ship up and running.

“What is she doing?” he grumbled as he sat down in the captain’s chair. “She’s helping us out,” I sat down in the seat next to him, “Trust me.” “That’s all I get?” he asked annoyedly as he flipped various switches, “Another Jedi thing I wouldn’t understand?”

“Are we really doing this right now?” I snapped, pressing a few buttons to help prep the ship.

“We wouldn’t have to if you would just tell me what’s going on,” Poe shot back, his voice raising to match mine. “It’s Ren,” Finn interrupted our fight, anxiety creeping into his tone. He bolted out of the cockpit leaving Poe and I to ourselves. “Finn, wait!” I yelled, taking off after him before he tried to intervene. I caught up to him outside of the ship, “Finn, you’ve gotta let her do th-“ My feet stopped as I spotted what Finn saw as well, Chewie was being loaded into a First order transport along with the dagger. Finn and I dropped to the rocks, crouching down and watching the scene unfold as the Wookiee pushed forward into the ship, hunched over and handcuffed. My natural instinct was to run and free him, but I knew that spelled too much potential danger for us all. And with Finn’s hand tightly gripping my arm, there was no way he’d let me go. It was one of the worst tortures I had to endure.

“We need to find a way to stop the ship,” I said quietly through my unshed tears, “If Poe could get that thing in the air…” “If we fire, the whole thing goes down,” Finn ended the idea as soon as it had been born.

I buried my face in my hands and rubbed furiously, my mind spinning with adrenaline and worry. The sounds on an approaching ship caught my attention, I rose to my feet and followed the noise across the rocks. Yards away from us stood Rey, lightsaber ignited with her back turned to the ship that undoubtably belonged to Ren. She took a running start as the craft advanced toward her and what happened next even I could hardly believe as I watched it. Rey flipped up in the air, letting her arm hang down and slicing off one of the ship’s wings. While she landed gracefully in a cloud of dust, Ren’s ship split violently until it was just the round cockpit rolling across the field of sand before exploding against one of the rocks. My breath caught as the flames engulfed what was left of his ship, I searched for any life left in the wreckage, sensing that he wasn’t dead yet. With my focus momentarily on Ren, I hadn’t noticed Finn had climbed down the rocks and was calling out for Rey.

“They got Chewie! They got him!” he pointed to the skies, I looked up to see the transport containing him had taken off.

“No,” I mumbled to myself, sticking my hand out to stop the ship using the Force. Rey had the same idea and aided me in my efforts. At that moment, a familiar cloaked figure emerged from the flaming wreckage, slowly making his way towards us. I could feel his stony, emotionless stare even with the great gap between us. Even so, I kept my focus on trying to pull the ship out of the sky. Ren extended his hand as well, creating resistance for Rey and I that only made us try harder. The three of us stood locked in our stances, throwing the ship from side to side as we battled for the life inside. 

Then suddenly, the fight was over. From Rey’s outstretched hand came thick strands of lightning that wrapped around the ship. It took mere seconds until an explosion ripped the ship apart.

“Chewie!” Rey shrieked in horror. “No!” Finn cried.

I dropped to my knees in shock, watching as the wreckage floated to the ground, Chewie buried somewhere inside. One loud guttural sob escaped my lips and I clutched my stomach, crying out for the loss of another part of my family. 

“Guys!” Poe’s voice broke through my grief, “We gotta go! They’re coming!”

Through my tears, I looked above to see Poe standing above me next to the ship and heard the noise of incoming fighters. I had to summon the strength to rise to my feet, my eyes drifting back to Chewie’s fiery grave one last time. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. I spared a final look to Ren, who I could sense was just as shocked at what had happened as I was. I sensed something in him, the same thing I had sensed when Mom had been thrown out of the Raddus. Sorrow. I wished I could have said I cared, but all I felt towards him was anger. He had contributed to Chewie’s death.

As Rey and Finn approached, I snapped back into action and climbed the rocks, Poe helping me and pulling me up the final foot. We bolted for the ship, racing to the cockpit and taking our assigned seats. He had gotten the thing in flying shape and as soon as we had everybody on board, Poe lifted it off the ground and shot us into the sky and away from the fighters. It was only when I knew he could manage without me that I slipped out of my chair and out of the cockpit.

A distraught Rey was waiting in the hold for me, she stood as I entered, “Y/n, I’m so-“ I breezed past her and Finn, I ignored the droids, I didn’t even think to go to Poe for comfort. Instead, I locked myself in the refresher and let my tears freely fall, mourning the loss of my life long friend.

----

A/N: I promise the next chapter will have little more going on...Let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged ☺️

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[clonecaptains]

Barba Ardeat - Nathan Bateman (Ex Machina) x reader fic

word count: 1.9k rating: E/M - for smut / slight daddy kink summary: Nathan is up late working and you want him to come back to bed... a/n: this is 100% self indulgent cuz i have a trash crush on him so here goes 

Barba Ardeat

The low whirring of a computer fan on most nights lulls you to sleep. You can’t sleep with absolute silence; neither can Nathan. His mind won’t turn off in the complete silence. Though, his mind is always working. He takes his work to bed with him. That’s why your mattress is on the floor next to his work desk. The sound of his computers running is a familiar sound. You’ve had to get used to dim light from the screen coming on at weird hours in the night, or the squeak of his rolling desk chair, a scratch of his pen on a sticky note.

Tonight though, the whirring stirs you from sleep. You roll over to find Nathan at his computer desk, glasses on his nose. Normally he sits so relaxed, an elbow on the desktop, his cheek pressed against his fist. Right now, he’s sitting up straight. Alert. His fingers are clacking over the keys, and you think maybe that’s what woke you instead. You’re too tired to notice.

“Nathan?” sleep is clinging to your voice. You sit up and stretch. “Everything alright?”

“I’ve got it,” he answers you, not turning around. His fingers haven’t stopped moving once. You see the lines of code flash across the screen. You have no idea what any of it means. That’s part of the reason he doesn’t mind you being here with him. You don’t understand any of it, so you can’t tell anyone trade secrets. Not that you would, you have no other motives. Ratting on your boyfriend isn’t something you have in mind. What you want, is for him to come back to bed.

“Got what?” You rub your eyes and stand up. Coming up behind him, you drape your arms over his shoulders, your hands rub up and down his smooth chest.

“I beat my high score,” he smiles, as if he can’t believe it. You’re confused, watching the screens, he’s obviously not playing a game. Unless writing code is a game you can get points for, you’re not even sure at this point.

“You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” you laugh kissing the back of his shaved head.

“Maybe,” he teases and tilts his head back to kiss the underside of your chin. “Go back to bed, baby. I’ll be up for a while.”

“No,” you whine, “Come back to bed with me,” you kiss the shell of his ear. “Can’t this wait until the morning?”

He sighs, leaning his head back to rest against your chest. Taking off his glasses, he sets them down on the desk. The metal frames hit the glass desk with a clatter.

“Yeah you’re right,” he rubs the bridge of his nose. His head pushes back into your chest a little harder, you know what he’s doing. You reach up to put your hand on his forehead to keep him secure to your chest. The back of his head cushioned on your breasts.

With another sigh, he reaches for his glasses to push them back on his nose. You let him go as he leans forward. He scrawls one more note, then spins around in his chair to face you. His hands reach for your hips; the vice grip pulling you towards him. He closes his eyes and begins to mouth at your breasts through your tank top. His tongue dampening the fabric covering your nipples. He huffs out a chuckle when your nipples peak, and his warm tongue laps back and forth.

He’s in control, never controlling, but always in control.

You’ve only recently come out to this place together. And he’s begun a project which you know little about. You’ve begun to fall into a routine. He works out in the mornings, then you eat breakfast together. He works during the day, always pausing for mealtimes with you. The nights belong to you. When he was alone, he drank to quiet his mind now that you’re here you help distract. Usually with sexual activities, but sometimes it’s just the quiet sound of your voice. He’s fallen asleep with his head in your lap dozens of times, you gently stroking his beard.

Only recently has he started to work late into the night, and you encouraged him to get some adequate sleep. So, he’s only just begun a system of making notes on sticky notes and sticking them to the wall each night. In the morning he’ll look back over them to pick up where he left off.

You know he’s made a breakthrough if he’s broken his routine to stay up late. So, you don’t push it, but you can tell he’s tired.

Well maybe not that tired.

“Nathan,” you gasp, shuddering under his tongue.

“Lay down,” he looks up at you over the rim of his glasses.

You don’t have to be told twice, though you might test him sometimes because you like when he throws you over his knee. But not tonight, you’re too desperate for him.

He kneels beside the mattress and peels off your tank top. Climbing on top of you, his midsection rests against your core – keeping you still. Which leaves his mouth level with your now bare breasts. He picks up where he left off and seals his mouth around your tender flesh. His beard tickles your skin, as his tongue teases your nipple lazily. You groan and try to buck up your hips for friction, but he won’t let you.

When he pulls off one breast, he makes a point to scrape his beard against you. He chuckles when you writhe.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ hate me,” Nathan states, kissing your nipple.

“I already hate you,” you grunt trying to wriggle out from under him.

“I know what we agreed-“

“No more working at night,” you say at the same time.

“But I’m on to something baby, I’m close.”

“I am too,” you buck your hips up again, hoping he’ll get the message. And he reads you loud and clear.

“If I let you come will you let me go back to work?”

You nod, “yes!”

“Yes what?” his brow cocks up high.

“Yes daddy.”

He grins slipping his hand down the front of your panties. Warm fingers tease your clit and your folds, warm mouth still all over your breasts. Your nails dig into his shoulders and the back of his neck. Practiced fingers bring you to the edge and toppling over quickly.

A quick kiss is pressed to your lips before he hops up, leaving you a sweaty mess on the bed. And he’s back at his computer desk clacking away.

“Nathan,” you call his name, still trying to catch your breath. You know he’s hard, he’s got to be. It makes you smile he’s ignoring his own pleasure and release because there’s an idea eating away at him. He’s always so meticulous and precise – all while remaining casual. Now he’s so driven, his one-track mind won’t let him think on anything else. “Can I take care of you?”

You want to see if you can get him to crack. If his goal was to give you an orgasm to get you to fall asleep that plan failed. You are buzzing and relaxed, but now you’re thinking about his cock.

Looking up at him, you watch. He’s still clacking away, but then he stops for a beat and his body stills. He gives one nod; if you’d blinked you would’ve missed it.

He keeps typing while you come around the front of the desk, it’s an awkward space but you do your best. His shorts show the evidence of his erection, and you’re quick to grasp him. He lets out a soft grunt but keeps typing. He’s never expressed this but it’s a fantasy he’s entertained.

You pull his shorts down while he works, and in the soft glow from the computer screen you see how he aches for you. Your prop yourself up on his thighs and take him into your mouth. He stops typing for a moment – only one. But he regains his composure. You don’t even have to look up at him to know he’s picked up on your little game.

But you know him, you know what it takes to bring him to the edge quickly. You know the ways to draw it out too. He’s trying his hardest to keep a straight face, but you can see that distinct vein in the middle of his forehead.

When you hollow your cheeks, that’s the end. His body stiffens and his hands fall from the keyboard going limp. He lets out a groan and starts to gasp looking down at you.

Composure ruined. Success.

He sees you smile around him, and he can’t help but smile back. He can’t be cocky with you because you’ll give it right back to him.

“Alright, I’ll let you get back to work,” you adjust him back in his shorts and come around to kiss him on the cheek. He captures your chin between his forefinger and thumb to pull you in for a kiss.

“You know you’re more important than all this,” he gestures wildly, “but I’ve got something here.”

You nod, you know.

“Get some sleep,” he tells you. And as soon as your head hits the pillow, you’re out.

The morning comes and you wake up alone. Which is typical. Knowing Nathan, he’s working out. He didn’t drink last night, but since it was a late night – he’s probably thinking over what he worked on the night before. He lets you sleep while he works out, but he’ll wake you for breakfast if you aren’t already awake.

Rifling through a drawer, you take a Henley of Nathan’s and pull it on.

You make the familiar path through this large place to his workout spot. You can hear him grunting before you see him and hear the blows land on the punching bag.

“Good morning!” he huffs, bouncing on his weight from foot to foot. “So, I was thinking about last night,” he says punching between words. His grey tank top is darker grey under his arms and on his chest from the sweat, he’s been here awhile.

You hum back in response, taking a seat on the leather seat of his workout equipment.

“I owe you something.” He keeps moving, and you unashamedly watch his tight ass move in his black gym shorts.

“What do you owe me?”

“Is that my shirt?” he stops, turning to look at you. His eyebrows raising up; he squints a little since his glasses are off. He starts to unravel the tape wrapped around his fists.

“It is,” you push up one of the sleeves that had fallen, suddenly it’s a little warm in this shirt. “What do you owe me?”

“A thank you,” he stands over you and pushes your shoulders back so you’re lying on the cushioned bench.

“For what?” you ask laying back, unsure of what he’s doing. Until you feel him push up the Henley on your hips and tug your panties down and off your legs. He’s kneeling in front of you, and he pushes your legs apart.

He says nothing as he buries his face between your legs, his mouth closing around your heat. His beard tickles your thighs and he moves your legs to drape over his sweaty shoulders. He eats like a man starved, and he doesn’t stop until you’ve come twice.

“You want breakfast?” he looks up at you when he’s finished. His beard dripping with your juices. He’s got a smug smile plastered to his face.

Silently you nod, trying to catch your breath.

He makes you breakfast; and spends the rest of the morning gently rubbing lotion between your thighs to ease the itch from the burn his beard left behind.

//

im working on a taglist, if you wold like to be in tagged in my future works please click HERE

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and according to google translate - barba ardeat means ‘the beard burns’ in latin...if it’s wrong well we all know how google translate isn’t always accurate

[lyssismagical]

64 and 3?

3 - “You’re cute when you’re worried.”

64 - “Did they hurt you?” 

  Nine days.

Peter had been missing for nine days.

No trace of him anywhere no matter how hard Tony and Harley tried. He was just gone.

And Harley is losing his mind.

“Harley, c’mon, let’s get you up to bed, alright? You can eat and sleep and then, in the morning, you can keep searching, okay? You can’t stop taking care of yourself just because-”

He doesn’t even bother peeling his eyes away from the screen in front of him, rolling with security footage, cutting off Pepper’s concern, “No. I need to finish going through the footage. I’ve got twelve more blocks of footage, about four dozen security cameras.”

“How long’s that going to take you?”

“I don’t know!” Harley knows he’s angrier than he should be. He’s irritated and flustered and desperate because his boyfriend is gone. He’s gone and Harley’s scared and the world feels like it’s ending. “I don’t know and I couldn’t care less! I’m going to go through the fucking footage no matter how long it takes me!”

Pepper’s face falls with a sigh, moving to sit down beside him. She’s got this sad smile on her face, sympathetic and pitying. “Harley, sweetheart, I know you want to help but combing through security footage that FRIDAY’s already scanned, isn’t doing any good.”

“What do you want me to do?” Harley demands, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I don’t know what you want from me! I can’t just go to bed like everything’s fine, Pepper. I can’t- I don’t want to-”

She’s there, hands gentle and easy on his back, guiding him into a hug when he breaks, tears curling down his cheeks and breath hitching. He’s not okay, he’s so miserable, he wants Peter home and in his arms and safe more than anything.

“I know you’re scared, Harley, I get it. I’ve been in this situation before with Tony, he’s gone missing plenty of times before, but I promise, we’re doing everything we can. You’re not doing any good by working yourself to death down here.”

Harley lets out a pitiful sob, wishing more than anything that Peter were the one holding him instead, that he could breathe in Peter’s cinnamon body wash or the vanilla shampoo he uses. He wishes that he could feel Peter’s warmth, arms always so strong and tight around him, shorter and lean and right.

“I want him home,” Harley says, incapable of stopping himself from the pleading desperation that leaks from his tone. “I want him home and safe and here and with me.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know you do, we all do. But right now, all we have to do is wait.”

* Harley spends the night in Peter’s bed where he’s been exiled until at least seven in the morning. FRIDAY’s watching him to make sure he doesn’t set foot in the lab or the office. He barely eats the food May offers, and eventually he can’t take the awkward small talk and locks himself in Peter’s room.

The bed still smells like Peter. Like cinnamon and vanilla and the vaguest hint of gunpowder and blood from the nights he drops into bed with his suit on after patrols. His blankets are all rumpled from the last time he slept in them, ten days ago, one of them on the floor, one pillow cover stained with what looks like blood on the underside.

It’s the closest thing Harley’s got to Peter.

He doesn’t sleep all night, curled up in Peter’s bed, alternating between crying and trying not to cry. He drifts off a few times, but never for long. He can’t stop thinking about Peter, wherever he may be, if he’s even alive.

Eventually, though, seven in the morning rolls around and he finally leaves Peter’s room, clutching one of Peter’s hoodies to his chest. It’s too small to fit him comfortably, Peter’s a decent half foot shorter and Harley’s shoulders are a lot broader, but he needs to be able to feel like Peter’s close, like he’s safe.

“Anything?” he asks as soon as he sees Tony, Pepper, and May in the kitchen.

They all look up, eyes sad and mouths set in firm lines, echoing expressions of misery.

May’s the one that speaks. “Nothing right now, honey. You want breakfast?”

“Coffee?” his voice is shaking and high. “I’m not hungry.”

“You didn’t eat last night-” Pepper starts but Tony shakes his head. A silent conversation passes through them and Harley assumes they’re arguing whether or not it’s worth it to try to make him eat breakfast.

Eventually, though, it goes quiet and May passes over a mug of coffee. Almost immediately, Harley has to put the mug down, breath hitching.

Peter’s Graduation Mug.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry-” May says, already reaching to take the mug back but Harley’s quick to grab it first, cradling it close to his chest almost protectively.

“It’s ‘kay. Thanks.”

Tony goes to say something, probably to excuse himself back to the lab, when a cellphone rings.

They all go fumbling for their phones, but it’s Harley’s.

“Hello?” His voice is too high, too broken like he’s expecting it to be the worst news.

“Harley?” It’s Peter. He sounds upset, hurt, tired more than anything. “I, uh, I escaped but I don’t know if they’re following me still. I found a payphone and this lady lent me the coins for a call. I just wanna come home, Harls, please- I- I don’t know where I am, but I- I-”

Harley sinks to the floor, phone cradled to his ear. “Did they hurt you? Are you okay? You’re not- You’re not dyin’ on me, are you?”

“I’m okay. Just get Fri to track the call and come get me please. I want to come home and take the world’s longest nap with you. Please, Harls.”

He waves at Tony, who’s hovering over him with the other two adults, and points at his phone, nodding when Tony mouths Peter?

“Of course, honey, I’ll find you, don’t you worry. I love you.”

“Location Found,” FRIDAY says, voice a comforting lilt. “Coordinates have been uploaded to GPS systems. Near Wilmington, Delaware.”

Harley lets out a pathetic sob of relief, drawing his knees up to his chest, phone pressing harder into his ear. “Give us like two hours, okay? And we’ll be there. Can you do two hours?”

“Okay.” Peter somehow manages to sound even more miserable, voice trembling. “I love you too.”

“I promise. Two hours tops.”

It’s hard to hang up the phone on Peter. Peter who’s scared and alone, two states over, probably hurt and tired and alone. But the moment he hangs up, he’s quick to jump into action, the faster he moves, the sooner he can get to Peter.

“I’m driving,” Pepper says, grabbing the keys from the counter before Harley can reach them.

“I need- I-”

May settles a hand on his shoulder, shaking her head. “He’s going to be fine, Harley, but you’re not in a good headspace to drive. Let Pepper drive.”

He’s still holding his phone, Peter’s sweater bunched up in one arm and mug balancing in one hand which Tony gently pries from his grip, and he pulls the sweater up to his face, breathing evenly to try to calm the erratic hammering of his heart.

May guides him forward and he lets her, goes willingly, until he’s being pushed into a seat, buckle clicking closed. He gets passenger somehow while May and Tony take the backseat.

By the time they’re leaving New York, Tony and May have both passed out, sleeping soundly for the first time in over a week. Pepper’s back is straight, face set in determination as she picks up the pace on the backroads.

Harley finally feels like he’s waking up. “He escaped on his own. Ran away.”

Pepper looks over briefly, offering a small smile. “Yeah, I’m not too surprised. I’m just scared for the day people don’t underestimate him.”

“I just wish this would stop happening… Somedays, I wish I could just tell him to hang up the suit and not look back, to stop putting his life in danger, to stay home and stay safe. I don’t know what I would do if I lost him.”

“Trust me, we all wish we could ask him the same thing. But the truth is, he wouldn’t listen to us. Spider-Man is the most important thing in the world to him, we can’t change his mind as much as we’d sometimes like to.”

* Pepper barely has the chance to slow down before Harley’s throwing himself out of the car.

“Peter!” he shouts, voice rough and hoarse from the lump in his throat.

His boyfriend is laying in the grassy hill behind the payphone he’d called from. He’s only wearing a pair of loose grey sweatpants, chest and feet bare. His hair is greasy and tousled, eyes only half-open, heels digging into the dirt.

He lifts his head, though, when Harley calls for him, and he offers a lazy smile.

Tripping over the sidewalk, Harley barely manages to make it to Peter, racing up to the hill and dropping to his knees at his boyfriend’s side.

Up close, Harley can really see the damage, though.

Cuts and bruises paint their way up Peter’s torso, covering him in every hue of the rainbow. There’s a deep gash by his temple that steadily bleeds down the side of his face. His wrist is cradled against his chest, arm wrapped around his stomach, one eye swollen nearly shut.

“Oh god,” Harley breathes, hands hovering uselessly between them. “I thought you said you were okay! I swear to god, Peter, I- We should call a Quinjet, get you to a doctor, we should’ve just brought Cho with us, made it easier. Are you sure you can last two hours in the car? What happened? Does it hurt? I-”

Peter lets out a laugh, tapering off into coughs at the end but still there and just as bright as ever. “You’re cute when you’re worried. I swear, I’m okay, Harley. Tired, sore, starving, but okay. Look, the worst of it’s already healing.”

It’s true. The gash on his head is slowly stitching its way together, wrist straightening out again. His healing will take care of the rest by the time they make it home anyway.

Harley tugs Peter into his arms, wary of the wounds, and peppers the safe parts of his face in kisses. “Thank god, don’t you dare do that to me again, I was worried sick about you!”

“I’m okay, Harley, really. You can relax. I’m safe.”

Finally, Harley feels like he can breathe, holding Peter in his arms, being able to kiss him and breathe him in and feel his warmth, instead of the sweater he’d been using to pretend. He doesn’t smell like vanilla and cinnamon anymore, more how he normally smells when he drops into bed after a patrol, but he’s still Peter. He’s still here. He’s still in Harley’s arms, where he’s meant to be.

“How about that nap, huh? We’ve got two hours in the car to catch up and then all the time in the world when we get home.”

Peter smiles, a little dopey and too happy for somebody who’d been held captive for nine days, but Harley would give anything to see that smile for the rest of his life. “Sounds perfect, Harls.”

“I love you,” Harley says because he doesn’t want to go another minute without making sure Peter knows.

“I love you more.”

Harley laughs, pressing a long kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead. “I seriously doubt that, but I’ll let you win this one.”

He’d be happy if Peter won every time as long as he gets to hear it.

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[vocalyunho]

| 𝟐𝟑:𝟏𝟔 |

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲.

80’s heartthrob Jeong Yunho, likes high waisted jeans, wears a black leather jacket everywhere he goes and owns a motorcycle he calls “babygirl” because he’s emotionally attached to it (doesn’t want to admit it though). He styles his hair the same way his dad did, because he’s his role model and likes only one specific type of cigarettes of which he smokes a lot, while going around and telling kids to “never smoke because once you start it, you can’t quit it”.

Almost all girls in town have a crush on him, but he only likes her. He thinks she’s the prettiest thing he’s seen and, call him cheesy but, he thinks her smile brightens up every room she enters. They have some classes together which are Yunho’s favourite because he gets to stare at her without her noticing. Whenever she raises her hand to talk, the pen he holds in his hand goes automatically between his teeth and his eyes narrow at the sight of her shoulders raising as she prepares to speak.

They have mutual friends too, so they hang out together frequently. Yunho would love it if it was only the two of them, but he could never complain that his friends were there too. One time, they went on this hill, a little outside of the town, to drink beer and smoke weed while stargazing and it was all perfect, until one of the guys suggested to visit the abandoned sanatorium because, apparently, it was ‘only a ten-minute walk away from where they were”. This sanatorium was said to be haunted and since the average age of the people at this party was 19 and the blood in their veins boiled (mostly due to the mixture of alcohol and weed), they all agreed to go.

They had only been 10 minutes there, looking around the dark hallways and even darker rooms, when a weird sound from the second floor they were in, reached their ears and their first instinct was to run for their damn lives.

They ran as far away from the sound as they could but didn’t realise they all went in different directions. Yunho and her had incidentally ran together because she held his hand in an attempt to feel less scared. However, they found themselves on the fourth floor, in a room all the way down another dark hall. She closed the door fast and rested her head against it while Yunho breathed heavily trying to catch his breath. The room was almost empty, only an old bed and something that looked like a hanging rail were in it. She didn’t know what to say until he broke the silence and suggested to peek at the hall and see if it was safe for them to leave quietly, but she refused. Instead, she told him they should wait for a bit to calm down and then they would think of something (Yunho wandered how she could be so sane after all this weed they had smoked...the room was spinning for him, the entire time he was running, he felt like throwing up and his dick was hard from the moment he saw her rolling a stick and placing it between her lips).

Five minutes had passed when he opened the door to check outside. She was behind him, gripping on his forearm so tightly it had started to hurt. The hall was silent, no human being on sight, but she pushed him inside before he could say anything. She looked at him with a worried face, still holding on his arm and Yunho realised she was afraid to death. “It’s okay”, he told her softly “let’s sit for a bit”.

They sat side by side on the little concrete mantle in front of the window, in complete silence. Yunho looked around trying to find the right words to comfort her with (he wasn’t good at it), until she took a shaky breath and rested her hand on his thigh. He looked at her...her face sparkled due to the moonlight coming from the window and her lips were red from all the biting she had done to them. Yunho didn’t know what the hand on his thigh meant neither how fast his mind was traveling, and for a moment...he forgot about everything, where they were, in what situation they were in, the relationship between them and just...kissed her.

Her eyes fluttered close and her body tilted towards Yunho. It was slow and soft and even if they were high in a haunted building, she still thought it was romantic. It took them a couple of seconds to get used to the new feeling of the other’s lips but then Yunho pushed himself off of the mantle and came in front of her -still seated- form, holding her by the underside of her thighs this time. They both breathed heavily against each other, but she tried to bring him even closer by wrapping her arms around his neck. Yunho pressed his body against her and, he wasn’t sure, but she might have dragged herself to the edge of the mantle, enough to feel Yunho’s bulge against her core. And she did, because at this point Yunho was painfully hard in his pants (the reason was probably a mixture of the weed, the fear and him being alone with her in a dark room). Her hand went on the button of his jeans “Yunho-”, she looked at him with furrowed brows and his hand rested on top of hers until he guided her to unbutton the jeans and unfasten his zipper. In a matter of seconds he was inside her, thrusting in a slow yet filling pace. Her back hit the old window every time and her voice came out in desperate moans that got mixed with Yunho’s groans. She hid her face in the crook of his neck, trying to suppress the noises she thought were embarrassing (though, Yunho would never find them embarrassing). When he tightened the hold on her thighs, she dug her nails on his back and Yunho went faster and deeper, and harder even on this uncomfortable position. A needy lip got trapped between her teeth and little entreaties echoed in the silent room until a harder thrust made the air in her lungs get trapped inside them and her body tremble frantically. Yunho held her hand and slowed down, thrusting as hard as before, until both of them were moaning messes and when he felt his climax getting closer, he pulled out and came on the grey wall with low grunts. Her fingers found the magic bud and circled it until stars filled her vision and Yunho swallowed the loud moan that threatened to leave her lips by kissing her as she came.

They confessed to each other that night, even though it was unnecessary after what happened and, little did they all know, that the weird sound that had scared them was only Jongho who thought it’d be fun to prank his friends.

[sinsatmidnight]

Cream

Pairing - Irene (Bae Joohyun) x Male Reader

Words - 2293

Sins - Smut, clothed sex, mutual masturbation

So it’s probably past Irene’s birthday already in all time zones, going by KST I’m about 13-14 hours late to post this during March 29, but a belated happy birthday to Bae Joohyun anyway! So I decided to write two works of her as a birthday special. The first is here, and the second is a female reader insert with a different plot that also ties in with the birthday theme, but that one will be up later as I rushed to finish at least one ASAP. I’m of course, still working on other works as well!

Birthday gifts. They’re one of the hardest things to find in the world. At least, they are if you care about the reaction of the person receiving it. And when that person is the love of your life, you care a lot. Of course, they’re hard enough to get for most people. When your girlfriend is a businesswoman rich enough to buy damn near anything she could possibly want, it just gets harder.

Two whole months before her birthday, you started looking for gifts. Weeks of trawling online shopping websites and apps gave you nothing. And so, you went out. Went into malls and shops and listened to recommendations from people selling shoes, dresses, gems and more. Didn’t find anything that felt right. About a week before a birthday, you finally settled on something. You would have to personally make the gift for her.

Which explains why you were in the kitchen baking a red velvet cake on the morning of your girlfriend’s birthday. You knew that her favourite type of cake was red velvet and you spent a lot of timing poring over online recipes to select what would hopefully be the best one. Will she like it? You certainly hope so.

You lived together but she was out working, so you had the house to yourself. You were done by lunch, so you spent some time after lunch getting some chores done, cleaning the house and such. And then you prepared dinner and packed it up for your girlfriend, Irene. She had earlier told you that she would be working late. And that is why you packed the cake in a box and bringing along with the food for dinner, dropped by her company to surprise her.

You eventually arrive at her company, navigating your way through the offices and workspaces. You find the rest of her entirely female team working outside her office. You know them well and have met them on many occasions. You gently knock a couple times on a desk. The four young women look up from their computers.

“Oh, you’re here for Irene? She’s in her office.”

“Sorry ladies, can I borrow her for about forty-five minutes? It’s her birthday, I baked her a cake and she hasn’t had dinner.”

The four of them shoo you towards Irene’s office. “Yeah, we know. Go, we won’t disturb you for a bit, don’t worry!”

“Thanks girls.”

You walk over to Irene’s office and knock on the door.

“Is that you Joy? Come in.” You hear your girlfriend’s voice, a little muffled by the door, mistaking you for one of her subordinates outside. You open the door and walk in, closing it shut behind you. You stand at the door, looking at Irene reading some sort of document with her back to you.

You’ve always wondered you have been lucky enough to have such a wonderful woman as your girlfriend. Irene turns heads. All heads. She’s not tall but knows how to make her legs look long and the word most people use to describe her face is ‘goddess’. Large eyes, fair skin, long sharp nose, long smooth dark hair. The fact that she’s a tough as nails businesswoman who’s very sweet in private only adds to her charm.

Irene’s dressed simply today, just a simple long-sleeved white shirt and short pink skirt plus heels of the same colour today. The skirt has a slit at the side that shows you more of those smooth thighs you enjoy caressing so much, a detail which you appreciate. But she’s gorgeous no matter what she wears, and even when she’s wearing nothing at all.

“Joy, do you have the- “

Irene’s voice stops short as she realises that her boyfriend has just walked in. Her mouth opens a little in surprise, but she recovers quickly and a smile graces those incredibly kissable red lips of hers.

“What are you doing here, baby?”

You raise the bag that contains the food you prepared for her. “Hi, bae. I brought dinner.” You call her “bae” as an affectionate nickname, but mostly because it’s a play on her surname of “Bae”. You’re the only person in the world she allows to call her that. And only in private.

Irene walks over to you and glances at the large box you’re carrying. “And that?”

“It’s cake, don’t tell me you forgot it’s your birthday today!”

“Oh, where did you buy it from? There’s no branding on the box.”

You grin and pass the box into Irene’s hands. “I didn’t buy it. I baked it this morning.” Irene’s face brightens. “You baked it?” She opens the box and looks inside. “And it’s red velvet cake too.” She doesn’t say anymore, but you can tell that she’s happy.

You bring the food over to a glass coffee table at a seating area that Irene uses when hosting guests in her office. Irene follows you and sits down on a red couch as you unpack all the food. She goes for the cake first though, taking a few bites of it. As she eats, you stand behind the couch and lean over, massaging her shoulders. Irene sighs in contentment.

“Long day?”

She nods as your fingers squeeze her shoulder muscles. You can feel her relaxing under your hands.

“What about you?”

“Just baking and cooking. A bit of this and that. Nothing too bad. Nothing compared to you, I’m sure.”

“Working in the house can be tiring too. The cake’s really good, by the way. But it’s missing a little something.”

“Like what?” Feedback was good, you could take it and make something better for her next time. Irene turns her head to the side, half-facing you. “I think it could use some cream.”

You furrow your brow at this. There was already a healthy amount of cream on the surface of the cake. “But there’s already-ah.” Irene chose that moment to have one of her hands reach out to one of your hands, guide it off her shoulder and bring it to her mouth. You were completely distracted and didn’t resist, barely noticing that it happened.

And then Irene starts to slide one of your fingers in and out of her warm and wet mouth, her tongue brushing against the underside of it every time it slides in. You watch for a good thirty seconds or so before she then turns to face you fully and stands up. There is a dark glint in her eyes. You know this look. You watch her undo the top three buttons of her shirt, giving you glimpses of the lacy white bra she’s wearing today.

Oh, you know what kind of cream she wants from you now. You can feel yourself start to harden down below.

Irene wordlessly reaches out with one hand, grabs your collar and pulls you in to smash her lips against yours. Her tongue pushes past any resistance from your lips, overpowering your tongue in moments. Her kiss is sweet; the taste of the red velvet cake you baked lingers on her tongue and in her mouth.

Still joined at the mouth, you climb over the couch, stepping on it as you make your way to be on the same side as Irene. Once there, one of your hands reflexively finds its way to a butt cheek and squeezes it while you wrap your other arm around her waist. Irene moans softly into your kiss. When you finally break the kiss, Irene and you stare into each other’s eyes for a moment. And then she wraps her arms around your neck, holding onto your shoulders, hugging you close and whispers into your ear.

“Let’s make this quick; I still need to have dinner and work after this.”

“The door’s not locked.” You try to pull away to go to the door and lock it but Irene holds you back.

“I don’t care. Now.”

You nod and Irene wraps her legs around your waist as you carry her over to a mostly empty table at the side of the room. You sit her down on it and her legs release their grip on your waist. One of your hands runs up along her legs and sneaks inside her skirt between her thighs.

As your fingers caress her smooth inner thighs, Irene has one of her hands massage the growing bulge in your pants for a bit before she unzips them and has her hand slip inside your pants. Your fingers reach the lacy fabric of the G-string thong she’s wearing, her fingers find purchase on the waistband of your underwear. Irene’s always loved wearing G-string underwear, they make her feel sexy and in her own words, “she loves the feeling of something between her ass cheeks”.

You slip your fingers around the thin barrier of the thong and into Irene’s slick pussy, she shivers and bites her lower lip. Her fingers respond in kind, and they pull down the cloth that kept your erection imprisoned. Irene starts to stroke your cock with one hand, gentle and slow for now. Your thumb gently teases Irene’s clitoris and your other hands journeys into her partially unbuttoned shirt, diving beneath the bra to find a hardened nipple. You roll it between two fingers even as another two fingers bend and wriggle down below.

Irene starts increasing the speed of her handjob, stroking ever faster, urged on by your hands. On your part, you start to piston your fingers into her dripping core as best as you can within the confines of her tight skirt. Irene can’t hold back and starts to moan louder; you frantically send your hand from her breast over to cover her mouth to muffle her. Her subordinates are working just outside; you prefer to keep it quiet.

After a good minute or so of muffled moaning into your hand, Irene uses her free hand to pull yours off her mouth. She stares at you with a dark lust clouding her face. “Fuck me.”

You scramble to oblige. Your fingers leave Irene’s pussy, drawing a soft mewl of desire from her, and they grab hold of her panties to pull them down her legs. Once they reach the ankles, Irene has one heeled foot slip out of them and she leaves the underwear dangling from the other ankle. She unclasps her skirt to loosen it and make it easier to hike it up her thighs to give your cock access to her wet cunt.

You pull Irene closer to you, sitting her on the edge of the table, spread her legs as widely as you possibly can with her skirt still on, and then you slide your cock inside of her. Irene’s tight, wet pussy is a familiar feeling, but it only gets better the more you’re inside her.

Your hips start to piston and your cock pounds as deep as you can manage into Irene’s pussy. One of Irene’s most sensitive spots is her neck, so you bury your face into her neck and take in the scent of her perfume. You taste the slight bit of sweat that has formed on her skin. Your licking and nibbling has Irene loudly groaning again so your mouth kisses its way up her neck until you find her lips and muffle her mouth with yours.

You can feel your climax approaching but Irene’s comes first as she suddenly goes still, and her nails threaten to tear your shirt as her fingers clench around your shoulders. The warm rush of Irene’s juices flowing around your cock combined with her pussy walls constricting your cock sends you over the edge and you also unload a few spurts into her without warning, mixing your cum with hers.

The two of you take a few moments to recover, each peppering the other with soft kisses all over the other’s skin as you do so. When you finally pull out, Irene slides herself off the edge of the table to get on her knees and starts to clean your cock by sucking it clean of your mixed cum.

“There’s not much cream here.” Irene pouts cutely after she finishes with your shaft.

You can only chuckle at that as you slip your spent cock back into your pants. “Happy birthday, Joohyun.”

Irene flashes you a wide smile as she gets back to her feet and slips her thong back on. “Thank you, for everything that you do, baby. You should go home and rest…” She leans and breathes into your ear. “…you also owe me more cream tonight, I’m not satisfied.”

You help Irene button her shirt and give her a peck on the cheek and whisper back. “I feed you cream for skincare and food nearly every night, when will you ever be satisfied?” You step back and wave goodbye to her. “Make sure you have your dinner before you go back to work, okay? I’ll see you at home tonight.”

You turn back for a last look at Irene as you reach the door and her lips mouth the word ‘Never’ very slyly at you. You laugh and push the door open. And walk straight into all four of Irene’s subordinates standing outside the room with very flush faces. You intuitively gather that they’ve been listening in.

“Good night everyone, don’t work too late tonight. I’ll be off now.” To spare both you and the ladies awkwardness, you quickly excuse yourself and walk hurriedly to the elevator.

Once you are alone in the elevator, your thoughts turn to home. Looks like you’ll be giving Irene an additional birthday gift of cream tonight. It turns out that you didn’t need to look very far to find the perfect birthday gift for your girlfriend.

[seijohsfairy]

Anonymous

Thank youuu sm for doing my request!, it was really good :DOKAY HOLD ON- imagine this ✨ step daddy iwaizumi is in the gym doing what normal people do at the gym. It was like his 5 minute break thing when he thought about his baby. He thought that oh she's probably in her college zoom class or something AND THAT MOTHER FUCKER ahm decided it would be funny to send her dick pics AND VIDEOS OF THEM DOING GOD KNOWS WHAT (he did this in the bathroom ofc) "make sure to keep the volume down😣 save yourself from embarrassment."Plz when she opened the text messages WHILE THE FUCKING CAMERA IS ON her face just goes 😦😳He comes back home to find he's cutie touching herself and crying in frustration because she can't come. And as the good daddy he is he help her and even make her squirt on her fav hello kitty bedsheets :)

𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙰𝚁𝙴

more stepdaddy/ honest iwa because i’ll never get enough of him (๑ १ ˑ̫ १) thank you for the thirst baby!! my brain is vibrating

tw (step)daddy hajime, ddlg-ish, masturbation, filming, size, praise & degradation

“Daddy, daddy, please,” is the first thing he hears when he finally gets back home, and for a split second his mind goes to walking in to find someone else fucking you. “Ah, ah, wanna cum. Please -hmh- make m-me cum, daddy, miss you — so much,” you sniffle, voice high pitched and so soft. But judging by the state of the living room, you clearly threw a little tantrum, so a smile slips on as he walks over to the bedroom.

Pillows having been tossed onto the floor in frustration, laptop abandoned on the table. You must notice his heavy footsteps, because suddenly the house grows very quiet, but the damage has been done. And it doesn’t take much to notice how you’re hidden under the blankets when he opens the door.

“Baby, daddy’s home. What are you doing in here?” he frowns when the lump under the blankets hesitates for a few seconds, then peeking out your head with a pout. It’s only half-hearted, you look so fucking cute right there after all. But still.

“I… I wasn’t doing anything. I just…” you trail off, blinking up at him. Hajime schools his features back into a neutral expression before walking over to the bed. You put your arms over the blanket to keep it in place, eyes widening. “W-wait, daddy. S’not fair, you were sending me things while I was in class. Just wanted to- make t-that weird feeling go away.” You look away when he urges your arms up, giving in so easily for daddy. It’s so cute, almost making him smile. He shouldn’t reward bad behaviour, but fuck, you’re stupidly sexy like this. Looking up at him with heated cheeks and tears in your eyes.

“Hmm, that weird feeling?” He peels the blanket down your body, revealing your tits and hardened nipples, as well as your glistening fingers and wet, fluttering pussy already ready for him. And he groans, because it’s exactly the thing he was imagining when he locked himself in the stall of the gym earlier, quickly fishing out his phone to film.

Sweat shining on the skin of his abs and thighs in the low light, hard cock beading precum that slowly runs down the side of his cock and makes it glisten. He bites the edge of his shirt harder as his tightened fist goes over the head of his cock, squeezing a bit harder to imagine your clenching cunny around his length. “Mhm, always— get me so fuckin’ hard, look how much daddy’s cock is drooling for you,” he grunts under his breath, making sure the video picks up the low tremble of his voice as well as the sounds of him stroking his fat cock to the thought of being home with his baby girl already.

“Wanna fuck that pretty pussy, make it mold to the shape of my cock again. You’d like that, right doll? You’d like daddy fucking you stupid on his big cock, making you forget your words?” He can already imagine how you’d mewl and cry when he gets his hands on you later, cock twitching in his hand when he squeezes again and more precum oozes out. Cock flushed red and veins protruded in both his needy cock and his arms and hands, he already knows what the sight of it all will do. “Stick your fingers in your mouth for me and suck them nice and good, imagine it’s daddy’s cock. M’gonna fuck you so good when I get back home.”

Cumming on his hand and exposed stomach and groaning your name under his breath. He had sent it not too long ago, giving only a quick warning before ignoring his phone for the rest of his workout. But your mom wouldn’t be home for the next few days, so all rules quickly go out the window for him when that’s the case.

“Oh, that weird feeling, hm?” It’s mean, he knows it too. Making you feel guilty for something he set you up for entirely, but alas, rules are rules. His cock already hard again now, twitching against his thigh as he bends down to take a seat on the edge of the bed and takes one of your pointed nipples into his mouth, groaning when you cry so pretty at his warm mouth. The wetness and his tongue rubbing over your sensitive nipple as one hand pinches and rolls the other is enough to have you closing your eyes, gently letting your hands find the collar of his shirt and holding it. Always so fucking precious.

His other hand moves in between your legs, tracing two fingers over the slit and grunting at the warm slick collecting on his fingers so easily. “You’ve been playing with yourself, baby girl, don’t lie.” Obviously, but it’s more fun making you say it, watching you look so embarrassed and guilty you’d do anything to make up. “It’s so wet down here. Tell daddy what you did.” At the order, you pull your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes widening a little as just one finger flicks up to your puffy clit, rubbing the underside of it over and over with swift taps that have your hips bucking. “This?”

“I— I,” you try, looking away from those green eyes to glance at your wall instead, hiding your guilty expression away into another pillow as you pout. “I know -hm, ah- y-you said no touching but I couldn’t focus on anything else, daddy.” Your body curves so easily into his touch when he slides his fingers back along your pussy to prod at the gushing hole with a hum.

“I’ve been watching your video for the past hour. Please don’t be mad.” You tremble when he instantly slides two fingers into your little cunt, thumb resting on your clit and rubbing it that way. It’s not too much yet, but with how long you’ve probably been trying on your own, he knows it won’t take much.

“You know only daddy’s allowed to touch between your legs though.” He curls his fingers into your walls until you cry out at the press of his fingers right into that one spongy spot, watching your expression flip between guilt and pleasure.

“M’sorry, daddy. I’m sorry. Couldn’t help it.” More tears and more embarrassment come when he chuckles at that, and you whine as you cling tighter to his collar.

“Such a bad girl, waiting with your pussy wet and empty for your daddy to come home on your bed next to your stuffies. Always turn into a nasty slut when you get to see some cock, hm?” He sighs, then pulls out his hand to make quick work of his pants. He shoves his boxers down along with it, watching you as you open your mouth to peek out a little, pink tongue at it, automatically opening your legs further at the simple sight of that fat cock glistening with precum for you. “What is it you want, baby?” he grabs onto the base of his cock, slapping it against your pussy with wet paps. “Ask for it.”

You moan, urging him closer when he gets situated in between your legs better, and shake your head side to side to get rid of your tears. “Wan’daddy to f-fuck me, wan—na cum,” you cry though, and as he climbs on top of you you’re quick to hide your face into the crook of his neck with a sob. “Please, daddy, hurts without you. Please make it feel good. Please, please, please, I’ll be good.”

“All this effort to get off and you couldn’t even cum on your own?” He places the tip of his cock between your legs, before grabbing onto your hips and angling them up. “Couldn’t -hng, had to have daddy’s fat cock in here?” He slowly pushes into your tiny slit, watching you struggle to take all of him sliding inside.

“Yes, yesyesyesyesyes. So- s-ohh, hng, big,” you babble against his skin, trying to wiggle your hips down on him faster, get filled faster. ‘Daddy, daddy,’ you breathe every few seconds.

“Slow down, greedy slut.” You’re clearly already out of it with how glazed your eyes are when you look at him. Hajime grunts at the sight, reaching one hand up to grab at your hair and hold you in place that way. Your hands on his shoulders go softer when you clench around him, tiny cunny stretching to take daddy’s fat cock inside entirely and throwing your head back with a whimper when he pushes in the last stretch at once.

All your little cries swallowed by his kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth to keep you quiet. When you cling so tight to him like you want to keep him inside forever, he grins, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear. “You can take it so much better than mom, right?”

“Yes, yes, please, I love daddy more, hmhng- o-only me.” Your eyes roll back when he pulls his hips back to slam in again, hips hitting yours and walls battered so well by the thick cock making it’s way into you, held in place like a little whore. “Wanna have daddy’s cock all to myself,” you cry, wrapping your trembling thighs around his legs to keep him close, breaths growing shallow. You’re so close. “Please, ah, ah, daddy.”

“It’s all yours, baby. Daddy’s cock belongs to this little cunt creaming around it. Now let me help you out, yeah?” And when his hand slides right back between your legs to circle your clit, it’s only a few well aimed thrusts before you’re coming all around him.

[drowningbydegrees]

Witcher Masterpost

You can find my AO3 here if that’s your thing, but here are links to all my Witcher creations.

Fic - One Shots

MUSIC PROMPT LIST FICS Prompt List

A Love Like This | G | 1,009 Words | No Warnings Apply Jaskier does nothing quietly. He is bright colors and endless conversation. He is music and theatrics. He unapologetically takes up space, bold and loud and impossible to ignore. Jaskier does nothing quietly.

Except for this.

Written for the Music Prompt 4. Dolce AO3 | Tumblr

Nothing But the Background Noise | T | 3,385 Words | No Warnings Apply Geralt has always been at home with silence. It’s a quality that lends itself well to the life of a witcher, this ability to find peace instead of loneliness in the quiet of his own company. But they spend that night in their room’s single bed and Geralt lies awake wondering when the warm press of Jaskier’s face tucked against his neck became such a welcome thing, when his fingers tangling in the bard’s hair got to be so instinctive. When did Jaskier’s get to be so wrapped up in his life as to leave Geralt dreading the absence?

In which Geralt realizes that sometimes you don't discover how much of a fixture something is in your life until you're forced to contemplate not having it.

Written for the Music Prompt 8. Incidental Music AO3 | Tumblr 

Call Me a Casualty | T | 1,670 Words | No Warnings Apply He has a plan.

Okay, admittedly calling it a plan is somewhat of an exaggeration. What Geralt has is an overwhelming sense of grief that floods the empty spaces left behind as his temper ebbs, and the horrifying realization that while it all hurts, it’s Jaskier’s departure that leaves his heart aching. What he has is an urgent need to set things right, and only a nebulous idea of how to do so. For starters though, he needs to catch up to Jaskier. That’s a straightforward task to set his mind to, and Geralt assumes he’ll figure out the rest on the road.Written for the Music Prompt 16. Mosso  AO3 | Tumblr

This Too Is Ours | E | 1,919 Words | No Warnings Apply

They fit like they were made for basking, tangled up with each other in the comfort of a warm bed while the snow falls outside He could go back to sleep, Jaskier thinks. It’s winter. He might be teaching, but it’s still a break of sorts. If he can’t sleep in now, then when can he?

Idly, he drags his palm down Geralt’s flank. There’s comfort in the familiar topography of the witcher’s body, and isn’t that a heady thought? Geralt is - has allowed himself to be - familiar territory. It seems a silly thing to be so giddy over, but Jaskier smiles as he nuzzles against the nape of Geralt’s neck.

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OTHER ONE SHOTS

Something To Hold Onto | T | 11,146 Words | No Warnings Apply

“Is it some kind of prank, do you think?” Jaskier asks, squinting at the noticeboard.

It’s littered with contracts, each more peculiar than the last. Missing people, haunted houses, someone convinced his sister is possessed because she’s acting strangely. The last is vague, giving no indication of what “strangely” even means. It would be weird for a sizable city like Novigrad, but it’s completely nonsensical in a village as small as Hillcrest, which is barely large enough to support an inn. The notices are all quite new, so normally Geralt would be tempted to write it off as someone being a menace. But the writing is different, the paper is different, all of it is different enough that it’s probably not one person.

As it turns out, there is no prank, leaving Geralt to try to fix things before whatever is wrong with Hillcrest consumes them all.

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We Break Like Waves | T | 3,469 Words | No Warnings Apply

For three days, they are happy. It matters less that Geralt struggles to put to words what Jaskier means to him when it’s all right there, neatly conveyed in the simple band wrapped around the bard’s finger. Jaskier holds his hand out to admire it for what must be the hundredth time, smiling as the candlelight catches facets of the solitary ruby set in gold.

What begins as a long overdue honeymoon ends, as things so often do in Geralt's life, in disaster.

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Noonwraiths and Other Woodland Forest Creatures | T | 3,716 Words | No Warnings Apply

Jaskier is used to his favorite customer, who is possibly some sort of cryptid, showing up at odd hours. What he's not used to is said customer showing up injured.

A modern AU featuring 24 hour diner server Jaskier and Geralt who is... still a witcher.

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If You Say It Again | T | 4,243 Words | No Warnings Apply

Geralt is what Jaskier cheerfully describes as "forever years old" when he discovers that okay, maybe he is just the littlest bit affected by… actually he’s not sure what one would call this. He’s not even sure if it’s specifically what was said or just the act of being spoken to like a person in a vulnerable moment. Either way, it’s more than a little unexpected, but that’s not actually the problem. After all, everyone finds themselves unraveled by something a little unorthodox now and again, and in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t really all that weird. 

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Left All the Lights Burning (But Nobody's Home) | M | 3,739 Words | No Warnings Apply Geralt is quiet, but he’s always quiet, so that really doesn’t mean much. When he can’t hear the witcher, Jaskier squints at the dark room, wishing his friend didn’t absolutely insist on wearing black all the time. “I don’t suppose you can do that magicky thing you do and break us out of here?”

No answer comes.

Written for Whumptober prompt 26. concussion AO3 | Tumblr

For the Space of a Heartbeat | T | 2,021 Words | No Warnings Apply As it turns out, falling into bed with your very best friend who you are privately very much in love with isn't nearly so nerve wracking as waking up with them the morning after. AO3 | Tumblr

Rosetta Stone | G | 1,408 Words | No Warnings Apply It’s not a seduction that the bard settles on, at least not in any traditional sense. There’s no lack of attraction (really, Jaskier is continuously baffled by how anyone could look at Geralt and not want him), but it’s background noise. He thinks of this more like finagling the two of them into some sort of harmony.

In which Jaskier realizes that while his affection for Geralt is almost certainly returned, they say it in entirely different ways, and takes it upon himself to translate.

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Untitled | G | 517 Words | No Warnings Apply Reply to the prompt:  What about when Geralt first realizes he's in love with Jaskier? Tumblr

Something is Bound to Give | T | 2,754 Words | No Warnings Apply For the space of a single breath Geralt concedes. He almost melts into Jaskier’s painstakingly careful touch, the soothing way the bard invites him to take refuge in someone else for a little while, but then Geralt’s mind catches up with the rest of him.  AO3 

Where You and I Collide | T | 1,388 Words | No Warnings Apply The words don’t pass his lips. At first Jaskier thinks this is too new, too fragile a thing that’s come into being between them. Then, he fears that perhaps they don’t mean the same thing by any of this, that perhaps he’s offered up his heart to someone who has no use for it. Based on a prompt asking for something about Jaskier and Geralt struggling with feelings. AO3 | Tumblr

Fill in the Blanks | G | 1,438 Words | No Warnings Apply “I want nothing.”

The thing is, it’s not a lie. Not really. It’s just that it’s an incomplete sentence.. AO3  | Tumblr

I’ll Wish Upon Embers | E | 9,128 Words | No Warnings Apply

“But allow me to raise this one point for your consideration.” There it is, accompanied by Jaskier’s expression scrunching in a way that Geralt is exasperated to realize he finds rather endearing. “Have you ever tried?” --- Geralt lets Jaskier talk him into sticking around for a village's midsummer festival. He assumes they're staying for Jaskier's benefit, but somewhere between the flower crowns and the bonfire, Geralt realizes it was a gift meant for him all along.

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Fic - Multi-part

Though I Try Not To | E | 16,120 Words | No Warnings Apply “You didn’t come back,” Geralt murmurs as if that somehow covers everything.

AO3

Even in the Dark I Know You | M | 8,196 Words | No Warnings Apply The thing is, he’s seen Geralt in a bad way. Even the witcher can’t always avoid injury in his line of work, and so Jaskier has plenty of practice patching him up. But this is new, and it makes something awful and anxious twist in Jaskier’s stomach.

A contract goes wrong leaving Geralt captive and stripped of most of his senses by the time Jaskier gets to him. Part one is based on the Geralt Whump Week day four prompt of betrayal and part two is based on the day five prompt of loneliness

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Even if it Hurts (Even if it Makes Me Bleed) | E | 25,074 Words | No Warnings Apply

Is that a pickup line? Maybe. It’s the worst one Geralt has ever heard in his very long life, but that isn’t the problem. The problem races, red hot down the length of his forearm, pooling uncomfortably around his soulmark. The scrawled out writing on the underside of his wrist had told Geralt the first thing his soulmate was going to say to him as soon as he could read. Silly as it had sounded, it’s even more ridiculous out loud.

To say Geralt is not a fan of destiny is a monumental understatement. Given the fact that the soul mark scrawled out on his wrist is the worst pickup line he's ever heard, he doesn't anticipate his soulmate being any more welcome than anything else that life has saddled him with. But the longer he spends with Jaskier, the harder his soulmate is to resist, and somewhere along the way Geralt knows he'll have to reckon with whether his feelings are manufactured by kismet or truly his own.

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Once Written in the Stars | E | 15,512 Words (WIP) | No Warnings Apply When Geralt accidentally trespasses on a fae forest, only the unexpected kindness of one of the forest's inhabitants saves him. Unfortunately, it also leaves him saddled with a travel companion who has never really met a human, let alone thought about how to play at being one. It goes about as well as you'd think. AO3 | Tumblr 1 | 2 | 3

Art Stuff

Geraskier Gif Set Set to Stray Italian Greyhound by Vienna Teng 

Geraskier Image Set  Set to Civil War by @sincerelyjoanna-blog-blog

Geraskier Watercolor Edit  

[boxoftheskyking]

Pick Up Every Piece, Part Three

This chapter is rated M, warning for PTSD, alcohol, war, probably a bunch of other stuff.

Wei Ying and the important gals in his life. 

(You know when you’re trying to do a style thing and then you’re like Maybe I just don’t Get Prose? this is one of those times.)

Part One, Part Two

--

Wei Ying is having a hard time breathing, but he doesn’t really mind. His face is shoved into his pillow and Wen Qing’s elbow is digging into the right side of his spine in a way that he thinks might bruise later. Just when he’s about to cry uncle, she lets up and sweeps the heels of her palms down to his waist, and it’s so good a few tears come out.

It’s a sunny Saturday afternoon with nowhere to be, and he’s just a body on a bed with his best friend, not a thought in the world.

“What is this one anyway?” she asks, pressing her thumb into a spot on the right side of his spine, just below where his waistband would be if he were wearing anything.

He turns his head and spits out the pillow. “Huh? Which?”

“This little one.” She rubs it again.

He thinks over his tattoos; there’s seven on his back, if he’s remembering right, scattered around in blacks and reds.

“Oh, the goat?”

“That’s a goat ?”

“Yeah.”

She rubs over it again. “From which angle is that supposed to be a goat?”

He props his chin up on his arm. “Have you not noticed it before?”

She squirts out some more lotion and starts working on his lower back. He doesn’t moan, because Wen Qing says she hates it when clients moan, and even though he’s not a client, he does try to be polite.

“I’ve never paid much attention to it.”

“Clearly you need to pay more attention to my ass.”

He tries to wiggle the ass in question, and she pinches him. Which is fair.

“Be nice. That’s my prison tattoo.”

“Your prison tattoo.”

“Yeah. I was in prison, so I had to get a prison tattoo.”

She scoffs. “You were in prison for like a year.”

He was, technically, in prison for a year. That’s what it says on his record. Right after leaving Gusu, on the road to Yiling, he got drunk and fought a cop, and a year was the best his brother’s influence could get him. As far as everyone knows, he served his time, annoyed the life out of hardened criminals, and went on his merry way.

Everything else that happened that year, that’s between him and Jin Guangyao and the dead.

“I can’t believe you got a stick and poke in prison.” Wen Qing is doing her judgy voice, which unfortunately always gets him hard. Well, harder. It’s some kind of automatic response—he never paid enough attention in the one psych class he took in college, so he doesn’t know the right word for it. At the moment it’s just uncomfortable because she’s got him pressed down into the mattress

“Lots of people get them,” he says, a little defensive. “I paid for it, too.”

“Do I want to know how?”

“Two weeks of my meat rations and a blow job.”

“Wei Ying.”

“What, the guy was cute.”

She sighs, judgmentally. “Why a goat?”

“He said that’s the only thing he knew how to draw.”

“Well he lied to you. You could’ve gotten an infection. On your ass.”

“He was very clean. Cleanest guy I ever sucked off behind a dryer, and that’s saying something.”

She snorts at him and then digs her knuckles into the meat of his ass, scooting down so she’s sitting on his legs. She’s just in her underwear; he can feel the soft insides of her thighs against his calves.

“So I don’t pay enough attention to your ass, huh?” she asks, pinching him again.

He hums.

“We could, you know, do more of that.” She sounds carefully disinterested, going to town on his glutes but not pushing in any other way.

He swallows. “Um. Maybe.” He’s blushing for some reason, but the pillows hide it.

“Cool. Turn over?”

This means the sex part is going to start, which is great since he’s been ready to go for the past half hour. The massage part is equally great, and he really needs it. He knows he’s the luckiest person in the entire world, because his best friend happened to have a massage and acupuncture certification as her fallback degree after he ruined her life. He’s doubly lucky that she still speaks to him, never mind has sex with him sometimes. Add in free massages and he’s basically won every lottery in the country.

He’s tried to return the favor, but she can get better from her coworkers, so he just pays her back in orgasms. Orgasms and journalistic brilliance, when he can manage it.

He turns over and she settles back over him, shifting his dick around so she’s comfortable, making him bite his lip almost bloody. She drives her knuckles in the front of his shoulders until he hisses.

“Are you doing the stretches I gave you?”

“Yeah. Sometimes.”

“So, only on the days that I remind you.”

He pouts. “Ow! Yes. Which is sometimes.”

She grinds her hips down on him so he chokes on his own spit. He tries to reach up to kiss her, suddenly very ready to move things along, but she leans over him and presses all her weight down on his shoulders. He tries to push her up, but he doesn’t have the core strength.

“Mean,” he whines. “Mean, mean, mean.”

“You like mean.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

She lets him up and grinds back down. “Hm. You really like mean.”

He catches her then, she lets him, and they lazily make out for a while. This is the best part about hooking up with his best friend. He’s not worried about being smooth or clever or impressive, he’s just enjoying the softness of her skin and her hips and the underside of her arms, the small but solid weight on top of him, her sharp teeth. Way back at the beginning—in college, when she was his kind-of advisor—he was always so bewildered that she was interested in him, always trying to do twelve things at once, to prove to her he was worth it, that he could be amazing. Calm down, kid, she’d laugh at him, pinning his arms over his head.

Now they just roll around, warm and comfortable in an angled patch of sunlight, heading vaguely towards sex.

“Hey,” she says, a little breathless as he sucks on her ear. “Can I sit on your face?”

“Fuck. Yes. Please.”

“Awesome.”

She crawls off him to take her underwear off. “Lan Ziyi never lets me sit on her face.”

Wei Ying laughs. “That’s what you get for dating a Lan.”

“We’re not dating . We’re just—hanging out.”

“Whatever. They’re all repressed.” He feels a flash of guilt. “Not repressed. Logical. It’s an illogical activity.”

“She’s good at other stuff.”

He doesn’t have to respond; she crawls up and settles on his chest, running her finger over his bottom lip. “Comfortable?” she asks.

He tugs her closer in response and sets to work. It’s one of his favorite activities, the overwhelm of it, being held down. He’s always trying to be steps ahead, to be good at things, to be vigilant, but when she’s riding his mouth and his chin and his tongue he forgets all of it and surrenders to the heat, the wet, the rhythm of her.

“Fuck, I’m gonna drown,” he mumbles against her.

“Huh?” she gasps, lifting herself up.

“I’m gonna drown.”

“What a way to go, though.” She smiles down at him, red-faced and panting, one hand against the wall, the other tugging at her nipple.

“Fuck yes.” He yanks her back down with a growl and loves the way her laugh gets broken by a groan.

“Can you scratch my back?” she asks. He reaches up and runs his nails lightly down her sides. “I mean hard. Can you scratch me hard?”

He reaches up her back as high as he can and rakes his nails down. She shudders on top of him.

“Thank you,” she gasps, and he blacks out for a moment.

He’s always had an unexplored thing for being thanked in bed. That one psych professor—or the doctors at the hospital that one time—would probably say something about his childhood, his desperate need for approval. In reality it probably has more to do with that one night in college, Lan Zhan pressed between him and the wall, panting “ Thank you, thank you ” into his ear.

Wen Qing slams her hand on the wall when she comes, sweet and hot over his lips. He imagines himself dripping with it, down his neck and his chest to his feet, soaking into his skin. She pulls away after a minute and shifts back down over him, kissing his whole face, his cheeks, licking him clean.

“Good?” he asks.

“Mmm,” is all she says, but it’s enough to make him preen a little.

She reaches over to his bedside drawer and grabs a condom, and he’s suddenly reminded of how painfully hard he is. After nearly an hour of ignoring it he’s certain he’ll pass out the second she touches him.

He doesn’t, but he does grab her hips and shut his eyes. When she sinks down on him—one smooth slide—his breath punches out and he surges up to hold onto her, to hold onto something. It’s fast and inelegant from there, loud and jerky and ragged and so incredibly good. She throws her head back when she comes again and he buries his face in her chest as he follows—a long, shaking, suspended moment.

After, he collapses back onto the pillows and she goes to the bathroom. The massage and the orgasm catch up with him and he’s nearly asleep by the time she comes back. She doesn’t leave, though, just pulls her underwear back on and curls around him. It’s got to be close to  five o’clock and they’re framed by the lowering sunlight, warm and golden.

“Sleep?” he mumbles. She shushes him and pulls up the blanket and he’s out.

A lake, a raft. Lotus flowers. Someone beside him, tapping his arm. A river, narrowing. Wind. Yanli talking behind him, saying . . . Trees by the riverbank, branches growing toward him, twisting, sharp fingernails inches from his skin. He’s standing in the mud. Alone. Not alone. Feet sunk into the mud, up to his ankles. Dry creek bed. Flies. A dozen people standing, frozen, staring at him. Eyes so wide, he can see the whites all the way around. Flies on their faces, crawling into their eyes. Darkness rising like a cloud, like fingers, grasping. He reaches out—

“Wei Ying!”

“— looked. I just looked. I just looked at them. I just looked .”

“Wei Ying! Stop, stop, Wei Ying.”

He throws himself off the bed, gasping, crouching against the wall, nails digging into his arms. His throat is aching, he’s been shouting.

“You’re okay,” Wen Qing says carefully. Her hands are held out to him like he’s a wild dog, something that could bite her.

“I’m okay,” he says, rough, wiping at his face.

“You’re back.”

“Yeah. Fuck.” He digs his fists into his eyes for a moment, pressing hard enough to see a starburst of light. “Fuck, fuck. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” It’s not, it’s really not, he can hear it in her voice.

He sits back on the bed and runs his fingers through his hair. Wen Qing wraps herself in the blanket, watching him.

“I’m okay.”

She nods.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No. No, it’s not that.” She looks away, blinks hard. “You were saying— You know, you were saying it again. Same thing.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I know. It’s not your fault.” She’s not looking at him, though, and where she holds onto the blanket her knuckles are white.

“Fuck,” he says again, like that can cover it, everything he owes her.

“It’s fine.” Her voice is tight. It always happens like this, his hurt doesn’t line up with hers, they’re not in unison. He covers one of her hands with his. She holds it, rubs her thumb over the back of it, where it’s rough and patchy. He’s not sure if it actually helps, feeling the scars, but it’s the best thing he has to say, Look, it already happened, it’s over.

She lets him go and goes into the bathroom. He flops down and holds a pillow over his face. It’s not as good a weight as her body, but it keeps him in one place and not breathing and it’s nice for a moment.

There was a time, in the direct aftermath of the war and the Bad Time, where he thought maybe they’d get back together. That maybe they had complementary damage, that their ripped out parts might fit and close up. But they hurt each other—unintentionally, but his shattered edges always cut her. Sometimes he lashes out in his sleep. And even when he doesn’t, it’s a chain reaction. He gets set off and reacts and it activates all the bad memories in her. It’s why she doesn’t spend the night anymore, why they never moved back in together after he got back from the hospital five years ago.

Five years. It should all be scar tissue by now. Nothing should be raw, pulsing, bleeding anymore.

What’s wrong with them, that they still bleed?

By the time she comes out he’s in his boxers and t-shirt again, fishing under the bed.

She sits down next to him, face wet and toweled dry, and tugs his comb through her hair. He pulls a half-empty bottle out from under the bed.

“You want?” He takes a sip from it.

“What’s that?”

“Bedroom whiskey.”

She raises her eyebrow. “To go with the desk whiskey and the couch whiskey?”

“And the bike whiskey, yes.” He gives her a salute. “Always be prepared.”

She rolls her eyes, but takes the bottle and drinks.

He stretches, twisting his spine. He tenses up so bad after a nightmare, it sucks when it happens after massage and sex. “You know,” he says. “There was a few weeks, back this summer, when I got sick anytime I drank. Like sick to my stomach, indigestion.”

“Probably had a bug.”

“Yeah. It freaked me out, though.” He takes another drink.

“Because you thought you’d have to quit?”

“No. ‘Cause I thought I didn’t like it anymore. Like listening to your favorite song and all of a sudden the singer’s off key. It was . . . unsettling. I didn’t really know what to do instead. It passed, though.”

“It’s gonna come bite you.”

“Someday, yeah.”

Her hair untangled, she gets up and goes to his closet. “Is my red sweater still here?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

She digs around. The right side of his closet is all hers—not a ton of clothes, just a collection of years of days like this.

“Plans?” he asks.

“I’m having dinner with Ziyi.”

“Aren’t you popular?” he teases.

“You should get out there. You know. Date around.”

He snorts and lays back down. “I’m not made for relationships.”

She stops digging through the closet and looks at him. “Wei Ying, you are tailor made for relationships. You were made in a lab, specifically, for a relationship.”

“If that was true I’d have more of them.”

“No. Your problem—”

“Oh, here we go.”

“Your problem is you’re so obsessed with being a partner, you never put any work into finding a partner. You just throw all this partner energy at people and they don’t know what to do with it.”

He throws his arm over his face.

“I’m right.” He can’t see her but he imagines she’s waving her finger at him like a grandma. “You just want to be dropped into a relationship three years in. You want to wake up with a spouse and kid and a mortgage payment due on Monday. You don’t want to do the awkward beginning stuff.”

He squints over at her. “I did it with you.”

She sighs. “A long time ago.”

“Yeah, but—”

“In the literal eighties , Wei Ying.”

He sighs. “You should wear the black sparkly thing.”

“Hmm.” She considers him like she might keep pushing, then lets it go. “The dress?” She pulls it out, holds it up thoughtfully. “Nah, it’s too cold. I don’t feel like wearing tights.”

She pulls on her jeans and the sweater, then twirls her hair up in a bun. He kind of wants to tell her to wear it down, or to ask if he can braid it. But it looks good like this, swept up, showing off her neck. It makes him want to kiss it, so it’s an effective style for a date.

“You look good,” he says. She smiles at him then, a real one, and things feel settled again. She gives him a kiss before she goes.

“Tomorrow night,” she says, pointing at him from the doorway. “I want that column and I want two new proposals for next week.”

“Sir yes sir.”

She snorts and goes. He takes another drink and then tucks the bottle back under the bed.

He goes out to his desk in the living room and pokes around at his column for a while—the beginning and the end are there, but he’s missing a connection in the middle. He’s rambling about cultivation again, potential civilian applications if the government ever allowed real scientists to study it. It’ll piss people off, particularly Jin Zixuan, but it’s his column and he’s used to it.

He accepts that he’s definitely stuck and goes to the kitchen to grab the phone. He’s old-fashioned, still not switched to cordless, so he hops up on the kitchen counter and twirls the cord as he listens to the ringer.

“ Hello! ” Yanli’s voice, cheerful and musical. “ Thank you for calling Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli! Oh! And little A-Ling! ” she laughs. “ We’re not available at the moment, but please leave a message with your phone number and we’ll be sure to call you back. Take care, we will speak to you soon! ”

He smiles and leans his head against the fridge.

“Hi Jiejie! I just wanted to hear your voice. A-Cheng went back to Yunmeng this week, so I’m all alone. Well, I’m not all alone, Wen Qing was just here. Do you remember when we all played that game—what was it? That card game. And you and Wen Qing just destroyed us. Jin Zixuan was so angry, it was so funny. How is A-Ling? Did he already read the books I sent him for his birthday? I’m sure he is a good reader with such a smart mama. Does he remember me? I know I haven’t visited . . . Well, I better go. Zixuan hates when I use up all the tape, I know. He’s so grumpy, your husband! That’s why he and A-Cheng get along so well. I’m all alone without you here.” He shuts his eyes, feels the cool of the fridge against his cheek. “Okay. I love you, Jiejie. Bye.”

He hops down and hangs up, contemplates a drink. Decides against it, which is some form of progress, probably.

He’s finally worked out the middle of the column when his buzzer goes. He blinks over at the window—somehow night fell, a while ago. The buzzer goes again, in rhythm. Bzzzzz bzt bzt bzt bzzzzzz.

“Yeah, yeah,” he yells, not that she can hear him. He doesn’t bother with the intercom, just buzzes her in and goes back to the computer. A-Qing slams the door open just as he’s triple-saving and digging around for a floppy to backup. He keeps everything saved in a couple of places now. He’s learned.

“Hey, kid,” he says.

She grunts at him and dumps her backpack on the ground, kicks off her shoes. The futon is more hers than his at this point, and she’s not shy about flopping down.

“Hungry?” he asks, tucking the backup of his backup into the hidden file on the bookshelf.

“I could eat.” Her voice sounds younger than she is. He’s not sure if it’s intentional, part of the act, or if she’ll just sound like a little kid her whole life.

“Want a shower?”

She sniffs at her armpit and scratches at her scalp. “Yeah, okay.”

She never asks for anything beyond the futon. When she stays with him, she never asks for food, for the shower, for an extra blanket or a sweatshirt. For the first month or so he never thought to offer anything until one night he was still working and she was asleep and her stomach growled so loudly he thought it was a dog. Since then he’s learned how to offer, to set things out in front of her to take if she wants.

He calls in their usual order and starts flipping through his stack of newspapers while she showers. He gets as many as he can from as far afield as will deliver to Yiling. He always reads the Gusu Herald first, old time’s sake. He makes a few notes on his steno pad, a couple stories that might lead somewhere interesting or might have a local angle. No one bothers to cover this far West, no one but him and Wen Qing, but there are a couple of national stories he might be able to work with.

A-Qing comes out in a pair of Wen Qing’s sweats and an old sweater of his, which is like a dress on her. He keeps a clean towel and something comfortable on the hamper in the bathroom every day, just in case. Her hair is wet and stringy around her face, she looks so little.

They ignore each other until the food comes. Sometimes she’s quiet and solitary, turning away from him and going to sleep. But sometimes, on a good day, after a little decompression time, she wants to talk.

“Whatcha writing about?” she asks around a mouthful of noodles.

“Mm. Not sure yet. Just finished my column for the week. About cultivation.”

“Again.”

He sticks out his tongue at her. “You want to read it?”

She doesn’t answer. He does this sometimes, pokes at her, tries to get her to admit she’s faking the blindness. She never really does. Six months ago, back at the beginning, he’d experimented with leaving the lights on, waiting for her to ask or turn them off herself, but she never did. It’s not that she doesn’t trust him. At least, he doesn’t think that’s it. She wouldn’t sleep in his apartment if she didn’t trust him. Probably.

There was one time he came stumbling out of his room after a nightmare, before he had bedroom whiskey, scrambling for a bottle and crying through the phantom pain in his arms and hands. She’d stood up and come over to him, keeping a wary distance but not scared.

“You look terrible,” she’d said. He’d snorted around his mouthful and gotten whiskey up his nose and choked and she’d laughed at him.

She has nightmares too, but they don’t bother each other too much. So the partial blindness or completely fake blindness or whatever it is ends up just another thing they don’t talk about.

Now he considers her as they eat. “You go to school this week?”

She shrugs. “A little bit. It’s boring. They keep me at the back, there’s nothing to do. Teacher Wang keeps saying they’re getting a classroom aide for me, when they have the budget. I’ll be gone before then.”

“Where will you go?”

She shrugs again. “Dunno. Nowhere. Not school.” She drops her empty takeout container on the coffee table and flops down on the futon, propping her feet up on the back. She grabs a pen from the table and starts spinning it through her fingers, deft and controlled, not looking at it. Times like this he remembers what a good pickpocket she is.

He cleans up and gets an orange and a knife from the kitchen.

“Does it help getting what you need?” he asks casually, slicing it. “Being blind, I mean.”

“Kind of.” He hands her an orange slice and she eats it thoughtfully, licking the juice off her fingers. “I’m old now.”

He snorts. She glares over at him.

“I am. When you’re a kid, a little kid, people give you stuff because they feel bad, because you’re small. Because you’re cute, or you’re pitiful. Nobody wants to give anything to a teenager. I look like a teenager now, I think.” She looks over at him.

“I guess. You’re still pretty small.”

“How old were you?”

“When I was on the street? Really small. I got adopted at like six, I think. My birthday’s made up, so I’ve never been sure.”

“I got adopted when I was six, too.”

He stops slicing. “You had a family?”

She nods. “It didn’t last.” He gives her another slice. “When you’re little, and they catch you, people will smack you around, but a teenager—people want to teach you a lesson. People want to give you a limp or something, a scar maybe. Set an example.”

His instinct is to ask Who? and then head out with a bat, but he stamps it down. He remembers the slaps, the kicks, the dogs. But he was tiny and smiley, and no one wanted him hurt badly, not really. They just wanted him gone.

“But being blind helps?” He hands her another orange slice. She sticks it in her mouth and smiles around the peel.

“Mm-hmm.” She chews. “For now. But I’m getting too old. I’ll have to get a baby or something.”

His knife slips. “Fucking—” He sticks his bleeding thumb in his mouth and points the knife at her. “Do not get a baby.”

She purses her lips. “It’s one of the best things you can do. People always give to a baby. Babies are a great distraction.”

“Yeah, but then you have to feed it and take care of it. Never mind getting —” he waves the thought away, too disturbing. “It’d be a wash. Babies are expensive.”

“Is that why you don’t have any? Too broke?”

“Ha ha.”

She scoots so her hair is hanging off the edge of the futon, kicking her feet up on the wall.

“Don’t digest upside down,” he scolds, sounding like Ms. Yu. “You’ll puke.” He goes to the bathroom for a band-aid.

“What if you could rent a baby? Like just for a couple hours? Do you think people do that?”

He pokes his head out of the bathroom. “You could just get a really convincing puppet.”

She laughs, loud and delighted. She’s missing a couple of back teeth, which he can only see when she actually laughs.

He straightens up the towels, the bottles she knocked over, and moves to put his comb away. “Do you want—” he clears his throat and goes to the door. “I could braid your hair. If you want.”

She stops laughing and looks at him.

“It won’t tangle, then. If you want.”

She considers him, then turns right-side up. “You know how to braid?”

“Yeah. It’s not hard.”

“Okay.” She plops down on the ground. He comes and settles behind her. It’s weird to be this close, suddenly, but she’s not tense or uncomfortable, picking at the fibers in his shitty old rug.

“Do you have a tie?” She holds up her wrist to show him the rubber band. “Okay, scootch up a bit.”

He starts combing her hair from the bottom, careful not to pull.

“It was my uncle who taught me. How to braid my jiejie’s hair.”

“You had an uncle?”

He hums. “Yeah. He adopted me. I guess technically his wife did too, but she wasn’t really like my auntie. I think maybe I called her Auntie when I was really little, but . . . I don’t know. I’ve got a bad memory.”

“My memory’s really good.” She says it seriously, like it’s an admission of something.

“Yeah, I bet.”

A silence settles, but not a bad one. He can feel her breathing where she’s leaning against his shins. It’s nice, alive. It reminds him oddly of when A-Ling was first born, the first night Yanli let him babysit by himself. The hours he spent humming little songs, rocking him, smelling his head, listening to his snuffles and squeaks, watching him dream. The warm weight against his chest. Like a fresh baked potato , he’d told Yanli, and she’d laughed.

Suddenly, quietly, she speaks. “I had a family.”

He waits, combs.

“I had two uncles. And a cat.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They adopted me when I was six.”

“Was it good? Having uncles?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He starts braiding, trying something complicated to make it last longer. He always liked people playing with his hair.

“They weren’t bullshitters. Sometimes the foster families are so full of it. They act like they’re going to keep you forever even when they know they’re not. I don’t like those. They’re worse than the children’s home, or the ones who just ignore you.”

He waits.

“They weren’t like that. Uncle Song always called me Little Shit.”

Wei Ying grins. “Suits you.”

“The cat was named Little Pig.” She runs her thumb over the corner of the coffee table where the wood’s worn down. “Uncle Xiao was blind.”

He pauses. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Is that how you learned?”

She shrugs. “I guess. He was good at everything. People would try to do stuff for him all the time, but he never needed help. Sometimes he’d let them, so they’d feel good. That’s what he told me. He said sometimes you have to let people help you, even if you don’t need it, because sometimes people need to help someone.”

“Sounds smart.”

“Yeah, he was smart. Uncle Song said he was too nice.”

“Ms. Yu used to say that about my uncle, too. She always said people were going to take advantage of him.”

She laughs. “That’s what Uncle Song would say.”

He undoes the braid and starts over.

“Did your uncle die in the war?” She asks it quietly, chewing on her fingernail.

“Yeah. My aunt, too. He worked in the government, and Qishan came to Yunmeng early on. You probably don’t remember it. We had a big— Well, it was our house but then a bunch of other buildings. Like a compound. Ms. Yu had a textile business, she worked out of Lotus Pier and a lot of workers lived there. And Wen Chao thought it would be a good base, so he— It was early, so they thought they could fight him off. Nobody knew how big the army was. I don’t know if you— Wen Chao was one of Wen Ruohan’s sons. He was a dick. I don’t know what they teach you about it in school.”

She shrugs. He tilts her head back for a better angle. Her eyes are closed.

“That’s what happened at our house, too.”

“Hmm?”

“The army wanted to take the house. They came at night. I think I was eight? It was a long time ago. My uncles said no. They said to leave us alone.”

He swallows. “Yeah.”

“The killed Uncle Xiao. They wanted Uncle Song to see. That’s what the guy said, the guy in charge. I could hear them from the doorway. And Uncle Song said no, and they shot him too. And then I went outside, and they pointed their guns at me.” She holds up her hand, fingers out like a gun. “But the guy in charge said no. He said, ‘It’s just a kid.’ And I didn’t look down at them on the ground. Uncle Song always said, ‘Just look where you’re going. When you’re scared just look straight where you’re going.’ So I didn’t look down. And they said, ‘Look, she can't see.’ They said, ‘The kid can’t see.’ and they let me just keep walking.”

Wei Ying closes his eyes, tight.

“I forgot Little Pig though. I should have taken her with me.”

He leans forward to press his forehead to the top of her hair, just lightly. She rubs her nose on her sleeve.

“That’s the secret to being blind, anyways.”

He swallows. “What is?”

“Just look where you’re going.” She holds her arm out again, pointing. “Look straight ahead, and don’t let your eyes touch anything.”

Don’t let your eyes touch anything. People in the creek bed, flies on faces.

He looks down at his wrist, the spot where one of the scars curves like a ragged half moon, like a melon with a bite out of it. His hands are shaking.

“Tie?” he says instead of anything else.

She pulls the rubber band off her wrist and hands it back to him. He ties off the braid and pats it. He can’t hug her, or anything like that, so he just pats her hair.

“Do you want an extra blanket?”

She stretches and gets up. “It’s not that cold.”

“Still.”

“Yeah, okay.”

He goes into his room for the blanket and sits down on the bed for a moment, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. His ribs itch, his lungs are tied up in rubber bands. He considers the bottle under the bed, but doesn’t reach for it.

She’s curled under her one blanket when he gets back. He thinks for a second about spreading the extra one over her, tucking it under her chin, but he doesn’t. He leaves it folded by her feet. She doesn’t say anything, just watches him.

“Do you want the light on?” he asks, standing by her feet.

She shakes her head.

“Okay.” He scratches his nose. “Good night, A-Qing.”

“Night, boss.”

It makes him smile, a little. He checks the door locks, pulls the curtains closed, turns off the lamp. The light from the kitchen reaches into the living room—it can barely be called a separate room, anyway. He goes to the kitchen and fills a glass with water, leaves it on the coffee table. Just in case. He watches her for a moment from the kitchen door, holding on to the light switch. She doesn’t say anything, and he starts to feel creepy, so he turns out the light and goes to bed. He lays on his back and looks up at the streetlights filtering in through the curtains and tries to think about nothing.

Part Four

[hockeytrashgoblin]

Hello here is an Auston one. Idk if you can tell but writing smut has been my coping mechanism of choice for quarantine. Also thought I should give some Auston love before my new Mitch series goes up. I promise I love Auston hes just so easy to make the bad guy.

---------------------------------------------------

What are your thoughts on tapes?" Auston asked out of the blue one day.

We were hanging out at his condo watching movies. Auston and I had been best friends for almost a year now so it was nothing to bring up weird or personal topics. We shared everything but this was a weird thing for me to talk about.

"I dunno. I've never really given them much thought."

"You know I mean sex tapes right?"

"Gee thank you captain obvious, couldn't get that on my own." I said sarcastically throwing a chip at his head.

"Alright I was just checking. Seems weird that you've never thought about it. You think about so much all the time."

"Yeah I don't know I guess I was never comfortable enough with anyone to even entertain the idea. What are your thoughts?"

"I think they're hot."

"How come?"

"Just the idea of having something so personal. Like something so private and intense to watch back whenever I want to. And I could remember exactly what was happening and exactly how it felt while I watch. Just catching a fleeting moment as a memory forever."

"How many of these things do you have casanova?" I teased bumping my thigh against him.

"I don't have any actually. Just want one I guess."

"Well I'm sure there are tons of girls who would love to be in a sex tape with the Auston Matthews."

"Yeah probably."

"Can't really blame em."

"Oh really? You one of them?" He asked winking making me blush and roll my eyes.

"Oh yes Aus, please let me be in your tape, I'm begging you." I said dramatically rolling to lay across his thighs with my hand over my forehead.

"You're an ass." He said laughing letting his hand fall on my hip so I was trapped on him.

"I get what you mean though. I horde memories in any way I can. I just never though of doing that on camera. Like what if it's not as hot as you think? What if you have a dumb sex face or something?"

"I'm deeply offended that you think I'd have an ugly sex face. Besides I wouldn't be watching me in the video. It would be more watching the girl take it. Like her reactions and faces are what I would want to watch. Who cares if I did even though I don't."

"Auston, you know you're gorgeous. Of course I don't seriously think you'd have an ugly sex face. Not that I thought about that before now. I'd be worried about it."

"I bet you look perfectly fine."

"Maybe."

"Nah you'd look so hot trying to catch your breath while taking dick, I'm sure of it."

"Oh yeah?" I asked feeling the whole energy of his room change.

"For sure babe. Squirming around, trying to find something to ground you while you get completely taken apart, stretched around a big dick. Fucking picture perfect (y/n)."

"Aus." I said quietly as he started rubbing his hand across my stomach applying a nice pressure when he just skirted the underside of my boob with his thumb. I closed my eyes as he continued.

"You're flexible I bet. Would look so good with your legs up on someone's shoulders while they pound into you."

"Mhm." I mumbled when he put his hand under my shirt. This might be going too far but I was too far gone to stop it.

"You like being full too so I bet you'd love being on top. You'd look so fucking gorgeous bouncing on cock baby. All tense legs, concentrated face, and bouncing tits right at eye level. I'd kill to see that." He had started running his hands over top of my bra adding and taking away pressure as he went. I let out a soft moan hoping he wouldn't catch it but I was not that lucky. "All your sounds too. Bet someone could get off just listening to your pretty moans like that."

"You that someone?" I asked teasing him once I'd found my voice again.

"I could be." He said quietly, as if he was afraid I'd spook if he talked any louder. I got up from where I was laying on him and crawled onto his lap being careful not to touch his crotch at all. I wrapped my arms around him and he grabbed my hips.

"Wanna find out?" I asked before taking his earlobe in my mouth to nibble on making him groan.

"Please." He said trying to bring my lips to his. They just barely brushed when I pulled back making him groan in annoyance. "I didn't take you for being patient enough in bed to tease."

"I'm really not. Just thought it'd be fun to make you squirm a little."

"Ass." He said with a smirk as he pulled me closer to him so I was sitting on his hard member. I moaned louder than before at the friction.

"So hard Aus."

"All because of you babe. All the thought of watching you fuck." He was guiding my movements on him groaning every once and a while. "Make a tape with me.."

"Auston!"

"What? That's why I brought it up. I want to make one with you." He gave me a deep kiss while I was still grinding myself on him. I got so lost in it that when we broke apart I didn't think at all.

"If you want to make one I guess we can."

"Baby really? You want to? Because I'll still fuck you, I won't just leave you wet and needy like this if you don't want to."

"Wow a gentleman."

"(Y/n) I'm serious. I want you so bad but I don't want to pressure you."

"Hey, I trust you. Let me give you this." I said giving him a kiss.

"Okay hang on a second." He flipped us over, gave me another kiss before getting off the bed and setting up a couple cameras in different angles.

"Aus, baby come here." I said when he was finished. I was kneeling on the bed and he came over to stand in front of me. I started with his shirt, slowly lifting it up and leaving kisses as I went. I left a hickey on his chest as I undid his pants and started pushing them and his boxers down together making me lick my lips.

"Like what you see baby?"

"I didn't expect you to be that big. You're so fucking gorgeous Aus." I brought him to my level to basically just shove my tongue in his mouth. Eventually he broke away and ripped the clothes off of me. His eyes and hands were everywhere.

"You look so much better than I imagined. God I'm gonna give it to you so good babygirl."

"Please give it to me Aus, please I need it." I begged as he come to lay on top of me. He kissed me again but it wasn't enough. I lifted my hips and tried to get friction against him.

"You want this dick don't you baby? Practically desperate for it already."

"I want it so bad. I don't need fingers I'm wet enough just get in me please."

"I dont want it to hurt."

"I want to feel you Auston. Even after this is done I want to feel it when I walk."

"Holy fuck. Okay, if you're sure?"

"I'm sure, love. Come on give it to me. Want your dick in me so bad. Destroy me Auston, please."

"You don't have to ask me twice." He said leaning down to kiss me. It was a wet, gross kiss but I loved it. He ran his fingers down my chest and I gasped breaking the kiss.

"Fucking pleeease. Stop making me wait."

"Love how you beg for it babygirl." He said sitting up between my legs while stroking himself. I tried to touch but he pinned my hands down with one of his while he still pumped himself over me. I whined and started squirming making him chuckle. "Be patient (y/n)."

"I caaaan't."

"You can and you will. You'll take what I give you when I give it to you."

"Then give it to me, what are you waiting for?"

"Just enjoying this." He said kissing up my neck.

"Wouldn't you rather enjoy the feeling of my tight, hot, wet pussy Aus?" I asked bringing his face to look me in my eyes.

"God don't look so innocent when you say that."

"I'm your good girl Auston. Fucking reward me."

"Good girls don't use language like that. Seems to me you're a bad girl. You know what bad girls get?"

"What?"

"They get fucking punished before they get rewarded."

I let out a shiver at his words and moaned a little. He smirked and ran his hands down my body gently before roughly turning me on my stomach. He ran his hands down from my shoulders to my ass where he squeezed and jiggled it a bit before letting a slap fall making me gasp.

"How many do you think you need to learn a lesson? 15? 20?"

"Yes."

"I asked two questions baby."

"You pick. You choose. Something please. Pretty please."

"Look at you. Begging to be punished too. Since you're begging you'll get 15. Count em for me darling."

I did as I was told and counted as Auston spanked me harder and harder as he went. I was dripping at the thought of Auston touching me like this, wanting me like this for so long. I had always wanted him and it was dizzying to know that he wanted me so bad that he wanted to film it so he can watch it back whenever he wants.

"Babe are you still with me?"

"Yeah, yeah sorry. I don't know what happened there." He turned me over and caressed my body kissing anywhere he could reach.

"Took your punishment so well (y/n)."

"Thank you Aus."

"Do you want to continue?"

"Auston Matthews if you don't put your dick inside me I'm actually going to lose my mind." That made him laugh as he leaned in to kiss me.

"Don't worry baby. You're gonna get it." He nipped at my bottom lip as he knelt between my legs. He grabbed his dick and started rubbing it along by folds making me whine.

"Please Aus, please, please, please."

"Shh you're okay, I've got you." He said soothingly as he started to push into me. "You're so wet babes. Who did that?"

"You did Auston. All you. The thought of you wanting me like I want you's got me all soaking wet for you baby."

"I've always wanted you. That's why I wanted to do this with you. Just so fucking hot." He put both my legs up on his shoulders effectively turning me into a pretzel. He gave a sharp thrust and I moaned loudly. He kept doing that at a quick pace keeping me moaning and whining as I got closer to finishing.

"Fuck Aus, I'm gonna cum."

"Yeah? Already? Shit baby that's so quick."

"God don't stop please." I pulled his body closer to mine before digging my fingers into his muscular butt. It worked as encouragement and he started pistoning into me.

"Fuck Auston Fuck!" I screamed letting myself cum all over his dick. I scratched his back making him hiss.

"I bet everyone in the building can hear you babygirl. You like everyone knowing who's making you feel this good?"

"Yeeesss." I hissed out calming down a bit.

"Think you can cum again baby? Be a good girl for me?"

"Yes. I can. Let me show you, I can do it."

"Okay baby show me."

"How do you want me, love?" I purred biting at his neck.

"Oh God. On your knees babe. Hands and knees." He pulled out of me making me whine and making him laugh.

"One second my needy baby, I'll be back in you in a minute."

I flipped over and leaned on my elbows spreading my legs and keeping ass up for Auston. I didn't know what I was expecting but it wasn't Auston slamming into me with no warning and giving me no time to catch my breath. I was a screaming, writhing mess of pleasure while he relentlessly fucked me. He kept smacking my ass. He stopped thrusting at one point and I whined.

"Auuustoon."

"Look at me baby."

I turned to look over my shoulder and barely registered that he was holding his phone. I started fucking myself on his cock while I looked at him.

"Please fuck me like that again Aus, please."

"You're so desperate for my cock huh baby?"

"Aus I need you to move, I'm close."

"I will if you keep your eyes on me. My good girl, close to coming for a second time for me."

"Please move Auston. I'm literally begging yo-oh holy fuck yes yes yes!" I screamed as he started pounding again.

"Can feel you tightening around me babes, you getting close?" I just let out a broken moan as a response making Auston grin. "C'mon (y/n) cum for me again."

He reached his hand between my legs and started rubbing hard. I came almost immediately clenching and yelling incoherently. I collapsed making Auston pull out while I caught my breath. While I did Auston was kissing my back and shoulders.

"You're so hot baby. So good for me."

"Wanna go again." I mumbled into the sheets.

"What baby?" He grunted as I pushed him over and climbed on top. I grabbed him by the base and lowered myself slowly onto him.

"You're not done so I'm not done." I said as our hips met and he was fully sheathed in me. He groaned loudly and dug his fingers so hard into my hips I was definitely going to have bruises in the morning. I convulsed a little and moaned at how much of a stretch it was.

"Fuck you feel so good."

"Gimme a minute please?"

"You okay?" He asked resting his forehead against mine to keep my focus and not move around.

"It's just a lot."

"Is it too much?"

"No I just thought I was stretched out enough that it wouldn't be this intense. I'm sorry just give me a second to adjust?"

"Of course baby." He kissed my forehead and just held me against him. "I'm surprised you're even trying to take it all like this. If it's too much tell me."

"I'm okay it's just a lot." I said raising a little and dropping back down. "Oh fuck that's good. You're gonna rearrange my guts Auston Matthews."

He helped me raise up and fall down at a good speed. I was quickly a mess again. Eventually I didn't need his help to keep rhythm and I was bouncing on his dick. He was roughly palming at my body anywhere and everywhere while he grunted, groaned, and growled in my ear.

"You gonna cum again babygirl? Three times for me?" I couldn't answer him. I had started to cry a little at how good it felt. I nodded at him and bounced slower, squeezing him when I went up. "Fuck I'm gonna cum soon baby. Especially if you keep doing that."

"Want your cum Aus. Fuck it into me."

Auston held me still and fucked up into me hard. I squealed and his pace faltered for a second.

"I'm so close baby." He started to fuck up again and I came with a choked out weak moan laying my head on his shoulder. As I was shaking through the rest of my orgasm Auston came in me. He rode out his high while holding me tight and kissing around my face. He lifted me a little to get his dick out of me. I whimpered a little at the loss. I didn't notice I was crying until he wiped a tear from my cheek. He laid me down and went to his bathroom to clean up. He brought me a wash cloth and cleaned me up too when he was done he slid my underwear back on and put one ogmf his sweaters on me. I was completely malleable and blissed out.

"You okay baby?" He asked coming back to the bed from somewhere in the room. He got back in and pulled me to sit on him. I completely melted into him and he wrapped both arms around me.

"M'okay."

"You sure sweetheart? You're still crying."

"It just felt so good Aus. That was incredible."

"Definitely the best sex I've ever had."

"Don't lie."

"Not lying babygirl. That was so far beyond anything I've done before this. I dont even know if we can classify those other times as sex."

"Shut up." I said blushing.

"And I've got it all captured. My first time with you will be with me forever."

"You'll get sick of it eventually."

"Never baby. I'm gonna watch that tape every night I'm away on the road."

"What about at home?"

"I'm hoping I was good enough for a repeat performance." He said with a smirk.

"Next time your gonna cum 3 times though. I want to see you cry from too much."

"We'll see baby."