#these are purely for me. indulge at your own risk

[the-kipsabian]

[thef1diary]

Baby Jr | Two

— Intimate Indulgence

Series Masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work.

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected sex (that’s expected at this point), oral, fingering, choking, degradative terms, spanking, praise kink go brr.

wc: 4k (pure smut btw, enjoy 🤭)

Carlos easily gave in to your pull by falling forward, his hands finding your waist and giving a little squeeze while his foot kicked the door shut behind him. He pulled you closer, your lips lightly brushing his for a moment in experimentation before pressing together with more confidence.

Your hands trailed up into his hair finding a few strands still damp from his shower. You smiled against his lips, knowing that he stopped by his own hotel room before coming to yours and acting as if he had nowhere else to go.

His fingertips danced underneath the hem of your shirt, coming in contact with your bare supple skin. Your head tilted back once he gave you a chance to breathe but the trail of kisses he began leaving down your neck stole your breath away again.

Your skin lit ablaze with every touch he provided after depriving you for what felt like ages. The little friendly touches here and there every day for the last couple of months frustrated you endlessly.

You almost wanted to scream at him, tell him to get on with it but you couldn’t, no, not when he was murmuring compliments in your ear, calling you a good girl for being so responsive.

“You couldn’t have come a few minutes earlier? I just put my clothes on,” you couldn’t help but murmur, earning a low chuckle in response with a small nip on your shoulder in retaliation.

“I’ll help you take it all off,” he spoke against your skin, feeling your pulse quicken underneath his lips.

Your hands roamed his body, feeling every ridge of muscle you could reach on his back that you had been shamelessly ogling earlier. Right underneath your fingertips, barely just grazing the skin hidden beneath his shirt with your nails, you earned a low groan from him.

He squeezed your hips again as an indication before slightly picking up the speed of his actions. Pressing a seemingly innocent peck to his lips, he used that moment to reach lower to rest his hands below your ass before picking you up, earning a gasp from you. Further using that gasp as an invitation to deepen the kiss, Carlos slightly pulled on your bottom lip, barely teasing it with his teeth before letting go.

You quickly wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together behind as he began to walk further inside the room.

His palms now resting just a few centimeters shy away from your ass to hold you up—which he could’ve easily done with one hand—he grazed his thumb back and forth, bunching up your shorts even higher as he left no space between your bodies.

Your lips trailed down his neck, sucking a tad more harshly before peppering the spot in light kisses, knowing that it’ll turn into a noticeable mark later on.

In the heat of the moment, briefly forgetting the risk for the pleasure, neither of you thought of the consequences that may arise from visible marks.

Carlos sat on the edge of the bed, causing you to meet his hips firmly as you straddled him. He pulled your hips even closer, urging you to grind on him while claiming your lips once again.

You gasped against his mouth as he lifted his own hips to catch you by surprise, “fuck me, please,” you muttered.

Carlos was tempted to take off your shirt because a slight movement from you shifted the neckline, revealing a peek of your shoulder. He was quick to place his lips against the bare skin.

Once again, his hands trailed beneath your shirt and pulled it up further to take it off. “As you wish.”

He threw it aside, not giving the item of clothing any thought as his eyes swept over your nude upper body. He put one hand on your lower back, and you shuddered, perhaps from the warmth of his fingers or from his encouragement to keep moving your hips against his.

Lost in the pleasure pulsing throughout your body, a gasp left your mouth when you clenched your thighs because his other hand rested on the base of your throat.

Sliding his palm down the front of your body, he barely grazed over your nipples, taking an extra moment to tease them, causing a whine to leave your throat. “Carlos,” you cried, tilting your head back while your eyes closed in frustration.

The moment he turned you over and placed you on the bed, you believed that he had finally shown pity for your neediness. Kneeling over you, he single handedly removed his shirt, before moving on to his belt. You sat up, planting a trail of filthy kisses down his chest as your fingers replaced his on his belt because you were itching to do it for him.

“You’ve been teasing me for ages, cariño,” he reasoned, as if to justify why he hasn’t nearly given you enough attention just yet.

“Me? You’re the one that kept finding excuses to talk to me, to touch me.” You draw him closer by pulling on the band of his pants, enabling him to lean over you without placing any weight against you since he braced himself with his forearm positioned next to your head.

“Can I?” He asks while glancing down at your shorts for a moment. His fingers follow his gaze, trailing down your chest to your stomach, resting on the hem of your shorts.

You inhale deeply while nodding but he shook his head, almost disappointed, “I need words.”

A whimper threatened to leave your mouth as you saw him move his hands to pull away. You quickly placed your hands over his, pulling them back onto your waist.

Finding your words, you consented, “touch me all you want, Carlos, please, the winner gets what he wants.”

He smirked, reminded of his win that led to this need to act on his desires. He hooked his fingers on the band of your shorts, finally dragging them down before tossing the piece of cloth away like he did to your shirt.

Moving down your body, he laid between your legs, facing you after he pulled them apart further. Despite still having a flimsy material covering your pussy, he could still see the outline of your lips due to how your wetness caused your panties to stick to your pussy.

“A few kisses and you’re already soaked?” He lightly chuckled at your futile attempt of raising your hips when one of his fingers slid down over your panties, grazing your protruding covered clit.

“All for you,” you responded, trying to coax him into touching you again with nothing but the truth.

He lowered himself and you could feel his breath fanning against you, then he slowly placed open mouth kisses on your inner thighs. Your head dropped back, resting on the bed with your eyes fluttering shut as he neared the spot you wanted him the most.

His hands rested on your thighs to keep your legs apart while he continued to tease you.

“I want to taste you.”

His words caused you to tilt your head to look at him, your gaze instantly connecting with his since he was already looking at you.

You knew right then that you would do anything he asked if he kept looking at you with those round, dark brown eyes.

Nodding, you muttered, “please.” You raised your hips as he hooked his fingers in the flimsy material, quickly sliding it down and removing it completely.

Reaching a hand past your head, he grabbed a pillow before shifting further down the bed until his knees rested on the floor and he was kneeling in front of your spread legs. He left the pillow beside you as he wrapped his hands around your thighs, earning a startled gasp from you when he pulled you closer to the edge, towards his warm mouth.

“Up,” he ordered, placing the pillow beneath your ass to raise your hips higher.

You watched his movements carefully, biting your lip in anticipation as he brought two of his fingers to his mouth, licking them before placing it on your outer lips. He pulled the fingers outwards, spreading you open for him and watching as you desperately clench on nothing but air.

Sticking out the tip of his tongue, he lightly pressed it against your protruding clit, earning a sharp inhale from you. Flattening his tongue, he dipped it between your folds to gather a bit of your wetness before dragging it upwards, stimulating your clit for the first time that night.

Focusing solely on your clit for now, he softly moved his tongue in a circular motion, pausing and pulling away to see more creamy wetness gathering between your lips, all on display for him as his fingers still held you spread apart.

Pursing his lips, he gathered a bit of saliva in his mouth before dropping it onto your clit, watching as it slowly slid down in between your lips adding to the slick already formed.

Lapping at your pussy and giving a few experimental licks first to gather your taste in his mouth, he moaned against your folds, sending a shiver up your spine at the added vibration.

“Mm, you taste so sweet.” He parted away from you for now, connected only by a string of saliva from your pussy to his mouth which broke away when he licked his lips.

His fingers followed the trail of his spit, slipping his fingers into your hole one by one until he had worked three fingers down to the last knuckle. You arched your back at the sudden added sensations.

“S’good for me,” he commented, watching your eyes roll back in pleasure from both his fingers and his words praising you.

While increasing the pace of his fingers moving inside you, he peppered kisses all over your inner thighs, catching you by surprise when he nipped at your skin.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, dampening the sound of your moans to your own ears but it was like music to his.

He grabbed your right leg and tossed it over his shoulder, preventing you from fully closing your legs and giving him the ability to touch you in any way he pleased.

His skilled fingers brushed against your insides in such a pleasurable way that almost clouded your vision with stars. He was able to reach deeply in places that you never could with your own fingers.

Your thigh twitches while your palms close around the sheets above your head as you near your release. “Carlos,” you murmur, his name becoming one of the very few things you remembered.

“Gonna cum for me?” He asked, placing his mouth over your clit, sucking harshly that made you raise your hips while a cry left your lips.

You weren’t able to form a word much less a sentence but he could tell by the pitch of your moans that you just needed something more to push you over the edge.

Sticking out the tip of his tongue, he repeatedly flicked your clit until you were writhing in pleasure.

“Go on, cum all over my fingers,” he permitted, curving his finger in the right spot that had you obeying him in seconds.

He continued thrusting his fingers in and out as you coated them with your cum, slowing down just a bit to prolong your release. Carlos greedily lapped up every drop that left you, enamored and addicted to your taste.

Pulling his fingers out, he licked your pussy from your entrance up to your clit once more, earning a cry releasing from your lips. “Ah- fuck, baby.”

He moved away only when you began squirming, that too with the corners of his lips turned up in a smirk.

Breathing heavily, you looked at him, noticing his lips and chin glistening with your slick but your eyes widened once he placed those same fingers in his mouth that were just in you moments ago, sucking them clean.

Your pussy still pulsed at his gesture, feeling a tad too empty. You knew you needed more, especially since you could see his bulge straining behind his boxers which quickly turned your bubble of arousal into desperation. You didn’t notice when he discarded his pants, adding it to the growing pile of clothes but you were glad he did.

Carlos placed lingering kisses trailing up your body. On your hips and stomach, then flattening his tongue and dragging up until he reached your chest. Placing two firm lingering kisses on your nipples that had you threading your fingers through his hair at the suction of his lips, he faced you while holding himself above your body. With his gaze still on your chest, he lightly blew air on them, hardening your already pert nipples at the sensation.

“Fuck, you’re so sensitive, so responsive.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him lower until he rested his weight on you.

“That is such a bad habit of yours,” he murmured, his gaze now focusing on your lips.

“What is?” You asked innocently, blinking a few times in quick succession as your hand traveled to the nape of his neck.

“This,” he brings his hand to your chin, fingers pulling your lip free from being bitten between your teeth. Then he added, “it makes me want to kiss you every time you do it.”

Tilting your head closer, your gaze connected with his for a moment before you looked down at his soft lips, licking your own before responding, “maybe you should.”

He took your words as an invitation to claim your lips with his own, enveloping your lower lip in the heat of his mouth. Your hands trailed upwards into his hair again, lightly pulling at it as you responded with just as much force and passion.

His fingers brushed against your cheek, moving lower to grip your chin with his thumb and index finger, asserting dominance as he guided you through the kiss.

Moving even lower, his hand followed the curve of your throat as his palm rested on the base while his fingers pressed into the sides, earning a hum from your mouth.

This time, as you grazed your nails down his back there wasn’t any barrier of clothing in between. You dragged your hands as low as you could, almost able to touch the hem of his boxers that you desperately wanted to remove.

“Off,” you spoke, frustration lacing your tone.

He breathed in the lingering scent of your shower gel now mixed with a layer of sweat in the crook of your neck. “Then take it off, cariño.”

Loosening your legs wrapped around his waist, you began using your feet to shove the thin layer of fabric down that was keeping a part of his body that you couldn’t wait to touch and feel inside you hidden away.

You had gotten the band of his boxers down to his thighs, and he moved away to slide the material off his body before quickly aligning his body against yours again.

You mumbled against his lips but he couldn’t make out the words, so he moved an inch away to allow you to speak while his hand returned to where it had found a spot on your throat. “What was that?”

“Fuck me, Carlos, fuck me good,” you repeated, earning a small grin from him while his grip tightened on your throat.

“On your hands and knees,” he commanded, releasing his grip.

You turned over, arching your back while looking over your shoulder to entice him, earning a slap on your ass in return. You moaned, a satisfying smile painting on your lips. Shuffling onto your knees while reaching your arms outwards that brought your upper body closer to the mattress, you stuck your ass in the air.

“Do that again,” you muttered but you furrowed your brows when the hit never came. Looking back again, you saw a stern expression overtaking his usual smirk. He placed his palms on your cheeks, spreading them for a moment but before it could turn into anything more, he dropped his hands to his sides.

“Are you ordering me around now?” He asked with a raised brow, and your lips parted as you realized your mistake.

Slowly shaking your head in denial and your hips to the side to convince him, you tried again, “please do that again.”

He listened to your pleas, slapping your ass once again on the same spot as earlier before taking you by surprise and bringing his palm down on your other cheek. “Good girl, don’t forget your manners, darling.”

Kneeling on the bed behind you, Carlos’ body heat engulfed you, providing a brief blanket of comfort over you completely contrasting your thoughts and anticipation, knowing that he wouldn’t bestow any mercy upon you while he fucked your pussy.

Running his fingers down your slit, he spread your folds apart before sliding his hardened cock to replace his fingers, coating it in your wetness. Your balance faltered for a moment causing you to fall forward when his tip touched your clit, sending a burst of butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“Look at that, you’re already trying to clench around me, baby,” he muttered, watching your folds flutter around his cock as it tried to coax it inside you.

Inching backwards, you rubbed your ass against his cock, earning a low groan from him. “Carlos, if you don’t fuck me right now, I will scream,” you half heartedly threatened but he just chuckled.

“You will still scream even when I fuck you.”

“Then prove it,” you shot back.

Without a warning, Carlos slid his cock in you while one of his hands rested on your hip to prevent you from falling forward again. You muttered a curse, dragging out the last syllable as your eyes rolled back at the initial feeling.

His other hand trailed up your body, leaving featherlight touches on the length of your back. Wrapping his fingers around your hair, he pulled until your head tilted up and your mouth dropped open in a silent moan. He could only wish he had chosen a better position to see your reaction, but he imagined it to the best of his ability aided by the sweet sounds you let out.

“You have to stop clenching so hard, cariño, I can’t move,” he muttered in your ear, pressing light kisses on the crook of your neck, earning an audible exhale from you.

When he moved to continue sliding inside, your eyes widened, “you’re not fully in yet?”

He let out a sound in denial, “a little more.” Once fully settled inside, he paused, breathing out while his eyes were squeezed shut, “you feel so good, such a perfect, tight cunt,” he mumbled, and the praise had you clenching around him involuntarily.

“Please move,” you spoke while lightly pushing back, moaning as you felt him a tad deeper even if it was for a brief moment. He pulled back, leaving the warmth of your cunt and a whimper left your mouth as you only felt his tip remaining inside, mouth dropping open once he thrusted forward; this time with more force.

His fingers pressed into your hips and you couldn’t care less even after knowing that you would likely see his fingerprints marked onto your skin the next morning. Releasing his grip on your hair, he settled on grasping onto your shoulder to guide his thrusts at a steady pace.

“Go on, tell everyone on the floor who’s fucking you senseless.” He spat, only then making you realize the volume of the moans leaving your mouth, echoing throughout the hotel room along with the sound of skin slapping on skin. It was lewd, but you couldn’t help but arch your back further as you began to lose yourself within the pleasure.

He chuckled once you covered your mouth with your hands in an attempt to muffle your moans, your balance stumbling as your weight was now only held up by one arm. “No? You don’t want to tell them what a fucking slut you are for me? How easy it is to get your pussy soaking wet.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeated, unable to keep your hand on your mouth as you fisted the sheets in your palms. Feeling you clench around him over and over again, he knew you were getting close to your release.

Pulling out of you for a quick second, that still earned a cry escaping past your lips, he flipped you onto your back and thrusted in your pussy again. Now that you were face to face, he couldn’t waver his gaze away from your expressions.

Your eyes fluttered shut once he hiked up your leg on his waist, able to thrust deeper. Holding onto his shoulders to ground yourself, he moaned as he felt your nails digging into his skin.

“Please,” you mumbled, feeling so close that you felt like you were going to explode with frustration if he stopped. Fortunately, he continued the brutal pace of his thrusts and placed his thumb on your clit, creating small circular motions that had you crying out loud.

It felt like you had melted into the bed once your orgasm washed over you. He leaned closer, allowing you to wrap your arms around him while he continued fucking into you to chase his own release.

With your lips grazing his ear, your next words sent him over the edge, “please, Carlos, cum in me.”

He groaned as he came, attempting to muffle it as much as he could into the crook of your neck. A blurry haze clouded your vision and only when the tear fell, you had realized that you had cried in pleasure while chasing the feeling of your high, wanting it to last as long as possible.

You felt his cum painting your insides, unintentionally clenching that caused Carlos to let out another groan. “Do that again and I’ll never pull out,” he mumbled, only half joking since your cunt’s warmth was too inviting.

Wrapping your other leg around his waist to keep him inside you for a little longer, you responded, “that doesn’t sound too bad.”

He lifted his head, watching your tired out expression, the activities of the day finally catching up to you. He pressed a kiss against your cheek after wiping away your tears, moving on to your forehead and then claimed your lips with his.

He licked into your mouth, earning a guttural groan from you. Your legs had fallen to the side, not having enough strength to hold them up any longer.

Hissing when he pulled out, you let out a sharp gasp as he lightly spread your pussy to watch his cum mixed with yours leak out and stain the sheets underneath. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he muttered, mainly to himself as he gathered your mixed cum onto his fingers.

Your mouth dropped open as he brought his coated fingers near your mouth, sticking out your tongue to greedily suck them clean. He pressed another kiss on your cheek in appreciation, “such a good girl.”

Then, his lips grazed your ear, “I’ll go grab a towel.”

Only leaving the bed once you nodded, he quickly entered the bathroom and smiled once he saw his reflection in the mirror. His neck was covered in marks and his shoulders were covered in scratches left behind by your nails. Although he didn’t check, he knew that his back would’ve been in the same state.

Quickly returning to you, he cleaned you up and tossed the cum stained cloth on the floor among the other pieces of your clothing. You had a sleepy smile on your face during the entire process, mumbling a “congratulations on the win,” once he was hovering over you again.

“Thank you, cariño, I hope there will be many more to come.” Placing one last lingering kiss to your lips, he shuffled off the bed and began redressing himself.

You didn’t know when he left, as you had already fallen asleep while he was still in the room. He walked away with a satisfied smile on his face while removing the keycard belonging to his hotel room from the back pocket of his jeans, now assured that your room could in fact fit two people.

Taglist OPEN: @xoscar03 @pierregazly @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @lilymurphy03 @the-ghost-lovwr @ilovethefruits @lewlew44 @luvvtrent @hc-dutch @fwhore1 @khaylin27 @lillyssh-tposts @thatgirlmj @ladyoflynx @tcfanmania @customsbyjcg-blog @sltwins @nonstopbookworm @glitterquadricorn @charizznorizz @mrs-bunny @moonliightbabes @likedbygaslyy @booksandflowrs @teamnovalak @formula1mount @gaviymarcsbride @gotthemilk-69 @bwormie @llando4norris @ellesssssxzxz @arian-directioner @lou-bean28 @depressedgiftedburnout @halleest @amberpanda99 @borapsycho @cosmoscoffeee @mycenterfold @67-angelofthelordme-67 @sugarvibez @mehrmonga @aadu2173 @bokutos-babyowl @teenwolf01 @presidentdangdang @mrswolffs-blog @amyfelix14 @seasonswinter @amalialeclerc @amandadesantasworld @ystrolllll @xisab @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @pedrohoe04 @yagirlhayes @jadaaasworld @mmack23 @shimmermotorsport @darleneslane @mderby03 @jinimon-tr @landoslutmeout @xjval

[seventhcallisto]

DEEP DOWN.

alpha!Ateez x omega!f!Reader

Idol!Ateez x Idol!F!Reader (A/B/O!AU 9th Member!AU)

You've got every right to be upset. How you tossed and turned the last time. In misery, you dealt with it on your own. You've felt so hot for so long with nothing to keep you cold, although it's only your second heat. They seem the worse they can get. You've got whatever you can reach in a vice grip. God, if only you hadn't spent so much time with so many alphas in a cramped area. If only you heard the valcano errupting in your dna. Maybe it'd be different. Maybe you'd still be a beta, living your life normally. Rather than suffering in a cold dim room, keeping yourself away from the 8 guys your silly half omega brain yearns for. Something you never asked for. Yet, deep down you beg for.

Synopsis: When the 9th member of ateez figures out her beta dna changed because she's spent years surrounded by alphas. Now, a late bloomed omega, she finds herself losing control of the reins of her body and feelings. With the alphas hot on her trail, exposing her secret, she can't decide if she's willing to risk letting them in or cutting off the guys entirely.

CW and content; She/her pronouns used, female anatomy, ot8 x reader, polyamorous relationships. MATURE THEMES! A/b/o, implied soulmates, imprinting, marking, mating bites, heats, ruts, knotting, breeding kink, all that jazz. This is purely self indulgent. 9th member! reader. alpha! ateez x beta turned omega! reader. (I'll explain that later) ANGST! lots of it at first. and lots lots lots of fluff. mutual pining(they don't know it yet tho). number of chapters will be updated as I go down the line. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. PERIOD.

All the content in this story is fictitious. This fanfiction contains mature content. This is an original work of fiction made by seventhcallisto. Do not steal, copy, or plagiarize my works.

WORLD BUILDING— scents.

My masterlist ☆ | 71.8k word count.

Prologue. — 💠 4.5k

Chapter one 6.3k ❝why didn't you answer my calls?❞

Chapter two 6.3k ❝you promise?❞

Chapter three 6.7k ❝meet me halfway.❞

Chapter four 6.1k ❝mirrors❞

Chapter five 11.6k ❝just one.❞ (nsfw)

Chapter six 12.3k ❝lips & hips.❞ (nsfw)

Chapter seven 9.0k ❝your best girl.❞ (nsfw)

Chapter eight 8.6k ❝sensitive.❞ (nsfw)

Chapter nine. Chapter ten.

To Be Continued. 🪼

Comments keep me motivated ! Thank you for supporting.

© seventhcallisto 2023

[shaisuki]

📌 day five: gun play + toji fushiguro

“there's a reason why there's a safety on a gun, sweetheart.” his voice gruff and amusement is laced in his words. he's behind you. showing you the metallic body of the firearm sleek in the color of matte black. it's heavy in your palms despite him holding it. toji doesn't shy from his profession as a hitman. it was his way of living, of surviving.

you have once witnessed take a life with this weapon and in the sick state of your mind, it turns you on, of the thought of him using it against you and toji was more than happy to demonstrate the thing to you. “it's for the people like you who craves this danger.” he continues. pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your head. the scar in the corner of his mouth twitches as he smiles.

toji is still on his work clothes while he sat with you in the bed. you're on your sleep clothes. a flimsy tank top and panties only. trapped in his body where his arms are caged around you. he feels every changes in your body. the sudden inhale and exhale as you breath in the scent of the gun. there's a shiver in your voice and toji chuckles in amusement. your reactions similar from the way you react when he's touching you minus the gun and now, you're reborn. the discovery of dangerous other than him sends you in ecstacy. he's more than willing to indulge you in this pleasure.

the muzzle's cold in the side of your head and if toji allows it, you would be dead in the second he pulls the trigger but there's only a click as he presses the trigger. the action illicits a gasp as you roll your hips. it was only the first and you're this sensitive. how many had died in this position as he planted those bullets in their head and you're in his hold, softly moaning.

the bullets are beneath your feet. it made a clinking sound as he the bullets fall one by one as he removes them in the gun's magazine. safety first. he keep that in mind that there will be no bullets present other than in the magazine as he uses it to you.

“you trust me this much, huh?” finding it reckless of you to trust him. he's a hitman. he's killed a lot either driven by money or his pure amusement as he takes a life and you're trusting him with your life. loaded or not, you were willing to take the risk as long he holds the gun to your head.

there's a wet patch in your panties and you were not going back to the boring, vanilla shit you always both done. you were in his life now and he puts the gun between your soft creamy thighs and pulls the trigger in there, a loud moan ripped from your throat. it continued as you rubbed your cunt to the cold metal of the gun. finding it harder to get away from the pleasure it has given you.

toji grabs your soft jaw, moving it to meet your lips to his own. inserting the wet muscle to your mouth as he explores the depths of your mouth in his. this closeness, this kind of affection while you play with fire, it sends a new kind of sensation. starting from the pit of his stomach, travelling upwards to his brain. a reaction forming.

when he broke the kiss, you say something to him. “i'll die happy in your arms, toji.” you say without hesitation and for a quick second. he envisions you dead. blood pooling around your head and despite the brutality of it, you were smiling. a contented smile that you didn't die with a regret.

there's a harshness from the way he felt for you when you said that. is this what you craved when he knows that you were born in a life without violence while he, have to take the hard way to survive. you're human too, he reasons to himself. it's the same when he takes the pleasure of taking a life while you chased death.

nonetheless, this is what you want. what you needed and when he pulls the trigger again, it made you shiver. reaching the peak of ecstacy and once, you've calmed down all can toji see is the contentment in your features being fulfilled by this sick fantasy of yours.

anyways, it was his fault. he dragged you in the hell he was in and like any martyrs, you would die just for the sake of what you believe and it's tragic that you believe in him.

[narumi-gens]

yandere!morax/zhongli x adeptus gn!reader

morax finds you where he always does on the few occasions he allows you time to yourself, kneeling in the garden with your hands folded in your lap and your head respectfully tilted down. it's been only a few decades since he took you for his own, a self-reward of sorts for a still freshly won war.

and what are a few decades to the immortal?

he supposes you spend so much time here because the gardens are so wide and open that they make the high, stone walls that keep you caged within his grasp seem slightly smaller by perspective.

there's a soft, spring breeze in the air, which picks up for just a moment as he chooses to sit on the grass directly in front of you with his legs crossed before him and his wrists casually resting on his knees.

your head remains down and your eyes stay closed, choosing not to acknowledge his presence.

"have you not grown bored after spending so much time alone with nothing but your thoughts?" his deep voice and teasing tone shatter the garden's tranquility, yet still you refuse to look at him. "I'm happy to provide you with whatever book you would like. all you need to do is ask."

"my prayers keep me occupied."

it's a dangerous admission on your part. as liyue's archon, he hears every prayer his people make yet he's never once heard yours. which means that your prayers aren't to him.

but he'll indulge you and play your game – for now at least.

"what do you pray for?"

"for liberation." your answer isn't a surprise. what else could you pray for?

"oh? and to whom do you pray?"

finally, you open your eyes and lift your chin to meet his gaze. there's a hardness in them that reminds him of the jewels the people of liyue put so much time and effort into mining. even the warm, gentle wind and the smell of blooming flowers it brings are incapable of softening your demeanor.

"the archons."

any trace of amusement immediately vanishes as his eyes flash dangerously. his pupils morph into the slits of his true, draconic form.

"I am your archon."

he doesn't mention the contract you signed during the archon war in concert with the other adepti, agreeing to protect liyue. he doesn't need to.

although with your powers now sealed away through his own means, there's little protection that you would be able to provide should you ever actually be called upon to do so. the only part of the contract that still pertains to you as you are now, as he's made you now, is the provision accepting morax as liyue's archon.

it's a provision that he worded carefully in the specific contract he offered you, where you not only accepted him as the prime of adepti, but also swore eternal subservience to him as part of it.

"you are one archon," you remind him coldly, raising an eyebrow in challenge, daring him to contradict what is fact. "one of seven."

he offers you a patronizing smile in return.

"tell me, then. which of the remaining six do you think would be foolish enough to answer you?"

he only decides to humor you because he knows the answer is none of them. no archon would risk upsetting the peaceful but precarious balance they had just spent centuries, more than a millennium, fighting for.

and to break this unspoken contract amongst the seven in order to steal his greatest treasure right out from under him wouldn't just be foolish. it would be reckless.

but then his sight turns a pure, blood red that he hasn't experienced since the final days of the archon war. his fingers begin to elongate as they transform into claws. his horns make a grotesque cracking sound as they emerge from his skull. his teeth sharpen as he bares his fangs openly.

because a sudden divine energy has appeared between you and you open your clasped hands to reveal a glowing, teal-colored gem bearing a pair of spread wings.

"the god of freedom, it would seem."

[writingjourney]

bound by lace | cardinal copia x f!reader

summary: after mercilessly teasing you at papa’s birthday dinner, the cardinal can't have you sneaking away from him.

content: 2.8k words, f!reader, dom!cardinal, panty-sniffing, public boners, (semi) public sex, spanking, gagging, mild degradation, praise, rough sex, white suit copia, he’s a bit of a pervert here, they're established, 18+ MDNI

This is what happens when @leezlelatch tells me to write a "short" warmup drabble – I spend two days writing purely self-indulgent filth. You should also check out her fic!

Masterlist – Ao3 link

By now you’re certain that he’s not wearing any underwear. 

You’ve been watching the Cardinal for a few minutes now as he’s palming himself under the table, a black-gloved hand massaging his cock that’s trapped by the tight fabric of his white suit. He can’t take his eyes off of you, his head turned into your direction to make sure you know exactly what or who he’s thinking about. 

You regret that you let him have a say in the seating arrangements. The round tables have been spread out in the courtyard to allow enough space for Papa’s private circle to celebrate his birthday with an opulent outdoor dinner party. As Papa’s personal assistant it would be considered impertinent of you to disappear from the party until dinner is officially over and he knows it. His own position allows the Cardinal a seat at the table with Papa himself whom he entertains from time to time but does not seem to actually listen to. The way your seats are angled gives you a prime view of the Cardinal’s lap – and his stiff cock.

No one else is privy to his actions, distracted by rosemary-marinated steaks and casual conversation. You, however, have been shifting in your seat ever since he started his performance. After not having seen him all day you’ve been plagued by indecent thoughts about his body. He’s been ignoring all of your desperate texts – only to show up in the tight white suit that he knows has your brain shutting down on sight. It’s a game for him, really, and with every flick of his wrist, his smirk only grows wider.

Conversation at your own table flows easily. Instead of participating you’re trying to grind at the edge of the chair for at least some friction, rubbing your thighs together as inconspicuously as possible. The Cardinal’s brows pull together when he sees this, his hand tightly gripping his erection, giving you a little show as he pushes his hips into his hand. You fight the urge to moan at the sight, wriggling on your chair until by accident your panties catch, slipping down your hips by just an inch.

You shift again and again until the fabric fully slides down your ass. Hidden by the white tablecloth, you hike up your skirts, then pull your already dripping underwear down and bunch it up in your fist. When he turns his head to observe your miserable hip-wiggles again, you risk throwing the lacy bundle in his direction from under the table. They land right next to his white leather shoe, the wet patch resting on its pointy tip where anyone could see them if they knew what to look for. His gaze drops down and at the realisation of what exactly you gifted him his eyes widen. Two can play this game, Cardinal. 

You watch with a suppressed giggle as he drops his napkin with a loud whoops and picks it up, hooking his gloved pinkie into your panties. Hidden behind the heavy white fabric that is stained with black lipstick marks he brings them to his face, stopping right underneath his beautiful straight nose. Your eyes widen as he pretends to clean his mouth, taking a deep breath through your underwear that has his chest rising and falling heavily in his tight suit. He catches your eyes just after his exhale and grins at your shocked expression. While he brings the napkin back to rest beside his empty plate, the panties fall into his lap. You can see his hard cock twitching at the contact, straining the unforgiving material of his pants in a way that looks more painful the harder he gets.

You hear a deep cough and look back to his face, his smirk pulling the corners of his mouth up to emphasise the delicious blush that has now spread over his freckled cheeks. He’s so very handsome, so very aware of his effect on you. Almost sensually, he trails his fingers from his belly down to his groin, hiding the panties in his hand and rubbing them over his cock. His eyes close for a moment, his lips parting in an inaudible sigh as he drags them over his bulge again and again. When he finally pushes them into his pocket, they leave a wet stain running along the seam of his crotch.

It’s enough. You can’t keep sitting here watching him while you drip into your dress. Fleeing the scene seems safe – he would not dare to stand up now, showing a whole table of Papas and Sister what’s going on in his pants. As soon as his attention leaves you momentarily, you slip away with an excuse to use the bathroom. For a few seconds you hurry down the cool hallways, the skirt of your dress billowing behind you and allowing a gentle breeze to caress your inner thighs. You have to stop and think to locate the nearest bathroom, but you’re not even close when you hear rapid footsteps behind you, flat heels clicking familiarly on old stone tiles.

You don’t even have enough time to turn around before he’s pulling you into his chest, stifling your surprised scream with his gloved hand. His erection is poking into your ass and he rolls his hips against you, practically humping you from behind.

“You think you can run away after this little show, rattino?” he murmurs. “Leave me sitting there in pain while you sneak away to steal your pleasure from me?”

You can’t help but moan against his fingers. With his arm slung around your waist, he drags you a few steps down the hall, his fingers on your mouth now sliding between your lips and pressing down on your tongue. Impatiently, he pushes you into an alcove that houses an expensive bronze statue based on the Lupa Capitolina. Only instead of a she-wolf the metal was molded into a three-headed hellhound nursing her puppies.

When you start to suck on his fingers, desperate for his attention now, he immediately pulls them out and tuts. “You don’t get to taste me, rattino, not even the leather on my hands.”

His tone draws a pathetic whimper from your mouth. The Cardinal has no mercy. With one hand digging into the meat of your hips, he holds you in place before you can feel the fingers of his other hand sprawling out on your back. For a moment he gently caresses your spine but then he suddenly pushes, bending you over the statue while grinding his hips into yours. You both moan at the feeling, the sound reverberating in the hallway at an alarming volume.

“They’re going to come looking for us,” you whisper. “Please, can we go somewhere else?”

“No no no, I won’t let you run again. You better be quiet, sorella, I know how loud you can get.” You can feel his hand moving between your bodies, fiddling with his pants. “So naughty, throwing your underwear at your Cardinal, teasing him like this in front of our Papa. You were not worried anyone would notice then, no? Did you want to embarrass me?”

You shake your head and rest your warm cheek on the cool metal of the statue.

“Words, rattino, or I will leave you bent over here for the rest of the night.”

You swallow uncomfortably. “No, Cardinal, I did not want to embarrass you. I’m sorry.”

“Hmm, you are, eh?” He starts to rut again, his hard cock rubbing against your ass cheeks through the soft fabric of your dress. “Tell me why you did it, dolcezza, and maybe I will reward you for your courage.”

“I wanted to tease you back,” you admit. “Seeing you so hard for me was torture. You tortured me with your tight suit and your– your cock.”

He chuckles at your silly outburst. “You are not very patient, amore. Do you not trust me to take care of you in due time?”

“I need you. I needed you all day.”

He gives a melodic hum as he runs his hand from your back down to your ass, hiking your skirts up until you can feel the cool air against your bare cheeks. “That is a good reason, dolcezza. I will allow it for today.”

His sudden need to converse with you is slowly driving you insane. You push back into him, trying to get him to move, but all he does is grip your hips as tight as he can while his other hand rains down on your butt in a hard slap. The impact echoes loudly in the hollow alcove and you yelp, holding onto the neck of the hound to avoid sliding off its back.

“Ah, I did not say there would be no punishment.”

“’s too loud,” you whine.

“You’re right, I think I should fill that big mouth of yours, rattino.” He chuckles deviously. “And lucky for me you gave me the perfect thing.”

He pulls away to the point where you can’t feel him anymore and lose him in your peripheral vision. But before you can complain he roughly shoves your panties into your mouth. You can feel the cold wet patch against your tongue, the fabric quickly soaking up your spit.

“You know what our sign is, amore, yes?” he asks softly. You dutifully tap your fingers against the metal of the statue three times. “Brava ragazza. Now I will not hear another sound from you until you have received your punishment, okie dokie? I think five more will do.”

You nod and he gently runs his gloved hand over your ass, caressing the spot he just hit. 

“You already had numero uno and since your mouth is ugh… occupied… this time I will count them for you, yes?” He gives you one more soft caress and then his hand comes down again, lower this time, the sound barely muffled by the leather of his gloves. It doesn’t hurt as much as his bare hands and yet you feel the sting so clearly that you bite into your makeshift gag. “Due.”

After this, he switches hands, his weaker left palm meeting your ass with slightly less force. Despite being in a more sequestered area of the abbey, you fell incredibly exposed and it only adds to the wild cocktail of pleasure and pain.

“Tre.”

A short break in which he soothes your skin with the soft leather. He gives you no warning before he strikes you two times in quick succession and you fight off a whimper by biting harder into the fabric in your mouth. No sounds, he’d said. He rewards you with an appreciative hum. 

“Quattro e cinque.” Again, he soothes your skin, using his other hand to tickle your thigh. “You are doing so good, dolcezza, such a good little rat for your Cardinal. Just one more now.”

For the last one, he uses his right hand again. It’s the heaviest blow, aimed so low that you can feel the impact in your throbbing cunt as you slide further up the statue.

“Sei.”

You exhale through your nose and close your eyes, revelling in the burning sensation of your skin and the pleasure that’s pooling into your core.

“You know, this color is even more beautiful than your blush when I rubbed your panties over my cock,” the Cardinal says behind you with a chuckle and then you feel his lips on your ass. He presses a few gentle kisses to your abused skin, soothing with his tongue. His mouth travels all the way up to your lower back until he’s stopped by your dress. “Are you ready for me now, dolcezza? You are dripping all over your thighs.”

You whimper desperately at his words. He’s been avoiding your pussy on purpose but now you can feel his finger probing at your slick entrance, spreading out your arousal. A soft hum of relief leaves you at the contact, the sound of his zipper filling your ears like a choir of angels singing their heavenly praise. 

He wastes no more time, slowly easing himself into your drenched cunt. After the long wait, the stretch feels so good that your eyelids flutter closed. For all his teasing, he must have been on edge as well because once he bottoms out, a strangled groan bubbles from his chest and his fingers dig into your hips with a bruising intensity.

“So good,” he whispers. “So f-fucking good, amore. Cazzo.”

And then he starts to move. The first thrust sends you flying halfway across the statue and you wrap your arms around its belly, chafing your finger on one of the edges. The Cardinal doesn’t stop, just pulls your hips back and slams himself into you again. You keen, muffled by the gag, but in your ears the pathetic noises you release and your skin slapping together resound so loudly that you’re sure the whole abbey can hear. He proceeds to roughly fuck into you with no regards for volume, the angle just right so he hits you where you need him. With all the pent-up desire for him you approach your climax fast and hard and you stop caring as you try to hold yourself steady as best as you can.

You’re right at the precipice, dangling so close to the edge when the Cardinal suddenly stops. It’s only then that you hear the clattering of heeled footsteps in the distance. You can almost see Sister yelling at you, the most embarrassing images flashing before your eyes, but with every passing second the sounds fade out more and more. You immediately push yourself back, wriggling as much as you can from your cramped position to get him to hurry up.

“Shhhhh.” He slowly rocks into you again, dragging the tip of his cock along your sensitive walls. “We will not rush this, dolcezza, no. I want you to feel every bit of it.”

Carefully, his speed picks back up, insistent hips rolling against your ass until he rediscovers his previous rhythm. With your moans stifled by your panties, the only outlet for your growing pleasure is your tight grip on the statue’s tits. The Cardinal must be close as well because soon he falters, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he clumsily slides his hand down to fumble with your clit. It’s all you need to fall. When you come, pleasure spreads over your body like liquid fire. You clench tightly around him and with a strangled moan he spills into you, twitching and shivering into his last few strokes.

For a moment, you stay exactly like that, stuck in the quiet afterglow with only your laboured breathing as evidence. The Cardinal lets you recuperate briefly after he pulls out, his hands soothing the skin of your hips that he gripped so tightly at the height of his pleasure.

“You did so well, amore, so well. Your Cardinal is so proud of you,” he whispers when he leans down to remove the panties from your mouth. “You are okay? Not too much?”

With your eyes still closed, you hum happily and rest your forehead against the cool metal, wetting your dry lips. He lets the fabric of your dress slide back over your tender backside and you whimper at the delicious pain. As you open your eyes to see him moving into your peripheral vision, he gives you an apologetic smile that you can’t help but return.

“We should go back, amore,” he finally says, tucking his softening dick back into his still wet pants. “I think they will be serving dessert soon and I really want the strawberry cake.”

“I don’t know if I can sit anymore,” you mumble, righting yourself on shaky knees. You can feel his seed dripping out of you immediately. He won’t give you the panties to clean yourself but pushes them back into his pocket.

“Maybe you have to sit on my lap for the rest of the evening,” he says, gently kissing your temple as he pulls you close. “Or kneel under my table hehe.”

You playfully push against his chest. “You know Papa hates it when we do PDA. He says we’re obnoxious.”

“Well, I hate it when he sits on my desk and messes up my papers and he does it all the time anyway.”

His hand comes up to cradle your cheek, brushes a strand of hair from your eyes. Up close you see all of his flushed, freckled face, his black eye make-up smudged into sweaty streaks. You wipe at his messed up lipstick but all he does is lean in to press a soft kiss to your lips. Finally tasting him is all the reward you need and you sigh, allowing him to deepen the kiss. His tongue is gentle as it greets yours and when he breaks away, he smiles at you more fondly than ever.

“You know, we could steal some of the cake from the kitchens and just dip…” you propose, pressing a few kisses along his jaw.

His smile widens. “You always have the best ideas, amore.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – my Ao3

[kinicheous]

kisses with him

ft. xiao, kazuha, kinich

genre/notes: fluff-ish, mildly suggestive (kinich) (let me know if something is missing!)

☁︎ xiao

it feels like a little secret, sitting alone on the rooftop of wangshu inn while bustling and gleeful conversations go wild inside, visitors unaware of you and the company next to you. very close next to you.

your knee brushes against xiao’s, so do your shoulders. in the back of your head you remember the first few times you sat like this, how beat red the adeptus used to be, flustered beyond one’s comprehension. it’s better now, but it’s amusing that you can still find remnants of it — tips of his ears tinted red, eyes darting over your every feature, lips parted from mesmerization as they burn in the want to lock with yours.

xiao’s fingertips merely feather your cheek, but when you lean even closer his palm curls to fully caress its expanse. it brings a smile to your face and for as long as it remains, he allows himself forget the weight of karmic debt, breathing out in what sounds like relief. the final push is the way you place your hand on top of his, the underlying sign of mutual affection urging him to close what’s left of the gap.

it’s a light touch, and xiao is so tender in the way he moves his lips against your own, almost as if he’s afraid the slightest pressure will break you; you’re simply too dear to him, a mortal being out of many, many others that he cherishes more than he’d ever even let himself imagine, and it’s that particular feeling that makes him push just the slightest bit closer.

it’s pure tenderness that the kiss conveys, and xiao knows the taste of it will remain on his lips even after you part. yet, it’s faint, so delicate and fleeting. it’s not enough, not for an adeptus who’s living through loving and being loved for the first time, so it makes you laugh a bit when he’s quick to lean in once again.

☁︎ kazuha

for his nature to be the definition of calm, kazuha must love to make all hell break loose within you.

at this hour, the crux is just about as quiet as the vast sea is tonight. the ship’s deck is empty, even beidou, who’d been up drinking until late, is sleeping soundly and nowhere to be seen. yet, he’s being awfully carefree and comfortable with having you held between himself and the ship’s railing when anyone could come out and see at any moment.

with one hand on the wood, the other is holding your chin in the other. the bandaged fingers of a sword-user feel rough against your skin, though you hardly notice that with how soft his grip is—he’s giving you a clear opportunity to slip away from the risk of being caught, but you can’t bring yourself to do so when kisses feather from the spot below your ear, gradually further up towards the corner of your lips. your stares lock for a moment, and kazuha can’t help but let out a breath of someone utterly lovesick. “don’t give me that look,” he breaks the night silence, “you’re going to drive me insane.”

and just like that, he presses his lips against yours. upon responding to the kiss, kazuha sighs in relief, revealing the slightest hint of eagerness in the touch. he shifts from the railing to hold you closer by your lower back; in the back of your mind, you wonder if he had anything to drink tonight, but you don’t think much more about it, instead letting yourself indulge in the love he’s so shameless about giving you.

☁︎ kinich

kinich rests his weight back on his palms, one leg curled up to his chest as the other dangles from the side of his bed. you’ve been yapping for quite a while now, but he doesn’t mind at all, entertained by the fresh stories of your most recent journey outside of natlan’s borders. with that said, parts of his mind isn’t even present, something which you seem to notice in the middle of your talking. “and that traveler actually had this flying little companion with he— hey, are you listening?”

the small smile he’s been wearing this entire time doesn’t falter even as he answers, head tilting to the side, “yeah—what about the traveler?”

“oh—... well, yeah. after she proved me innocent to fontaine’s iudex—i think they were friends, by the way—we hung out a bit, she told me about her adventures, and how she was looking for her brother…” your words, trail off a bit, the excitement turning into a pout, “but she looked quite sad while talking about him. i’m sure she misses him a lot.”

“that’s not really strange, is it?” kinich responds, “waiting for someone to come home can get quite lonely sometimes.”

the wording makes you curiously glance up, but he’s already reaching a hand out, his warm palm finding your cheek. you’d lie to say it doesn’t cause an extra skip in your chest, but you hide that with a smug grin, “are you saying you’ve missed me too?”

kinich doesn’t answer through more than an airy laugh, and it surprises you when he suddenly leans in without warning. there’s only a brief pause, one where his eyes dart down to your lips, before he locks them with your own.

his kisses are gentle. every time, without fail, but there are occasions they’re accompanied with a certain longing; his hand shifts from your face to the back of your neck, like he’s trying to keep you from retreating, although he knows just fine you’re not even considering it; it takes every bit of his power to not laugh when you gasp into the touch, all while he’s not even trying to hold back how he deepens the kiss. quite a way to welcome you back.

[twirlywhirlywriting]

Consequences of Being a Brat

Eddie Munson Fic Incoming!

NSFW 18+, Minors DNI! Okay so this one is… whoo. A lot more intense than my previous fics. I know I said my next fic would be with Clarke Griffin from The 100 but I got smacked in the face with inspiration for this so, here you go. This fic is purely self indulgent and I pretty much made it just for my own desire BUT I am sure all you dom!Eddie lovers out there will enjoy it too. I honestly have no clue if The Magic Wand existed in the 80’s but for the sake of this fic, it absolutely did. The ending is super fluffy so please stick around for it too! Please like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed this, it would mean the whole entire world to me!

Word Count: 9,016

Warnings:NSFW 18+, Angst (very slight), Smut, Fluff, AFAB Reader, Aftercare, BratTamer!Eddie, Brat!Reader, Breath Play (one time near the end), Bondage, Biting, Potential CNC? (honestly I’m not sure if it is or not. Reader doesn’t want to accept punishment but it’s all a part of their brat/tamer dynamic and consensual, but as always, read at your own risk), Choking, Crying During Aftercare, Dom!Eddie, Degradation, Dacryphilia, Eventual Submission, Extreme Sensitivity, Face Slapping (Only a couple of times and it is not extreme), Forced Orgasms, Fingering, Humiliation, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Oral Sex (f and m receiving), Orgasm Control and Denial, Punishment, P-in-V (unprotected, wrap it up irl folks), Rough Sex, Sub!Reader, Spanking, Swearing, Squirting, Subspace (mentions of, it’s not super deep), Vibrators

Idk I feel like I overdo it with warnings sometimes but I want you to be able to read at your own risk and avoid your own triggers, I do not want my writing to cause harm! Only horniness and happy feelings! Anywho, here is my newest fic and I really hope you all love it!

Consequences of Being a Brat

The stage lights focused, the crowd hushed, and the electric hum of anticipation filled the air. Eddie Munson, with his shaggy brown hair cascading over his shoulders, stood center stage. His fingers started strumming his electric guitar as Corroded Coffin launched into their first song. In the sea of people, Eddie scanned the crowd, looking for one face in particular–yours. You never missed a single concert, and tonight shouldn’t have been any different. But tonight, no matter how hard he searched, you were nowhere to be found. 

Where the hell is she? He thought to himself. As the concert reached its crescendo, Eddie’s mind wandered, his performance slightly faltering. Once the last note echoed through the quarry, Eddie rushed offstage. His heart pounded with a mix of post-performance adrenaline and concern for where you could be. 

Back at home, I was absolutely fine. My coworker at the bakery asked me to pick up their shift, so I was working overtime and honestly forgot about the concert tonight. I was laying on the couch, lounging in Eddie’s Hellfire club shirt and black cotton panties while watching some cheesy horror flick. I was just about to get up from the couch to call in for a pizza delivery, when Eddie crashed through the door. 

He looks absolutely frantic, making me feel instantly guilty. I totally forgot to tell him that I wouldn’t be able to make the concert tonight. Fuck. “Eddie, I’m so sorry! I had to cover Emily’s shift tonight and I completely forgot to let you know I wasn’t going to make it. I feel terrible.”  I stand up to give him a hug, he looks like he needs it.

Eddie’s frustration softens, but is still very present. “You just forgot to tell me? I was worried sick, baby. I thought you were hurt.” He hugs me back tightly, before sighing and letting me go.

“I know, I know, Eddie. I’m sorry,” I say, stepping back as he runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. One of the rings on his fingers gets stuck in his hair and as he is figuring out how to get it un-stuck, I can’t help but giggle.

His head immediately snaps to look at me, questioning, “What’s so funny?” 

I try not to, but I can’t hold back another giggle. “I can’t help it, you looked so worried.. It was kind of cute.” I know this conversation will get me nowhere but trouble, but my heart feels so inflated with how much he cares about me, I don’t even care right now.

His eyes close for a moment as he processes what just came out of my mouth, his tongue jutting into the side of his cheek. When he opens his eyes again, they seem much darker than they were before and I knew that my words had started something. His tone itself could cut through ice. “Excuse me? Would you like to repeat that? I’m just not sure that’s what you were really trying to say, sweetheart.” 

His words shoot a shiver through my body and directly down to my core. He doesn’t call me that unless I’m really starting to push my limits. It’s a fucked up nickname because it’s way too gentle for whatever he’s planning to do to me.

For some stupid reason, the desire to provoke him becomes unbearable. “That is actually exactly what I was trying to say. You were so worried about me that you ran home and almost tore the front door off its hinges. It was absolutely adorable.” I put extra emphasis on the last word, a smirk playing on my lips. 

His eyebrow raises at me as his arms cross over his chest, his fingers tapping his arm in an attempt to control his desire to put me over his knee right that second. “Oh yeah? Wanna make that hole you’re in a little deeper?” He takes a step closer to me until it feels like he’s towering over me, his face only inches from mine, and whispers, “Go on, say something else. I dare you.” 

Those fucking words. Maybe on any other day, I would have just apologized and took a spanking or two. But daring me? Oh boy, today was not the day. I just got done with two fucking shifts at work in a row and okay, yeah, I can see why you’d be worried about me and now you’re mad that I’m mouthing off, but seriously? Fuck you, Eddie! I thought to myself. 

Surprise registers on his face as his mouth opens slightly, eyes widening. Oh god. Did I just say that out loud? I look up at him and laugh nervously. “Is it too late already to say I’m sorry?” My voice is much more quiet than I mean it to be, but it’s too difficult to speak up when his eyes are on fire and it’s directed right at me.

He just stares at me, his eyes going from that teddy-bear brown to straight up black. He starts unbuckling his belt, pulling it from the loops slowly. My mouth dries out and for a moment, I’m frozen in place before the realization of what he’s about to do hits and I fucking bolt towards the bathroom so I can lock myself in there for a while until he calms down. 

His hand quickly reaches out and grabs me by the wrist before flipping me around to face him. He grabs my chin and forces me to look up at him while his other hand continues pulling his belt from the loops at an agonizing pace. “And just where do you think you’re going? You really think you get to say that shit to me and then run off to avoid my belt? Really?” He can’t help but laugh at my escape attempt, but his laugh sounds empty. 

I try to pull my face away from his grip, but it’s impossible. My nerves turn into anger and I suddenly swat his hand away from my face, my voice raising to a yell. “You can’t get me in trouble for this! I was just messing around, Eddie, can’t you take a fucking joke?” 

The growl that escapes his lips is feral. He grabs me by the back of the neck and pushes me forward, forcing me down the hallway towards the bedroom as he bites back, “Eddie? I don’t know who the fuck you think you’re talking to, sweetheart, but that is incorrect.” 

I’m practically stumbling over my own feet, he’s pushing me so hard and walking too fast for me to find a good rhythm in my steps. I get shoved down onto the mattress face first, but quickly flip myself around and sit up, scrambling backwards to the opposite side of the bed. “Stop it! Eddie I said I was sorry, I was joking! Don’t do this, seriously.” My voice is definitely mixed with panic and anger… arousal is in there somewhere too, judging by the wet spot I know is coming through my panties right now. 

He grabs me by my ankles and drags me back towards him, before flipping me over, scolding me as he yanks off my panties and giving my ass a few hard spanks with his hand to warm me up. “Let me get this straight. You are acting like a fucking brat, and now you refuse to take your punishment for it? Not only that, you know how you’re supposed to address me right now, yet you keep acting like you’re just my sweet little girlfriend and calling me by my name. But you’re not my sweet little girlfriend right now, are you?” 

He doesn’t even give me a chance to respond to his questions, he just grabs his belt and uses every harsh spank with it to emphasize his next words. “You. Are. My. Bratty. Fucking. Slut.” I wince and whine at every smack, and then my hands fly back to cover my now-bright red ass for protection. He has no patience with me anymore, I can tell. He grabs my hands to pin them behind my back, which makes me groan out in frustration and panic, and without even thinking about it, I’ve kicked my feet at him and hit him right in the thigh. Thankfully it wasn’t a direct kick to the balls, but it was close. And now I’m fucked.

I look back at him as best as I can, and the look on his face sends another round of chills down my spine. I can feel myself getting wetter by the second though, fuck my life. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it!” I scream at him, squirming as hard as I could to try to get away, “I wouldn’t have done that if you had just let me go!” 

He tuts at me from behind, sighing in disappointment. “You really need a lesson in obedience today, don’t you? I tried to just give you a few spankings with the belt. Just a few, and you just can’t stop making things worse for yourself.” He grabs me by the hair and yanks me up to sit, making me yelp. My shirt is torn off of me before a quick, double-handed shove sends me crashing back down. It’s not gentle, and I let out an “oof” when I hit the bed. He grabs me by my hips and flips me over again before getting onto the bed and straddling me so I can’t squirm away. 

He leans over and grabs a piece of rope in the bedside table drawer before grabbing my wrists harshly. As he is tying my wrists together, he talks to me rather calmly, as if he’s explaining how two plus two equals four. “If you had just taken your punishment like a good girl, I wouldn’t be having to do this, sweetheart. But you just couldn’t shut your mouth, could you? And then you kick me? You actually kick me? Well, when this all gets too intense for you, just remember that you brought this on yourself. I tried to let you off easy, I really did. But now it’s time to face the consequences, sweetheart.” He sighs as he pulls my arms up to tie the other end of the rope against the headboard, acting like my squirming is literally nothing to him.  The entire time he’s talking I’ve been doing my best to squirm, to look at him with pleading eyes, to whimper at him submissively like I know he likes, but none of it was doing a single thing to change his mind. 

I suddenly notice just how naked I am, and just how clothed he is. It makes my thighs squeeze together as I try to hide just how fucking turned on I am by all of this. Am I terrified? Yes. Have I ever gotten in this much trouble before? No. Am I wetter than I’ve ever been before in my life? God, yes. When he is done with the ties, he looks down at me with his arms crossed against his chest again and his eyebrow raised, waiting for… something?

I look up at him for a few seconds, getting a little bit irritated by the way he’s sitting there and staring at me expectantly but not doing or saying anything. “What?” Oops. That came out harsher than I meant it to.

“Well? Are you going to apologize?” He demands. Why the fuck is my only urge when he looks like that to make him even more agitated? I know punishment is coming. I know he’s at his limit with my disobedience and attitude. And yet it’s just too entertaining to witness all of his reactions when I refuse to give up.

“No. You don’t own me, you can’t make me do shit.” I glare at him, shutting my eyes and pulling at the restraints slightly as I prepare for a slap. It doesn’t come. 

I slowly peek one eye open and he leans forward, grabbing my chin in his hand so hard it hurts until I fully look at him, and then whispers, “Oh, but I do. And you’re going to learn that the hard way.” I can’t help but swallow hard, and my mouth dries out again. I have no clever response to that. 

He crawls off of me and grabs the underside of my knees, yanking them open despite me trying to keep them closed. I knew I was a mess down there and I didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of knowing that too. When he sees how wet I am, he lets out a whistle. “Damn, baby. You are such a dirty girl.” His fingers go right to my core, spreading my lips apart with two fingers, causing me to whimper and turn my face away from him because the way he’s looking at my pussy right now has my stomach doing flips. 

He slides two his two fingers up and down my slit to wet them before shoving them both inside me, giving me absolutely no time to adjust before he starts pumping them in and out at a much faster pace than he normally warms me up with. I moan out as his fingers are sliding in and out easily. I can already hear how wet I am on his fingers, and it makes my cheeks flush at the sound. I can’t even help it at this point and I squirm at the sensation, my legs closing around his hand. Which, obviously doesn’t do fucking anything to stop him or even slow him down. He curls his fingers up once he feels my g-spot start to swell from stimulation, not only making a “come here” motion but also still bringing his fingers in and out of me at a vicious pace. I squeeze my legs tighter and my moans straight up sound like I’m in a porno movie or something. 

“You are so fucking wet. I don’t even need to warm you up like this, do I? No, I don’t think I do.” He rips his hands away and leaves me whining at the empty feeling, but it is quickly replaced by the tip of his cock teasing my entrance. I don’t even remember seeing him take off his pants. He slides it along my slit and barely touches my clit with it, which makes me flinch. He slowly pushes himself inside of me as he grabs my hips so hard, I swear they’ll bruise. He leans his head back and groans at the feeling, but just a moment later he is pounding into me at an unforgiving pace. I look at him as my mouth hangs open, keeping eye contact as I’m unable to hold back my moans yet again. The speed of his thrusts mixed with just how turned on I am causes me to get closer to an orgasm much faster than I’d like to. 

I absentmindedly try to wrap my arms around him for something to hold on to but the ropes promptly remind me that I can’t. As he feels my pussy starting to twitch and throb the closer I get to an orgasm, he grabs onto the back of my thighs and pushes my legs up and to the side of me, giving him a much better angle to hit my g-spot with every thrust. When he hears the sweet sounds I’m making at this angle, he starts pushing himself deeper and thrusting his hips even harder, practically slamming into my cervix every few thrusts. If it weren’t for how ruthlessly he was fucking me, I would be extremely distracted by the heavenly groans that were freely flowing from his lips right now. 

I’m heading towards an orgasm so quickly, I barely have time to say “I’m gonna” before he pulls his cock out of me faster than I can realize what was happening. Right as I’m about to open my mouth to argue or whine at him for rudely stopping my impending orgasm, he brings his hand down to slap my pussy. The wet sound it makes mixed with the sting on my sensitive lips makes me arch my back and groan. He chuckles darkly and slaps my pussy again just to hear me make that sound again. 

Then he gets right in my face, and his voice sounds like it’s practically an entire octave lower than usual. “Do you want me to make you cum? Hm? Is that what you want?” I know where this is heading, and it is not in my favor. I nod my head quickly at him, making my voice sound as submissive as I can manage right now, hoping it will work.

“Yes! Yes please, please make me cum! Please Ed-Sir! Please make me cum Sir!” When I almost called him Eddie, he looked like he was about to fucking lose it, so I corrected myself. There have been times before when he’s edged me for days without letting me cum, and I absolutely cannot take that kind of punishment right now. 

He places his hand around my throat, squeezing tight enough so that I can’t easily speak and then slams himself inside of me again without warning. No sound comes out when I try to cry out from the sudden force. He speeds up and slows down in a repeating pattern until I’m quivering under him and he can feel just how close I am. He loosens his grip on my throat and has a devilish smirk while he says, “Say it again. Beg me. Say ‘Please Sir, please make me cum like the little slut I am.” 

I balk at his words; my voice is caught in my throat and I even stop moaning for a second. I’m so fucking close to cumming though, my legs are shaking uncontrollably. He slaps both of my tits, hard, to jump-start my brain into saying something. “Fuck! Don’t make me say that, God, please just let me cum!” 

A chuckle escapes his lips and he tuts his tongue at me in disappointment. He slaps me in the face suddenly. “God isn’t here, sweetheart. It’s just me. You just don’t want to listen, do you?” He says this casually, as if he didn’t just hit me. He pulls his cock out of me again, and I whine as my impending orgasm fizzles out again. He leans over and grabs more rope, silently tying my calf to my thigh and then tying the other side of the rope to the headboard. He does the same thing to my other leg, so that both of my legs are tied up and out of his way. I give the ropes a test squirm and become increasingly nervous as I realize just how little wiggle room I have. I can barely even move my hips an inch. Not good.

I want so badly to complain, to whine, to beg, to argue my way out of this. But as soon as my mouth opens, no words come out. Which is good, because the way he’s looking at me is telling me that now my punishment is going to really begin, and I am too nervous to make it any worse than it’s about to be. He reaches his hand out towards me and grips my cheeks in between his thumb and fingers, digging in. “You have been such a brat today, you don’t deserve an ounce of mercy, sweetheart.” 

He lets my cheeks go with a bit of force, before aligning himself up against my entrance and slamming inside me again. I’m hitting the edge so fast, I can’t even help myself from begging, despite what he literally just told me about not deserving mercy. “Please! Please just let me cum. Don’t edge me again, please! Two times is enough, Sir. Please, two times is enough!” My voice sounds whorish, even I can hear it. The force that he’s slamming into me makes every other syllable sound strained through my moans. 

“Oh, you think two times is enough?” He scoffs at me before pulling all the way out until just the tip is at my entrance, before slamming into me all the way and growling, “You think two times is all you deserve? You’re pathetic, baby. You don’t even realize how much you need me to break you, to put you in your place.” 

He pulls out and slams into me again, his hands reaching up and pinching my nipples hard enough to make me yelp. He continues at this pace, keeping me right on the edge with his incredibly slow, forceful thrusts. “Now beg me for it. Tell me you want me to make you cum. Say ‘Please Sir, please make me cum like the little slut I am.’” He spits out the word “slut” with venom, his eyes don’t leave mine for a second. I’m so close, so needy, so fucking close that I don’t dare look away from him either.

I cry out in frustration, a “no!” escaping my lips before I can even stop it. I look at him desperately, about to apologize for defying him yet again and beg him to just let me cum, but he smacks my tits again and uses both of his hands to grip my throat. He squeezes just enough that I can still breathe, if I really focus, but there’s no way I can talk. 

“No?” he repeats, an evil grin spreading across his face as he pulls out of me all the way again, and I think for a second he’s going to stop completely. “Well then, I guess we’re just going to have to keep going, aren’t we?” He leans in and bites the inside of my tit right next to my nipple so hard that I pull against the restraints and my eyes squeeze shut. He pushes himself back into me again, his pace so fast the bed sounds like it’s going to fucking break. I’m so close, so so close, and he knows it. He can feel it. “Don’t you dare fucking cum, babygirl.” 

As tears start to spring to my eyes, he lets my throat go and places his hands on each side of my head instead. The second I can, I’m begging as best as I can, “Please! Please pleasepleaseplease let me cum, Sir I can’t take it, please!” My words are barely even words, they’re all mushed together and tangled in between moans. My entire body is shaking from being so close as I try my best to hold it back. 

The grin on his face is sinister. “That’s more like it! Keep fucking begging, sweetheart. Say those magic words for me and I’ll let you cum.” His pace is unrelenting, giving me no option other than to hold back my orgasm, which he knows I can’t do for long.. Bastard, he isn’t giving me a choice anymore. 

My breathing becomes ragged as I fight desperately not to cum, but I can’t do it anymore. My eyes fly open wide and just as I’m about to lose control, he pulls out of me all the way. I never thought I’d be so relieved to feel the sensation of my orgasm fading away. I immediately pout at him, my voice barely above a whisper, “I can’t say it, Sir.. It’s too embarrassing. Please, please just let me cum.” 

“Oh, is it embarrassing for you?” He asks, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He wraps a hand in my hair, pulling my head up just a bit and putting his face very close to mine. “You think it’s embarrassing to beg for my cock? To admit that you’re mine and you’ll do anything for me to let you cum?” He slides his fingers inside of me, curling his fingers up towards my g-spot and fingering me violently, putting his entire arm into it, causing my hips to jiggle with the pure force of his movements. “Well, you’re gonna have to get over that embarrassment and beg me the right way, because I’m not stopping until you do, slut.” 

Tears form in my eyes at his words and the fact that he’s yet again working me so quickly towards an orgasm. It’s making my brain start to go fuzzy from all of the edges, slaps, and harsh words. My mouth opens and I can tell that the moans and gasps coming from me are just entertainment for Eddie at this point, because he mockingly moans right back at me, then growls. “Yeah? That feel good baby?” 

I can’t handle it anymore, all of my nerves feel like they’re being set on fire with how much I need to cum right now. I let out a single whimper in defeat, and my eyes drift away from him despite the fact that he’s holding my head up and forcing his face in mine. “Please Sir! Please make me cum…” the second half of my sentence is barely above a whisper, but I know he can hear it. “Like the l-little sl-slut I am.” My cheeks are on fire and I’m sure I am the color of a tomato after I finally say it. 

He sighs with satisfaction, his smirk turning into a huge grin and he finally lets my hair go. Just as I think he’s finally about to let me cum, he pulls his hand out of me yet again. I squirm against the ropes and a single tear falls onto my cheek with pure frustration, looking at him with horror as if he just committed a crime. 

“You’re not getting off that easy. Say it like you mean it, baby. Say it like you’re proud to be my slut.” He slides his cock back into me, both of us emitting a low, guttural groan at the same time. He barely gives me a second to hesitate before slapping me on my cheek again, his voice as sharp as a knife. “Fucking. Say. It.” 

I gasp as he slaps my cheek again before letting out a mix between a moan and a whine in frustration from how torturously slow he’s going. His goal right now is just to keep me teetering on the knife’s edge of an orgasm. I finally give up and cry out, “Please! Please Sir, make me cum like the little slut I am, please! I can’t take it anymore!” 

The smirk that crept back on his face was pure evil. “Good fucking girl!” he groans as he finally picks up the pace, pumping into me deep and hard and fast, slamming into my g-spot with every thrust. As my orgasm finally crashes into me, I practically scream. My back arches as much as it is allowed and I can still hear the sloppy wet sounds of him slamming into me over and over, despite how loud I am. My breath is stolen away from me with how intense it all is, all of those edges making this one orgasm almost unbearable. My limbs keep shaking and fighting against the rope even as my orgasm slows down because my pussy immediately feels overstimulated. My eyes look glossy as tears are filling them again and I can’t stop squirming. “Please stop, please stop, it’s too much! I came, I’m done cumming! Sir I came, now please give me a break!” 

He chuckles at my predicament, leaning down and brushing his lips against my ear as he whispers, “You are mine to use however I want. I’m not going to stop until you’re a sobbing, blubbering mess.” The sound I make at this is in between a cry and a moan, since he is fucking me so hard and fast that I’m immediately being dragged toward another orgasm. The sound I make causes him to groan and add, “And even then, I might not stop. Not until I’m good and ready to stop watching you cum. You have been such a naughty fucking girl today, and I am going to teach you a fucking lesson.” 

I cry out at his words in protest, hopelessly squirming against the restraints as he fucks me closer and closer to my next orgasm. The closer I get, the more uneven my breathing becomes. I look up at him, pleading with him desperately. “Sir, please don’t do this to me! I’ve learned my lesson, I promise!” I can’t help but squeeze my eyes shut, fighting hard to hold back my next orgasm threatening to hit me like a brick wall.

“I don’t believe you,” Eddie growls, thrusting harder as he feels me tensing up beneath him. He looks down at me heartlessly. “You’re going to cum for me. Right now.”

As soon as he tells me, no, fucking commands me to cum, I’m seeing stars. I can feel his eyes locked on my face, committing the look of pleasured agony on my face to memory. My moans are stuck in my throat with the intensity and my entire body is shaking and twitching and squirming. The sounds coming from his cock slamming into my pussy is fucking filthy. As my orgasm slows down, my limbs go limp and I am panting hard, trying like hell to catch my breath. 

He finally pulls out of me, leaving me twitching and whimpering from how hard I just came. My eyes flutter open at him, thanking him wordlessly for finally giving me a break. As I lay there with my chest heaving, believing he’s going to actually have some mercy on me, he lets his eyes trail down my body and fall onto my pussy. More specifically, my swollen and twitching clit. 

The sight makes him look at me like he was just given a new favorite toy. “Oh look, your poor little clit is just begging for my attention. I’ve been so mean to neglect it!” He slowly glides his fingers down my thigh, looking into my eyes and chuckling, “I hope you didn’t think I was done with you, sweetheart.” He quickly removes his own shirt before ever so gently sliding his fingers up and down my folds, before landing on my clit and gently circling it, but not quite touching yet. He leans down and kisses my chest, working his lips all the way down to my pussy, ignoring every one of my whimpers. He places a single, very gentle kiss directly on my clit as a warning for what’s to come, making me jerk and squeal. 

“Please Sir, my I’m way too sensitive for this!” I beg, a full pout on my lips. “I’m too sensitive..” 

Eddie laughs in amusement at my protest. His tongue darts out to flick at my clit, making me gasp and jerk my hips again. “Oh baby,” he breathes, “You’re always too sensitive for me.” He smirks and flattens his tongue, slowly licking from the very bottom of my entrance to the top of my clit, making me squirm and whine, unable to peel my eyes off of him. He suddenly pulls back, bringing his hand down to slap me 5 sharp times on my pussy, which makes me throw my head back with a long groan and flinch with every hit. “I don’t remember asking for your fucking opinion, though, slut.” He leans back down, placing his lips directly over my clit and sucking just barely, before rolling his tongue slowly. He only gives me about 2 seconds of soft touches before starting his assault. He violently lashes his tongue against my clit, then starts sucking hard, rolling his tongue with force. 

I squeak and jerk, before ungodly sounds start falling from my mouth. My arms and legs pull against their restraints and I do my very best to buck my hips away from his ministrations. I’m babbling nonsense and moaning lewdly, already fully overstimulated and he’s barely even started eating me out.

He groans at the sight of me squirming, sending vibrations through my clit. He’s unable to stop himself from groaning out some more as he hears every one of my incoherent babbles for mercy. He keeps going at a steady pace, pushing me close to another orgasm. He could spend days down there, the sound and sight of me right now just too sweet for him to not enjoy every single second of it.

I’m internally panicking as I near the edge of another orgasm. My breathing is fast and shallow and I can barely get a single word of my begging to actually sound like a real word. “Please, please no this is too intense! I can’t!” I pant out, praying he can understand me between my moaning and panting and how much I’m stuttering through my words. 

Eddie chuckles darkly at my pleas, happy that he’s got me exactly where he wants me. He pulls back just enough to lick a long strip up my entire pussy again and looks up at me with a smirk. When I look back at him, I gasp slightly. His eyes are fucking black, his pupils are so huge that all the pretty brown in his eyes have disappeared. There wasn’t a single ounce of leniency in his features. “You can’t handle it, huh?” he taunts, laughing. “It’s too intense, baby?” He pouts at me mockingly, using his fingertips to gently rub my clit, keeping me from getting a real break, but I’m grateful to be able to catch my breath at least.

I whimper at him pathetically and nod, looking at him with tears threatening to spill out of my eyes. “Yes! Please, please no more Sir, it is too intense, it is! I won’t be able to handle cumming like this!” My words are flying out of my mouth as fast as I can say them, hoping beyond all hope that he listens to me this time.

He watches me intently as I beg and the tears threatening to spill down my face are obvious, but his eyes don’t soften one bit. If anything, they seem to somehow darken even more. He shakes his head slowly, his lips curling into another sinister smile as he whispers, “Oh, it’s so cute when you beg me like that. I think you’re finally starting to learn your lesson in respect.” And with that, he returns his tongue to my clit, thrashing it cruelly against me and wrapping his lips around, sucking and rolling his tongue to elicit more sweet, desperate cries from my mouth. 

I let out a strangled moan as soon as he continues, and my orgasm hits me almost immediately. I struggle and thrash against the restraints, this orgasm feeling 100 times more intense than the others. Tears fall onto my cheeks as the pleasure turns into pure torture, words lost in my throat yet again as all I can do is scream and moan and take it. 

His tongue works up a frenzy, not giving me a moment's rest as he forces my orgasm to be drawn out as long as he can. When I finally come down from my high, he looks up at me to see my ruined face. Pink cheeks, tear stains, red and swollen lips from how much I’ve been chewing on them. His hand moves to gently rub my pussy lips, licking his lips at the sight of me. “That’s it, my little slut. You belong to me. I can do whatever I want with you. Right?” 

His question is a test, and I am desperate to pass with flying colors. “Yes! Yes Sir, I belong to you! You own me, please!” I look at him with pleading eyes, a few tears leaking down my cheeks again as my legs tremble uncontrollably.

To my utter relief, his eyes finally soften towards me and he smiles up at me. He pulls himself up to kiss my lips gently, slowly sliding two fingers inside of me, thrusting them deep and hard, but slow. “That’s it, good girl. I’m so glad to see you’ve finally learned your manners, baby.” He pulls back to watch me, enjoying the sight of me being so submissive as he slowly slides his fingers in and out of me with force. After a minute or so, he talks gently to me. “I’m going to leave you tied up, sweetheart. I know you’re being good now, but you understand that I have to finish your punishment, right? I can’t let you off the hook just because you’re finally being my good girl.” 

I’m so grateful that he’s finally being gentle with me that it takes me a good few seconds to process what he says. My eyes are glossed over and my brain is so fuzzy; I can feel myself drifting into subspace with every passing moment. He can see it in me too, he knows me so well. I sniffle when I finally realize what he’s said and he’s expecting a response, slowly nodding my head. My voice is hoarse from all the sounds I’ve been making. “Yes Sir. I’m sorry Sir.” 

He hums, visibly pleased with my response. “That’s better baby, I know you are.” He pulls his fingers out of me before standing up, turning towards the night stand again. He opens up a drawer and pulls out my arch nemesis: The Magic Wand. I can never handle that without begging and sobbing for mercy, even without it being a part of a punishment. Even when he tries to be nice, it’s always too much. 

He turns back towards me, searching my face for any sign of resistance, just to make sure that I really have learned my lesson and I plan on being a good girl. The second I see the wand my cunt clenches and I let out the tiniest whimper, gulping nervously. A single tear falls down my cheek again and he brings his hand up to wipe it away. “I know baby, I know.” He says softly before turning around and plugging it into the wall. 

The moment he turns back around and switches it on, he presses it against my clit, watching every single expression on my face. I jerk against the restraints and feel like the wind has been knocked out of my lungs. He bites his lip for a second before groaning out, “Ohh, that’s it baby. Feel that?” I can only whine at him in response, struggling to keep my eyes on his but somehow I manage, although tears are threatening to spill out any second from the overstimulation. “You’re going to cum so hard for me, aren’t you baby?” He presses it into my clit more, making tiny circles, causing me to cry out and arch my back, my entire body pulling against the restraints whether I want them to or not.

“Yes!” I cry out in response to him, although it barely sounds like a word. My entire body feels like it’s being electrocuted, and I can’t help but shake violently as I’m being thrust into an orgasm within seconds of him asking. A scream rips itself out of my throat and I feel like I’m going to explode. Eddie’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he hears me, groaning out, “That’s right, fucking scream for me.” 

I feel like this orgasm is never going to end. My vision is going black, or maybe my eyes are just squeezed shut, I can’t even tell anymore. The way I scream is absolutely primal, tears rolling down my face and my crying turns to sobbing. My entire body is full of electricity and suddenly, I feel it. My body is fucking convulsing (as much as it can against the rope, anyway) as fluid starts squirting from my pussy. I feel it pool up underneath me and I hear a gasp and a groan from Eddie. “Thaaaat’s it baby, look at you fucking go!” he sounds like he could cum just from the sight of me. As soon as it ends, he finally turns the vibrator off and pulls it away. I feel like I can finally fill my lungs with oxygen again.

 When my eyes open, Eddie and I stare at each other with the exact same look of utter shock on our faces. That’s the first time I have ever done that. His look of surprise is short-lived though because when he sees the mess I’ve made on his hand, he drops the vibrator to inspect his hand in the light. He licks off every finger with a smack of his lips and a wicked fucking grin on his face. My face is frozen still, especially after seeing him do that. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he breathes, staring down at me with a mixture of awe and something wild in his eyes. 

I close my eyes and a few more tears fall out onto my cheeks as my breathing is still a bit ragged. I feel his hands gently wipe away my tears and he whispers, “Baby, look at me.” My eyes flutter open halfway, nibbling my bottom lip. “Color?” He asks, his eyes look so warm and caring at this moment. I lean into his hand on my cheek with a tiny smile and a sniffle.

“Green.. I promise I’m okay. That was just… I don’t know if I can do that again.” I shake my head at him to emphasize my words, but I feel much more grounded after the check-in. 

He smiles gently at me, nodding back as his expression softens. “I know baby, I know that was a lot. But you’re doing so well.” He puts two fingers under my chin, making sure my eyes stay trained on his so that I really hear every word. “You can do this, sweetheart. I know you can.” He leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead before lifting back up, a stern expression on his face again. “Now. I want you to repeat after me. Say ‘Please Sir, I want you to make me cum like that again.’” He watches me closely, licking his lips as he waits for my response.

I close my eyes as he kisses my forehead, nodding through his encouragement. But my eyes fly right back open with his last demand and my voice gets caught in my throat again. Even as fucked out and obedient as I am now, my heart rate spikes at the thought of having to do… that again. Still, I swallow hard before somehow forcing the words out. “Please, Sir… I want you to make me cum like that again.” My lower lip is quivering as I whimper the words out. 

He groans as I say this, his cock twitching noticeably. His lips suddenly crash into mine, kissing me roughly. As he pulls back, he’s got that wild look in his eyes again as they trace over every inch of my body. “That’s my good girl. I’m going to make you cum one more time while I use that throat of yours.” He climbs onto the bed again, facing away from the headboard and putting each of his legs on either side of my head. I open my mouth and stick my tongue out, the heavenly sound of his own moan flooding my ears as he slowly lowers himself into my mouth, making sure to glide himself all along my tongue on the way in. He pumps his cock in and out of my mouth at a steady pace, slowly working its way towards my throat. After a couple minutes of this, he feels himself getting close to his own release. He leans over and grabs the wand again, turning it on and growling, “Get ready, slut. Knock on the headboard if you really need to breathe.”

He shoves his cock deep into my throat and I can’t help but gag, struggling to breathe through my nose and relax the muscles in my throat. “Fuck!” he groans out, before he pulls the hood of my clit back, something he knows is the most cruel thing he could do, and presses the wand firmly into my clit. Every single muscle in my body cries out in agony, begging to be allowed to squirm away from the sensation. I try to scream out but it makes me gag, and I lose my ability to breathe at all as my lungs refuse to work anymore from all of the stimulation. Too much stimulation. My brain feels like it’s short circuiting. Just as my lungs are starting to burn from lack of oxygen, I cum somehow even harder than I did the last time. I feel like I’m on fire and being shot up into icy space at the same time. I can’t move, I can’t scream, I can only cum. Once again, I feel myself start to squirt, and it all becomes too much. I start gagging on him again, and I hear him fucking whimper before groaning. His cum shoots down my throat and I have no choice but to swallow it. 

He turns the vibrator off and throws it to the side, pulling his cock out quickly as I gasp for breath, taking in huge gulps of air as he makes quick work of my restraints. He slowly guides my arms down and gently rubs my shoulders, then helps me close my legs and gently rubs my hips. He whispers, “I know baby, I know,” as I wince from the pain of finally being able to move my limbs and them being so sore. 

The second he looks me in the eyes and is about to ask how I feel, my vision goes blurry and I’m confused for a second before I actually realize I’m crying again. I can’t stop it though, my body is so exhausted and my brain is so fuzzy and every part of me is buzzing and sore. He instantly wraps me up in his arms, cradling my head against my chest and kissing my head. “Good girl,” he whispers to me, and his voice back to the normal, sweet and kind Eddie I hear every day. “You are such a good girl, I am so fucking proud of you, baby.” 

This was easily the most intense punishment I have ever been through, and he knows it. I’ve never squirted before in my life. I can barely even hear him whispering reassuring words to me over my own ragged breathing and sniffles, but I do notice that I am clinging onto him for dear life. He holds me close, rocking me gently back and forth. He kisses me on the top of my head again, and his voice starts to soothe every ounce of unrest in my body.

“Shh, shh.. It’s okay baby, I know it was rough, that was a really hard lesson. But you did so good.. I’m so so proud of you, baby.” He slowly takes his hand off of my head, leaning back enough so that he can wipe away the tears on my cheeks with his thumbs. Then he cups my cheeks in his hands and kisses all over my face. He starts at my forehead, then my nose, then both of my cheeks, and over my eyes. He is so gentle with every kiss, and about halfway through my tears stop falling and a little tiny giggle escapes my lips. 

I open my eyes to look up at him and his heart breaks when he sees my eyes red from so many tears and my cheeks absolutely covered in tear stains and blotchy pink skin. “Was that too much for you?” he whispers, talking so softly, as if his tone itself could blow me away if it was too loud or firm.

I smile softly and shake my head, still sniffling but just barely. His eyes look so pretty, I could get lost in them and never want to find my way out. His eyebrows are furrowed with concern and I can see his eyes scanning my every feature to make sure I really am okay. My heart swells about a thousand times its normal size. “No, it wasn’t too much, Eddie. It was so, so good. It was easily the most intense thing I’ve ever felt in my life, but it wasn’t too much. I promise. I just need lots of love now, okay?” I smile at him again with a little scrunch of my nose, trying to make extra sure he knows I really am okay. 

Eddie lets out a shaky breath but I can see the relief on his face as he brings my head into his chest again, holding his hand there to cradle it as he tickles gentle circles across my back with his other hand. “I’m right here, baby. I’m right here. I’ve got you. I love you so much.” 

I close my eyes again because the sensation on my back feels like heaven. I mumble into his skin, “I love you too. So much, Eddie.” I start trying to regulate my breathing, every deep inhale brings his delicious scent of woodsy musk and cigarettes. Once I feel like I’m returning back into a normal headspace, I pull back a little and show him my wrists and point to my legs. They’re still red and indented from the rope. “Can you help these feel better please?” 

He smiles softly down at me, his eyes and fingers running over every single mark on my skin, before nodding. “Of course, baby. Let’s go into the bathroom and I’ll take care of you.” He gets off the bed before picking me up and helping me wrap my legs around him. I press my face into his neck and wrap my arms around him and can’t help but smile. I could honestly live like this, in his embrace. Smelling his skin. His hair tickling my face. Feeling his chest against mine. It’s all perfection.

Once we get to the bathroom, he slowly puts me down and spins me gently to face the mirror. He looks into it at me, smiling and petting my hair to smooth it down. “There’s my pretty girl,” he murmurs, “You are so perfect.” My face turns a bright ride and I hide my face in my hands, unable to help myself. 

“Eddie!” I giggle out. He always knows how to make me smile and completely fluster me at the same time. I gently peek at him in the mirror through my fingers, his smile is so sweet as he watches me. He chuckles at my reaction, gently placing his hands on my hips and spinning me around to look at him. I lower my hands and stare into his eyes, practically entranced.

“You’re so cute, baby.” He smiles and kisses my forehead again, bringing each of my hands into his and up to his lips, kissing each one so gently. He guides me over to sit down on the toilet seat, before turning to the tub and turning on the water. “Let’s get you all cleaned up, yeah?” 

As I sit down and watch the tub start to fill, I nod and lean forward to rest my head against his side, wanting to never stop touching him. “Yeah…yes please, I’d love a bath.” 

We wait in silence for a few minutes before he checks the temperature. Deeming it perfect, he grabs my hands again to help guide me towards the tub. As I sit down and relax into the water, he smiles at me and says, “Ahhhhh, that’s better, isn’t it? Feel good baby?” 

I nod and smile up at him and watch as he grabs the shower head to bring it down. He sits down next to the tub, turning on the shower head and he is so careful about wetting my hair without letting water drip onto my face. 

He takes his time, massaging my scalp slowly and with the perfect pressure as he shampoos it. After another few minutes of silence, I hear him starting to hum one of the songs from that Black Sabbath album, Master of Reality. I can’t tell which song it is, though. My eyes start to droop and I giggle a little at the end of the song as he’s slowly rinsing the soap out of my hair.

“You’re going to make me fall asleep if you keep this up, you know. Warm water, massages, and music? You’re spoiling me, Eddie.” I say, my eyes closed still to make sure no soap or water gets into my eyes as he rinses my hair off.

He chuckles softly at me, pressing a kiss to my now-clean hair. “I could do this for hours, baby. Plus, you deserve to be spoiled. Trust me.” I sigh in content and lean into his kiss, feeling utter bliss in the calm of the moment. 

Once he is done making every inch of me nice and clean, continuing the whole time to give me praise and making sure he is absolutely as gentle as he can be, he drains the tub for me and helps me stand up. He wraps me in a towel and gives me a great big hug, and it takes him a few seconds to let go. He picks me up again, bridal style this time, and brings me back to the bedroom despite my giggling at him that I am able to use my feet again. 

“I know you can, but I’ve got you baby, don’t you even worry about it.” He presses another kiss into the side of my head, which is probably the thousandth kiss of the evening. Not that I’m complaining for a second. He helps me get dressed into my comfiest pajamas and then dresses himself in boxers and a random t-shirt. He turns to me when he’s finished, cocking his head at me with a smile.

“So…I call for pizza, you pick the movie?” he asks, already reaching for the phone. Yeah… I’m so spoiled.

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

Tag Request: @tlclick73

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

Copyright Disclaimer

All content on this post, excluding the images and characters, is the property of the blog owner and is protected by United States and international copyright laws.

You may not copy, reproduce, distribute, modify, publish, or create derivative works from any material on this website without the express written permission of the website owner.

If you violate the terms of this copyright disclaimer, you may be liable for damages, including but not limited to reasonable attorneys' fees.

[affixjoy]

Here’s a list of all my Star Trek fics!

Spirk

Wanna be the one that you want to see aka the Spirk sex tropes one. My most popular Trek fic on ao3 and one I’m particularly proud of!

Spectacles painted with my shaking hand aka the one with the oranges and sexy oil

I thought I saw you smile aka the snw body swap fic

We need disposable towels in the gym aka my funniest fic, the one where the Enterprise HR has to deal with ALL the sex happening on board.

Risks and Rewards aka the one with the unstoppable spontaneous orgasms

And Stars May Collide aka my very self indulgent fic where Spirk lives through the movie Moulin Rouge due to alien dream bullshit

Spock vs the IT guy aka Spock feuds with the IT guy and finally hooks up with Kirk

The Upside of Rumors aka the one where the crew makes spreadsheets and bets over where Spock and Kirk are together

And with one heart I reached for you aka the one where Sam’s ghost checks in on Spirk

Star Trek Drabbles aka 100 word warm up of Spirk

Strange New Dicks aka the one where Spock’s dick changes every chapter for Vulcan bonding purposes

McKirk

We both had a hand in it (you and me both kid) aka the one where Jim leaves a vibrator in Bones’ bed.

Hunt me down, catch in my throat, make me pray aka not even the hint of plot, this is only porn.

Spones

Nothing that shouldn’t have happened long ago aka what I think happened between Spock and Bones after the TOS episode All Our Yesterdays

Handle Me With Care aka the one where Bones has to remove his own appendix aka the one that was in the nsfw Sponeszine

McSpirk

A Most Fascinating Experience aka McSpirk pwp with a lot of dirty talk from Bones.

Sometimes a feeling is all we have to go on aka the one where Bones can’t come.

and yes I said yes I will Yes aka that time I decided to bring together mcspirk, Pon Farr, and that sexy capital Y from Molly Bloom’s soliloquy

Keep our minds on the sun of each other aka my aos McSpirk featuring some fun made up Vulcan meditation rituals for Spock to use to romance Bones.

A heart should always go one step too far aka voyeur Bones, possibly my steamiest fic?

Leap beyond logic aka the end of the TMP divorce era

Take me places I’ve never known aka snw era getting together, the one where Jim gets confused about what Spock’s genital situation is

You know we’ll have a good time then aka the one where Kirk and Spock get Joanna’s age VERY wrong

Spuhotty

Spock The Liar aka the one where Snw Spock hooks up with Uhura and Scotty, pure pwp

Amanda/Sarek

Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time aka Amanda and Sarek getting together fic, wip but will hopefully be done soon

[yuoimia]

DAY 7: A LITTLE SOMETHING ❅⋆⍋

summary: they can get a little overboard with gifts, especially for you.

characters: ayato, kaeya, wanderer, zhongli.

notes: gn! reader, last sentence in ayato’s is suggestive, wc: 120-200 per paragraph.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ dreamy december event masterlist

ayato

If faced with the prospects of going on a little rendezvous to a market or enduring a lengthy cooking class with Ayato, you’d gladly risk the guarantee of waking up with an upset stomach.

At first, the answer to the choices seem almost obvious, you don’t even need to think twice before coming to a conclusion. Why would anyone face the risk of food poisoning in comparison to a harmless shopping trip?

You sincerely, from the bottom of your heart, are thankful and cherish every single one of the gifts Ayato never failed to starve you of, selected with the most detailed and precise of observations and preferences. Your workspaces are graced with the most refreshing pieces of decor, your bewitching collection of accessories is always the most elegant and entrancing, and your wardrobe, perhaps the most elaborative and extensive out of all, owns the most divine pieces of fabrics and fibres too substantial to comprehend.

Frankly, it shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise when you tell Ayato to lower his budget, which, as he strongly believes, is a sacrifice towards his serotonin. Eventually, through trailing kisses, hasty promises and faltering sighs, you two finally come to an agreement.

kaeya

Kaeya earnestly explains, over and over, that can’t help it, that you should be placing the blame on the sellers for luring him yet again into purchasing. The harsh burden of having a generous soul, he sighs. Can’t you feel an ounce of pity for him? Besides, he truly can’t help that, “there were just so many things that reminded me of you.”

To be brutally honest, Kaeya’s only motive for these ceaseless piles of presents was purely out of self-indulgence. It was quite selfish, yes, but the pleasure didn’t derive from the shopping, it wasn’t to satisfy his spontaneous decision-making when it came to such matters, but rather the gleeful radiance shining from your face whenever he came home with something in hand. How you attempted to reserve yourself and not seem overly excited, and Kaeya delights that he can see right through you.

The only way to understand his strange way of thinking was to picture yourself in his shoes. Would you do the same if it promised such a reaction from Kaeya?

wanderer

Wanderer is the pure embodiment of the phrase, “actions speak louder than words.” Secrecy travels with every move he makes, every action he meticulously plans. It weaves into the reasoning of the most minuscule of tasks when it comes to you; he can’t refrain from it. Striving for perfection entrusts some sort of validation seeping into the ventricles of his heart, before pumping out avid determination, a desire to exceed after each result, one grander and more adoring than the last.

The gifts he pledges aren’t a mere reimbursement for his lack of sweet nothings or public hand-holding, they’re something much more sentimental with enigmatic depth, a beautifully tied bow unravelling cryptic messages that only sweeten as time ticks along. It’s summarised within a few careful judgements, courtesy of his impeccable ability to read your emotions, those gifts are, and will always make your smile a thousand times more genuine than any sugarcoated words or physical affection in the eyes of him and you.

zhongli

Working as a consultant at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor must bestow the blessing of generous income and time.

It’s the only explanation for this growing observation: the handy wallet somehow never running out of mora (though you admit, he can be quite forgetful of it), and the suggested galore of unlimited spare time, which certainly must be the reasoning behind why Zhongli can afford to obtain such bountiful amounts of precious treasures that always leave you breathless.

Quite often, his indulgence results in a slicing feeling of guilt, leaving you in a state of burrowing gloom, overthinking the matter until the idea is reduced to a singular strand of disregard. After all, the little trinkets are simply harmless expressions of love, even if they occasionally overflow your doorway.

[sashaisready]

The Blood Pact (completed)

Bucky Barnes Vampire AU x Female Reader

Reeling from a bad break-up, you're desperately trying to find a new place to live but the Brooklyn rental market is a complete nightmare. You take a chance on an intriguing newspaper ad and enquire about a room in a shared house, where you'd be living with two mysterious men. The catch is that they want something other than your money for you to pay the rent...the one thing they don't have

Hello! This is a vampire AU set in present day in Brooklyn. Just a heads up that vampire Bucky is kinda an asshole in this one, not always as nice to reader as he should be - so prepare for some angst! He does soften up, though. Maybe a little enemies to lovers sprinkled in there, my fave.

Peter Quill is also reader's terrible ex, so he's not his usual charming self! Apologies if he's your fave. But Steve is very sweet and offsets the meanness somewhat, thankfully.

Warnings: Smut and sexual references, violence, detailed descriptions of vampires biting/drinking blood, swearing, insecurity and low self esteem for reader, hints at an emotionally abusive past relationship, references to past cheating, alcohol use, some bad treatment of reader by Bucky, injury/near death, potentially dubcon as it could be argued the vampire/human dynamic is on shaky ground in that sense - but reader is an enthusiastic participant. These warnings are not exhaustive so please proceed at your own risk.

In my head this Bucky is Civil War era Bucky - beefy with longer hair, but of course you are free to picture your favourite Bucky incarnation - that's the beauty of fic! Reader is fem, generally undescribed but has hair long enough to be in her face.

And yeah it’s purely self indulgent sexy vampire shit. Apologies.

If you enjoyed this series and would like to buy me a coffee, here's my Ko-Fi link 💐

🩸

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

[abibliophobiaa]

Beyond — s.h. x f!reader

Chapter Seven: Better Together

a/n: here’s chapter seven of my purely self-indulgent fun — a little later than i anticipated because i was sick and got a little derailed. modern day!rich!fake husband!steve harrington x afab!reader.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, fingering, and a whole lot of praise. (7k words)

masterlist

——

Life returns to normal after the gala. Or—mostly normal. You wake in the mornings, greet your husband as he sips his coffee, and you…don’t kiss. And it’s not like you don’t want to; in fact, you do. Really, really badly. One time isn’t enough. Suddenly you’re addicted to the taste of him, and yet you’ve only gotten the smallest hint. A tease at what could be. 

When you returned to your home after the gala, Charlie greeted you both at the door with a bark and a demand for endless pets and cuddles. You’d curled up on the couch as always, you in your dress and him in his tuxedo, with Charlie sprawled out across both your laps. 

Both of you had taken turns looking at one another when you’d thought the other wasn’t paying attention. Would watch Steve’s profile, count the dots on his skin, wonder if he’d lean in if you traced them with your mouth. Wondered what sound he’d make if you ventured further, southward against his neck, and trailed the marks you knew were there as well. And as you’d look down at Charlie, Steve would look at you, watching as though you were far more entertaining than any movie he’d put on.  

Later that evening he’d stood by your doorway and thanked you for joining him that afternoon, leaned down and kissed your forehead, and you’d slipped into your bedroom and changed. When you returned, he remained at your bedroom door, mouth opened to speak to say something, anything, and yet no words had come out. Only the sounds of his struggle. 

So you stepped forward and curled your arms around his waist. Thanked him for a beautiful night, for dancing with you, for being there for you. And then you’d closed your bedroom door and listened as Steve called Charlie into his bedroom, your own hand reaching over your bed side table to shut the lights off, enveloping the room in darkness. 

It carried on like that for days. 

Then weeks. 

You wondered if Steve regretted it all. 

 ——

 Steve hated meetings. The endless meetings. Meetings that kept him away from home, away from comfortability, away from Charlie, away from you. 

It’s a reality that crept upon him slowly, and then swiftly all at once. This realization that he’d rather jump and fall with you than never have taken a risk and jumped at all. Found himself willing to do all of that with you. Trusted you enough to be gentle with him, even despite all your teasing, your jabs, your barbs. 

But now he wants to make sure you know just what this all means to him. Wants to make sure you don’t go a day without knowing that, even though his life is in a constant state of immediacy and pressure from those around him, you’re important. You’re deserving of feeling loved, appreciated, and valued every day. 

“Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Harrington,” Hailey, his assistant, asks from behind her computer screen. 

“Can you have flowers sent to my address?”

There’s a knowing smile on her face as she asks, “For your wife?”

“For my wife,” he says, and though it’s been your title for months now, it makes his mouth run dry, because there’s the deeper meaning of possibly more now. 

What exactly that more might be is still to be determined, but more nonetheless. 

“Red roses are nice this time of year,” she muses. “Do you want me to have a card written out as well?”

 ——

 Honey, 

I’m sorry I’ve been so holed up with work. With the holidays coming up, things are extra chaotic. I know you’ve been really wanting a spa and nail day for yourself, so I made you an appointment for three tomorrow. Before you argue with me, you deserve it. Please. For me?

The card is signed at the bottom with ‘your husband,’ and you nearly crush the card stock to your chest, smiling down at the bouquet of fresh roses you’ve already set on your kitchen table. 

Charlie lifts his head, collar jingling as he clambers to his feet and stops near your hip. Dropping down to your knees, you rub at his floppy ears, grin still stretching your lips. 

“Charlie Boy, you really do have the best doggy dad.” He licks at your chin, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth as you giggle airily. “We are pretty lucky, aren’t we?”

 ——

 By the time you return from your massage and nail appointment, and the private elevator leading to the penthouse dings, your home already smells wonderful. And the sight that greets you—even better. 

Steve’s frantically running around the kitchen, calling out, “Honey, you’re early!”

“What is happening here?” You walk into the kitchen, a little mystified as Steve rushes forward and brushes a kiss along your temple, your hand coming up to rest on his sternum in wide eyed shock. He’s already set up the kitchen table, wine glasses filled with red wine, candles lit, placemats set out and the dishes you got from your bridal shower on display. “Flowers and dinner?”

“It was supposed to be ready by the time you got home. But Charlie was acting up on his walk. I looked into those puppy training classes, but I want to go to one where I can be there with him.” He pauses, laying the towel he has draped over his shoulder onto the countertop, pulling you into your normal hug whenever you come home from quite literally anywhere. “I thought…well, I know I’ve been busy, and we haven’t exactly had a chance to spend much time together. So I figured I’d make us dinner and we could eat it, you know, together.” 

You glance up at him through your lashes, noting the hand that comes up behind his neck to rub nervously. “With candles?” 

“So I thought it could also—but only if you want it to—be a…date?” 

“We’re married,” you point out, wanting to watch him squirm just a little bit more. Because you know what he means. 

“We are, yeah. But…I figured after the gala there were some tougher conversations we might need to have. Unless you wanted to pretend it didn’t happen, which in that case I understand—”

He’s silenced by your hand gliding up and across his chest, curling at the nape of his neck, and dragging him flush against you, lips gliding softly over his own. When you pull back, his eyes flutter rapidly, tops of his cheeks staining the same color of the fresh tomatoes he has open in a container on the kitchen counter. 

Brow arching, your fingers still around the back of his neck, you ask, “Need further clarification?”

“Maybe?” 

He swallows, curling an arm around the small of your back. He noses at your cheek, your skin prickling in anticipation as he slots his lips over yours again. Warm, gentle, inviting. A sigh spills from you as your pocketbook drops to the ground, your other hand joining the one around Steve’s neck, chests closing in tight, hips flush together.  

“Steve…you made me dinner,” you muse, smiling as his forehead rests against yours, swaying you back and forth to the music he is playing from a speaker on the countertop. 

The backs of his knuckles brush the line of your temple, your cheek. “I’ve made you dinner before.”

“But not like this. With all the wine and candles.”

“Well, I was trying to make a grand gesture.” 

“Just like with my little spa day?” Your heart kicks up at that. Threatens to grow wings and fly away. Because he’s gone out of the way to do this. For you—for you. 

“Yes,” he admits. “I’m—I haven’t done this in a long time. I had to ask my assistant for some tips, so I hope you’ll go easy on me.” 

He’s laughing, but you know Steve. You know he means his words. Know enough about him to tell that when he makes a decision, he commits to it, wants to go above and beyond, and works his hardest at it. So when he says he wanted to make a grand gesture, that he even sought out outside advice, you know he’s sincere.

And you know whatever this is, whatever is brewing between the two of you, is delicate. It needs the space to grow, to be nurtured and tended to, if only so it can bloom into all it’s meant to be. If it’s meant to be. 

“Well, you’re doing amazingly,” you tell him, hands sliding down from the back of his neck to rest against his chest. 

The rapid thump of his heart beats beneath your fingertips, not wholly unaffected by the newness of touch, of…whatever new shape your marriage is beginning to take on. His fingers slide over the back of yours, brushing over your knuckles, his eyes lingering on your face with an intensity that has your throat running dry. 

That is, until Charlie notes your presence and barrels into the kitchen, paws slamming into your hip, demanding a proper hug. There to oblige him, you brush at his floppy ears, your side to Steve’s chest, one of his arms around you, the other also ruffling Charlie’s floppy head, pink puppy tongue lapping over unassuming fingers. Once the little guy is satisfied, you maneuver around Steve and tug your rings free from your finger, quickly washing your hands before sliding them back into place. 

Steve watches you intently as you wiggle the stones into place on the digit, admiring them for a moment. “You look beautiful, by the way.” 

“If I’d known we were having dinner by candlelight, I’d have worn something a little nicer,” you tell him, waving a hand around your figure, to the pair of dark wash jeans on your thighs and the slouchy knit sweater that hangs a little loosely off of one shoulder. All gifts from your mother-in-law’s business. 

He's still wearing his slacks, having had to go to a job site despite it being Saturday and your favorite powdery blue button up he wears. Brings out the greenness in his hazel eyes, a fact you only know because that spill you’d taken on the treadmill some weeks ago now, and the kiss at the gala, where you’d gazed into them long after he kissed you, marveling at the man.  

“You look perfect,” he reassures you, gripping your shoulders and leading you into the living room. “Dinner should be ready in about thirty minutes, so you kick your feet up, I already put out your slippers and some of your cozy socks you like. And give me one second and I’ll grab you your glass of water. Oh—and here’s a blanket.”

“Steve.” You laugh as your husband whirls around you like a storm, gathering all the things he mentions as he goes. “Are you sure you don’t need any help?” 

“No, no.” He rushes back over with your water and places it in your hand. “You just relax.” 

And you’re not about to argue with your husband. Not when he looks like this, hair windswept, facial hair freshly trimmed, forearms on full display because he’s spent the better part of the afternoon preparing a home cooked meal for you. For your date night. 

True to his word, your meal is ready a half hour later, his form appearing before you, one hand outstretched for you to take. He helps you to your feet, making room for you at his side, and walks you the distance to your kitchen table. He’s dimmed the lights a bit more, the candle on the table bathing the room in an orange firelight. The man in question slides your chair out and gestures for you to sit despite your protesting, and pushes you in closer to the table once you’ve sat. 

He then rushes around to the other side of the table and sits across from you, gesturing to the various things he has strewn about on the table. 

Your bowls are already full of fresh spaghetti, sauce just the way you prefer. There are meatballs in one glass container, and cheese in another bowl beside. He’s even made garlic bread, which rests in a little basket you’d received for your bridal shower. Everything smells delicious, makes your mouth water as you lift your wine glass and raise it in the air, waiting for Steve to clink his glass against yours. 

“This all looks and smells so amazing, Steve. Seriously.” 

Grateful. You’re immensely grateful as the two of you start to dig into your meals, quiet chatter about your days shared over glasses of wine, spaghetti, and delicious garlic bread. He talks about the newest build on a property, and you explain your week of clinicals ahead, and the desire for your Thanksgiving break to finally approach so you can have some real time to simply relax and just be. 

“That reminds me,” he begins, sipping his water. “My mom is doing Thanksgiving at her house this year. It’ll be a small event. Just my grandmother and Theobald, Cami and their kids. Unless we wanted to go back to Hawkins? It’s really up to you…I haven’t told my mom our plans.”

“My dad and Caroline are actually going to spend the weekend with my grandmother. I figured we would be doing something with your family, so I told my dad we’d be around for the holidays at some point—if that’s okay.” 

“Absolutely,” he says, brushing his fingers over yours where they lay interlaced in the middle of the table. “Splitting the holidays. That was easy enough.”

“We’re getting good at this, Harrington,” you tease. 

“That was my next…topic of conversation.” The status of your relationship. The questions as to what this is and isn’t. The decisions of where you go from here. 

“Right.” You place your fork down against your bowl, swallowing thickly. “So there was the gala.”

“That happened.” His fingers brush yours again, a comforting sweep. Back and forth, back and forth, like a sweet little metronome. “So I guess the question is…what do we want it to mean? Because I want to start by making it clear to you that I do, uh, have feelings for you.”

Chest tightening, you grip his fingers tighter, feeling the corners of your smile tick upwards. “I have feelings for you too. So…now that we have that out of the way…”

“I want to do more of this. Buying you flowers and going out together alone. On real dates. No business obligations attached. Just spending time with you, getting to know you, exploring this.”

“I’d like that.”

“And I want to do this,” he says, squeezing your fingers. Then, he leans over the top of the table to brush your lips briefly with his mouth. “And that, if you’d like to.” 

Your eyes flutter open, chest rising and falling rapidly. “I’m…very open to all of that.”

“We don’t complicate it with more labels.”

“We just let things happen the way they’re meant to.”

Let the pieces fall where they may. Without the pressure of placing any expectation on it. Exploring the parameters of your relationship while legally married, knowing either way at the end of it all you can go your separate ways. It’s a terrifying risk, but you know in your heart it’s worth it to at least try.

“Exactly.” 

“Sounds like a deal, Mr. Harrington. We should shake on it.” He holds out his hand between the two of you jokingly, but you’re leaning in once more, breath teasing along his lower lip, and he knows you’re not interested in sealing this deal with a mere handshake. Instead, you seal it with a kiss, resting in the warmth of his skin against your own. 

A little breathless when he pulls away, Steve whispers, “Pleasure doing business with you, Mrs. Harrington.” 

 ——

 You’re no expert on Steve Harrington. Not by any means, even after the five months you’ve now been married. Since the moment you decide to begin a real relationship, you start to really explore the intricacies of your husband. He’s a morning person, he likes things a certain way, and he can tend to get flustered easily—though he won’t let it show. You can still sense it in the tension in his shoulders, the furrow of his brows, the clench of his jaw. And today, as you sit on your living room couch with Charlie’s head resting on your thigh, and a book on the other, you sense it in the way he walks into your home with a hollow stare. 

The way he buries his face in Charlie’s neck as he enters the living room and the puppy knocks him onto the ground. The way his eyes are red rimmed as he finally extricates himself from the flailing set of paws on the ground and makes his way over to where you sit, kissing you in greeting. Your hand slides up to cup his cheek, tilting his head to look at him—to really look at him. His cheeks are damp, and your heart nearly cracks down the center at the implication there. 

Briefly, you imagine your husband’s forearms straining as he grips the steering wheel in his car. Imagine the tears he must have hid in his car before coming up to see you. Because he hadn’t wanted you to see. Not really. Always so bright and loving, always so strong for you. 

“Steve?” It comes out as a whisper, and he’s turning his head from you, his breath a shaky inhale as he tips his head to the ceiling. “Are you—”

“I’m going to go get ready for bed. Long day, I just want to get to bed early. Rain check on our movie?” 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, frown growing. “Sure.”

He’s gone. Disappears from the room without another word, leaving you in the solitude of the unknowing. The wondering if he’s okay, what he’s thinking, if there’s anything you can do to help improve his mood. With the click of his bedroom door in the distance, you try to focus on your book, on the television playing in the background, on Charlie’s breathing. But the longer you go without him, the more you fret. Wanting to be near him, if only to be there as a presence, as something who cares for the brooding man down the hall. 

Resolve settling into place, you toss your things into the kitchen sink and make your way down the hall, gather some clothes to change into for bed, and pause when you arrive in front of Steve’s bedroom. Nervous knuckles hover over the doorway, knocking twice—and then linger. Wait as silence drapes over the room, leaving your heart to race within your chest. 

“Steve…?” You call out his name into the silence, voice a little wobbly. Nervousness ebbs and flows as the silence prolongs. As you’re met with nothing but your own breathing to keep you company. 

And then, very quietly, “Yeah, baby?” 

The newness of the title sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine. You push it away, wanting more so right now to comfort the man inside than anything else. Fingers curl around the door handle, pushing it open just enough to see the man laying there in a pair of sweatpants, room chilly from the central air, bare chest on display. His hair is in disarray, face freshly washed, hair still damp from his shower. There’s the slightest hint of his vanilla shampoo in the air, a comforting sugary sweetness synonymous with your husband. 

“Can I…can I come in?” The door opens a little wider, leaving room for Charlie to prance on in, settling himself on the doggy bed in the far corner of the spacious room. 

Steve lets out a long sigh, fingers curled around his phone moving to place the device on his bedside table. He slides his glasses off his face next, popping them into his glasses container, before settling back down against the fluffy pillows and offering you the slightest hint of a smile. 

“Sure,” he says, a little softly, a little strained. 

Heart dropping into your stomach, you glance down at the small heap of clothes in your hand, and then to the adjoined bathroom. “Do you mind if I—”

Processing your question, he shakes his head, seemingly a little faraway from you. “No, yeah. Please.” 

Without another word, you slip into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you with a gentle click. A long exhale spills from your lips. Dressing quickly, you take in your reflection in the mirror. Thin sweatpants, a comfortable hoodie, face freshly washed and dried. Satisfied, you toss your clothes into the nearby hamper and slip out of the bathroom, wandering over to the side of the bed. Brows raising imploringly, Steve lifts the edge of the comforter in answer, allowing you to crawl into the space he’s created with his body. 

You choose the pillow beside him. Close enough where you can feel his heat, can run your fingers along the side of his body if you wish, could lace your fingers through his. But you’re not crossing the proverbial pillow wall unless he gives permission to do so. As much as you want to.  

“Did something happen at work?” you ask him, smiling as his hand reaches over and brushes along the back of your forearm. 

“Just the usual. People think I’m…too young to really know what I’m talking about. Anything that goes wrong is thrown at me, and I get those looks of disappointment. And I just think if only my dad were here. If only he were here, I’d know what to do. But I don’t. I don’t and then Theo looks at me like he’s so happy to see me fucking it all up. Because that will have meant he was right.”

“That he was right?” Your head shifts on the pillow, eyes flickering up to his as he angled his head a bit and takes in the sight of your face in the dimly lit bedroom. 

Shifting, he rolls over onto his side, head resting on the pillow mere inches from yours. His hands settle beside yours, his fingers brushing along the backs of yours, gently lacing them together after a moment, squeezing tight. “That I’m not ready. That I wasn’t ready. That the company should have gone to him.” 

“But that’s not true, Steve. You’re a hard worker. I know you are. You sacrifice so much for everyone, even me, and they have to see all of that. They have to. No one is perfect—not all the time, anyway.” He leans into your touch, your free hand having come up in the middle of your speech to rest over the stubbly cheek of your husband. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, turning just enough to press a kiss into the center of your palm. Your skin tingles in answer, smile warming your cheeks. 

“Always, Steve. Always. You’re there for me, I’m there for you. It’s an even exchange.” 

“You know, Theo hates me because he spent years training under my father. He spent all that time thinking the company would be going to him one day. And…I honestly thought that, too. I was shocked when I saw my name.” He pauses, mouth flattening into a straight line. Your thumb glides over his stubbly cheek once more, encouraging him to continue. “The company should have gone to him. But it didn’t. So I thought maybe my dad saw something in me that I didn’t. But every time I fuck it all up, I can just picture the face he always made when I did something wrong, and I always hated when he looked at me like that.”

“When he looked at you like what?”

“Like I was a disappointment.”

And there it is. The words that immediately wedge a knife into your heart for him. The thought of a younger Steve, wanting his father to see him for him. Not for what he could do for the company, not what he lacked, but merely for being his son. The youngest Harrington. A child to a man who expected so much of him. Placed him on a pedestal he’d never been meant to stand on, only to watch him fail time and time again in the eyes of someone who never would be happy. Not really. 

“You are not a disappointment.” The vehemence in your voice shocks you. But the anger brimming in your blood is not for the man lying beside you. No, it’s for the man who no longer resides on this side of earth, and yet has engraved years of doubt within your husband’s heart. 

“You’re biased.” He sighs, breaking off into a laugh. At the quick shake of your head, he continues, “It’s silly, maybe, but I thought maybe if I could just do right by the company, my father would finally be proud of me from wherever he is now.”

“Steve…” Your body burrows closer to his, sighing as an arm slides low along your waist. Pulls you closer. Close enough where you can wrap your arms around him and press your cheek into his collarbone. 

He exhales deeply. “We never had a close relationship. My parents were a bit older when they had me. His form of love was a stern yell when I got a C in class instead of an A. Or pointing out every bad swing in baseball, because ‘Harrington’s are winners.’ It was only when I got older we talked more, and I think that was more so because once I was old enough to, he expected me to work for him. So I was more a worker than a son.”

“You just wanted him to notice you.” And that breaks your heart. Makes your eyes burn in a way that has you sniffing loudly. 

“Silly, right?” His chest shakes with the rasp in his voice, and you grant him the privacy of his emotions, keeping your face pressed tight against his chest as he heaves with the weight of it all. 

“Not at all. You shouldn’t have ever had to fight for his love. No child should. You’re his son. That should mean everything. I’m so sorry.”

“My mom and I really only got closer when he passed. I think she realized I’m really all she has left. And I wanted to resent her for it, be mad that it took him dying for her to notice me, you know? But I couldn’t.”

Sighing, you run your hands up and down the lines of his hard back, smiling to yourself when he relaxes further into your embrace. “It’s not a bad thing to want to be loved by the people who should love you the most.” Leaning back a bit to look in his eyes, you catch the softness there. Note the way his eyes flicker from your eyes and downward to your lips, then drift back up again. “We crave it as humans. And you have such a big heart, Steve. I’m not surprised you were able to be open to her, even after all the years of hurt you must have experienced.”

Huffing, he leans his forehead against yours. “You’re being too nice.”

“I am nice, Steve. I’m only partially serious when I joke about killing you in your sleep.”

That has him smiling. And though it’s only been gone a little while, you’ve missed it dearly. 

His next question has you stilling within his arms. “Will you…stay?”

“In your bed? With you?”

“No, with your other husband.” He chuckles, shifting you so you sprawl out onto his blankets beneath him, giggling as his nose nudges yours. 

“I have another husband?” you ask, just as his lips ever so softly coast over yours, breaking off at the first wiggle of his fingers along the span of your ribcage. Like this, you wriggle and writhe beneath him. Like this, you feel every inch of him along every inch of you. Hard lines against your softer ones. His hips against yours, his lips at your shoulder, your sides jolting with your laughter, limbs kicking out wildly to try and stop him. “Stop, stop—yes! But no pillow wall like in the Maldives.”

He leans down, and you reach up enough to kiss him. “No pillow wall. I might cuddle you, if that’s okay?”

“I'm kind of hoping you do,” you tease, rolling over onto your side as he reaches over and shuts the light, shrouding you both in impenetrable darkness.

Steve settles in beside you. Unlike in the Maldives, he doesn’t begin stacking an endless row of pillows to create a divider. No, this time he comes in close, his chest along your back. Arms looping tight around your waist, pulling you in as close as possible. Legs tangle together beneath bed sheets, fingers twine over where they rest along your midsection. 

It’s quiet for a time. And then, “Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah, honey?” He lets you know he’s awake with a kiss at your shoulder. 

Giving his hand a quick squeeze, you whisper. “You’re a good man. I’m proud of you, and I know that might not count for much, but I am so proud of you.” 

“No. No. That does mean a lot.”

“Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.”

There’s another pause. Then, “Hey, Steve?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“I'm tired.” He practically moans it in your ear, face pressing into your neck. Your cheeks warm from the proximity. 

“Guess no kiss before bed then.” A pout lines your lips, though you know he cannot see it.

“Fine, fine, fine I’m up.”

“Nope, now I’m tired,” you sigh, nuzzling deeper into the endless pillows on your husband’s bed. 

“Get over here.” He grunts, shifting up onto his elbows. There’s barely a moment to argue, for his fingers curl around the base of your cheek and bring your face closer to his. 

His mouth is warm, welcoming, and lovely before bed, you decide, eyes fluttering closed. 

“Mmm,” you hum, cheeks hurting from how hard you smile as he flops back over onto his side and makes himself comfortable once more. 

“Goodnight,” he says, and you can feel his smile against the curve of your jaw.

“Goodnight.”

 ——

 With Thanksgiving about a week away, your husband becomes nearly nonexistent. He’s there, in your home, but only in the early mornings and late at night when you’re already about to fall asleep in his bed. 

His bed, because that’s where you've slept for the past however many days have passed since the first time. It’s been this unspoken thing between the two of you. Be it drawing comfort in one another, wanting the nearness of another human, or just purely wanting to be held—you don’t argue. 

In fact, you quite like waking up in his arms. Two people who fold themselves so tight around one another in their sleep. Bodies that seek comfort and warmth, crave it, and hold it close. 

But that’s truly the only time you’ve seen him as of late. Those fleeting moments when he kisses you while you’re still in bed in the morning, and then at night just as he’s about to shut the light out for the night. 

Which is why when you find him sitting in his office before work one morning, his elbows on the desk, head in his hands, you decide to take matters into your own hands to spend time with the man. Upon clearing your throat, his head tips up, eyes catching on the long tee shirt that covers your cotton shorts beneath. The hem line brushes the tops of your thighs with every step closer to him, hinting at skin that lingers beneath, coaxing him backward in his chair. His glasses are a flash of gold in the light as you clamber down onto his lap, resting your hands on his biceps, beaming down at him. 

“Hi,” you whisper, biting at your bottom lip. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he murmurs, thumbing at the curve of your hips, pads of his fingers against delicate flesh. 

“Been working long?” 

“Few hours, yeah,” he grumbles, hooking his chin over your shoulder as you wrap your arms around his waist and press your forehead into his neck. The fingers on your hips slide up your back, trailing up and down gently, eliciting chills along your frame. “Sorry if I woke you.” 

His head shifts, mouth teasing at the curve of your throat, lips tilting upward into a smirk at the little sigh that spills out on his own volition from your lips. Curious hands trail down your back, sliding over the curve of your thigh, the hinge of your hip, the soft of your tummy. Another sigh fills the quiet room, and those fingers tease at the edge of your ribcage, the sides of your waist, the curve of your sports bra. 

“You’re being sneaky,” he says, breath hot against your ear, fingers spread over the dip of your waist. At your questioning hum, he chuckles, “Distracting me from work.”

“I did nothing of the sort,” you huff out, leaning back in his arms, fingers toying with the hem of his thin sweater he’d fallen asleep in. “I just wanted to spend some time with you before you went to work. Come on now, let me get some coffee for you before you go into the office, Mr. Harrington.”

His eyes roll at your teasing nickname, hand curling around your own as you rise from his lap and lead him out of the office. As you enter the kitchen, Charlie’s sleepy head raises from his paws, before he plops back down in a sleepy heap, legs and paws splayed out in front of him. 

Steve remains nearby as you get to work on making your coffees, slipping in and out of the living room just long enough to gather some of the things he’ll need for his work day. Yours iced, caramel drizzled on the inside of the cup in preparation, and Steve’s ‘Dog Dad’ mug laid out on the counter (a gift you’d gotten him as a joke, but he loved it so much he kept it and insisted on using it every morning).  

You catch him slipping on a button down shirt out of the corner of your eye, his necktie already hanging limply around his shoulders. Noting his struggle, you wander over to stand in front of him, grappling with the fabric, stilling him in his movements.

His forehead brushes yours, your voice quiet as you say, “You feeling okay? You’re feeling a little warm.” 

“Just tired,” he says, thumbing at your bottom lip. “Just a couple more days and then I’ll have some time off.” 

“Let me?” you ask, fingers winding in the tie. 

He dips his head, watching you with those dark eyes as you maneuver the fabric around, twining this way and that, before pulling it flush against his throat. His neck bobs as you linger there, holding him nearer to you, tugging teasingly. He leans down, breath skittering across your lips as he asks for your permission. 

In answering, you tug onto the tie and pull him down to you, your backside thumping against the kitchen counters as he crowds you against them, hands on your hips, gripping tight. Hot. Fervent and heated is his mouth as he claims your lips in the middle of your kitchen, tilting his head to kiss you deeper, tongue gliding across your bottom lip until you part for him with a pretty sigh. 

“Fuck,” he rasps, lips and teeth coasting down your cheek, along your neck, against your shoulder as you hop up onto the kitchen counter with his help, ankles curling around his waist to pull him flush against your center. “Baby…I have to…I should…”

But he’s gripping your thigh. Sliding it further open so he can press himself closer, fingers trailing along bare skin, eliciting shivers in their wake. Up and down, up and down, he trails them. Watches your face the whole time, catches the pinch of your bottom lip between your teeth, the whimper you let out as those fingers roam dangerously close to where you ache for him to touch. 

“Is this what you want?” he asks. Breathes the words along the hollow of your ear. Presses a kiss below it a moment later as you nod, nearly bucking into his hand as his fingers toy with the hemline of your shorts, then along the cotton panties. “Honey, I need your words. Do you want me to touch you?” Another kiss, this time along the curve of your neck, tongue lathing sensitive skin. Heat burns low in your belly; throbs lower still, where you can already feel yourself embarrassingly wet for the man. “Want my fingers, sweetheart? Is that what you want?”

His eyes are molten as they meet yours. Liquified honey and caramel as you nod, his lips swallowing your moan at the first slide of his fingers through your slick center. “Steve…ah…work,” you pant, eyes halting on the clock staring at you across the way, and then dropping down to the forearm you’re presently clutching tight, watching the muscles there ripple as he circles your clit, testing your reactions, learning what you like. And he’s an expert, and you want to go back in time and erase every other partner who may have come before in a momentary burst of jealousy, before catching on his ringed finger where it lays against your other thigh, holding fast. 

“You're gonna be a good girl and come for me then so I’m not late?” he asks, groaning into your open mouth as you tug him closer by his necktie, hips rolling against his fingers as one slips in, before quickly being joined by another. “Fuck. Just like that, baby. Doing so good for me.”

It’s almost obscene, the sounds he draws out of you. The squelch of your slick where he pumps his fingers between your thighs, the harsh staccato of your breath as you inch closer and closer to your tipping point—like he’s been doing this for years. Like he’s known all along exactly what it takes to have you falling apart, crying out his name. And that’s exactly what you do, inner walls clenching down around his fingers as your thighs tremble low around his hips, his left hand curling around the back of your head to claim your mouth as you whimper into his skin, chanting his name like a mantra—like a prayer. 

“I hate you.” You don’t. Not when he looks at you the way he is looking at you now. Watching your chest rise and fall, eyes on yours, tongue swirling around his slick digits. “Fuck. So much.” 

“I’m sure you do,” he practically sing-songs, sliding your panties back into your place, followed by your shorts. Draws you closer to the edge of your kitchen counters, hands on the swell of your hips. He noses along your cheek, kissing you softly this time. “As much as I want to stay here, and I really really want to stay here, I have a very important meeting this morning.”

“Boo,” you whine, ear resting over his chest where you can hear his heart thrashing wildly behind his sternum.

“I’ll text you,” he promises, dropping a kiss on your lips as you lean your head back and look up at him through your lashes. “Send me pictures of Charlie?” 

“I will,” you laugh brightly, watching out of the corner of your eye as your fur child lifts his head at the mere mention of his name. “Although I’m pretty sure you already have about a million of them by now. Are you sure you have to go?”

He kisses your pout, chuckling softly. “Yes. I wish I didn’t have to, but I do. You’re so beautiful.” 

A smile grows on your lips as his fingers run along your cheek, eyes on you, marveling. Never before have you felt so singularly the focus on a partner’s mind. The way Steve looks now…with reverence and appreciation that makes your heart soar…there’s nothing like it. You want to bottle it up, stow it away, keep it safe from the rest of the world. Keep it here, within the walls of your home, where it’s only you, him and Charlie. Your little makeshift family, but the one you both chose. 

So you allow him to help you down off the countertops and onto the floor below, your still-trembling thighs groaning beneath you as your cheeks burn hot. He drops a final kiss down onto the crown of your head and squeezes your shoulder tight, snatching his phone from where it’s resting behind you. Sliding it into his pocket, he calls Charlie’s name and hugs the excited puppy once before stepping into the elevator and reassuring you once more he’ll text you just as the doors slide shut. 

He makes it about two minutes before your phone pings. His text illuminates on the screen, the message liquifying your insides all over again.  

Husband: You coming like that on my fingers is going to be the only thing I’ll be able to think about for the rest of the day, I’ll have you know. 

Your stomach tumbles and swoops low in your belly as you type out your reply. 

You: Hurry back soon because I’m already thinking of how I’m planning on returning the favor. I know that’s all I’ll be thinking about until you get home. 

He types and stops. 

Types and stops again. 

A wicked grin curls your lips. 

And finally.

Husband: You’re cruel. 

You: See you later, handsome.

You: xoxo. 

——

please please as always let me know what you think! 🩷

[starrylothcat]

Release

🔥NSFW🔥Wolffe x Fem!JediReader One-Shot

Summary: You and Commander Wolffe share an intimate moment. 1400 words.

Warnings: NSFW 18+. Minors DNI. Pure smut, with feelings.

Author’s Note: I love Wolffe. I love soft Wolffe. That is all. Please enjoy and drop me a line!

Right now, you weren’t in control, and you loved it. Wolffe had you practically bent in half on the edge of the bed, your knees thrown above his shoulders as he relentlessly struck a deeper and deeper part of you with every roll of his hips. Tears pricked at the sides of your eyes from the intensity, your mind completely clouded with desire, with him. You watched as his usual stoic facade crumbled, his good eye locked with yours as you both climbed closer to release. His large, warm hands grasped at your legs, his thrusts becoming more uncontrolled with every cry of his name that left your swollen lips.

On the battlefield you were powerful, decisive, The General. The responsibility of being a Jedi laid so heavy on your soul, you took these moments when you could forget, just for a little bit, whenever you could. In these minutes with Wolffe, you were just you. He was just him. You weren’t Commander and General. You weren’t at war, your lives at risk every single second of every single day. You could indulge in what you weren’t allowed to have, but maybe could if the circumstances were different.

Wolffe knew he wouldn’t last much longer as he watched you begin to completely fall apart beneath him, something only he could do to you, something only he had the privilege. Seeing his General splayed out, completely and utterly vulnerable, offering yourself to him without hesitation, made him crave you even more. It also made those screaming thoughts in his head that this was wrong, against every regulation he could think of, a little quieter.

Wolffe lowered your legs from his shoulders, pressing his torso down on to yours as your ankles locked around his waist, instinctually bringing him as close as possible to you. His forearms caged your head, every muscle in his body quivering, his cock driving deeper still in to you, causing you to see stars. You cried out and grasped his shoulders, your body writhing beneath his.

Wolffe brought his lips to your ear, hoarsely whispering how beautiful you were like this, telling you to let go, that he had you. How you were his, and no one else’s. Your breasts and thighs had already been thoroughly marked by his teeth, driving home the fact that you were indeed his and only he made you feel this way.

You nodded, barely forming thoughts as he brought one of his large, calloused hands down to your pelvis and began rubbing a thick finger deliciously against your clit, your body on the verge of imploding.

At any time you could easily overpower him, but you never did. You let him take charge, giving him some semblance of control in these moments, whereas in the battlefield there were none. He could lose you at any second, his worst nightmare was not being able to protect you, failing at his duty as Commander, even though he knew you didn’t need his protection.

But at least right now he could have you, care for you in the only way he knew how. Help release the burdens you both carried.

Wolffe let out his own guttural moan as your nails dug in to his shoulders, holding on for dear life. Your back arched off the bed as you got closer to your release, his practiced finger working magic on your swollen clit. Wolffe was getting close too, your unbelievably hot and tight cunt trembling around his cock. He couldn’t help but stare at you, your cheeks flushed and your hair coming undone, sweat dripping down the side of your head from the exertion, your lips parted as more cries left your throat. You sometimes had the same look in the heat of battle, the look that originally fueled his desire for you. It was never enough, though. He constantly wanted more.

Wolffe brought his head down to yours, biting down in to the flesh of your neck as another whine was ripped from your throat. “Wolffe, I’m so close…please…”

“Cum for me, mesh’la. ” Wolffe’s words were slurred against your neck, his eyes now squeezed shut at the building sensation in his lower abdomen. “Look at me, I want you to look at me when you cum, that’s an order from your Commander.” Wolffe was begging now, he had to see your face. He had to see how he made you feel, it had to be worth it, all the secrecy and sneaking around, not fully knowing where this relationship might go or how long it would last, or even could.

Finally, with a final tight circle of his finger, your orgasm violently crashed over you. You could barely keep your eyes open as you grasped at his cropped hair, your body completely coming undone as his strong thrusts coursed intense pleasure throughout your body. You choked out his name over and over, your head thrown back against the pillow in ecstasy.

Wolffe’s dark eye didn’t leave your face, your exploding orgasm causing your core to clench around him. The rush of your juices and your incoherent words caused his thrusts to become erratic as his own powerful orgasm suddenly rushed through his body.

Wolffe let out a growling, gasping moan of your name, his hips not slowing down as he continued to watch your face intently, savoring every sensation, every subtle movement of your lips, your eyelids fluttering as your eyes rolled back in to your head.

You weren’t his General. He wasn’t your Commander. You were everything he wasn’t supposed to have and didn't deserve. Wolffe was a smart man, and he knew this was more than just carnal pleasure. You understood him more than anyone ever had. You were an anchor, a shining beacon that kept him grounded. Your smile, your touch, your power. You trusted him, saw him as an equal. He loved you.

After one final press of his hips, Wolffe collapsed on your body, touching his forehead to yours, trying to find his breath as he slowly pulled out of you. Your chests heaved together as you reveled in each other’s presence. You both knew you couldn’t stay like this much longer but were savoring every second.

The moment you both left your personal quarters the masks would be put back on, the Jedi General and the gruff Commander, proud to serve the Republic, and nothing more.

Your breathing began to return to normal and you let out a satisfied sigh, bringing a hand up to his face, gently tracing his scar. You ghosted over his cybernetic eye, continuing down the side of his devastatingly handsome face. He leaned in to your touch, as you looked at him with what he could only presume as love. That secret word that you have not said out loud, but hung heavy on both your tongues after every intimate encounter. Something that you and Wolffe assumed would always be out of reach, his life completely dedicated to the Republic and yours to the Jedi Code. But that changed. You opened him up to the possibility of more than just being bred for war. He opened you up to the possibility of non-selfish attachment, realizing you needed him as much as he needed you. Wolffe wanted to finally say it, but instead brought his lips to yours in a kiss so tender you felt your heart ache. You were the only one who got to see him like this, the gruff Commander absolutely at your mercy. Wolffe did everything with purpose, and you didn’t mistake what he was trying to tell you.

I love you.

You cradled his face in your hands, kissing him back with the same gentleness he was showing you, hoping he’d understand.

I will always love you. I will always protect you. I will always be yours.

The urgent beeping of your comlink cut through the heavy silence of the intimate moment, lost somewhere in the jumble of robes and armor thrown carelessly by the door of your quarters. Your time was up. Wolffe pulled away from you, his face searching yours, still on top of you. “We have to go, Wolffe.” Your voice was shaking. “They are expecting us at the debrief.” Wolffe grunted, wanting to say something, to acknowledge the moment you had just shared, to say hell with the debrief. Your comlink beeped again, something you couldn’t ignore a second time, and he knew it. It was time to become General and Commander again, you couldn’t escape your fates. Wolffe rolled off of you, and you both dressed slowly, not ready to once again put on your professional guise, not wanting your time together to be over.

You clasped your belt, hooking your lightsaber to your side and adjusted your robes as Wolffe tucked his helmet under his arm. His serious and composed demeanor returning, but you could tell he was hesitating, staring at you with intensity, sensing he wanted to say something. You were about to ask what was wrong, but Wolffe suddenly reached for your forearm, yanking you back in to him, his helmet clattering to the floor. Wolffe growled and grasped the sides of your face, bringing you in for a desperate kiss. His lips moved fervently against yours as he finally uttered the forbidden words that had been burning a hole in his chest since you first invited him to your quarters, giving yourself to him.

I love you.

Your heart soared as you urgently whispered it back with ease, feeling lighter with every admission as his lips continued to devour yours, holding on to him so tightly you thought you might crack his plastoid armor. Everything but him faded away. He was giving his heart, his life to you. It was all he had to offer. You gasped the words again and again over his lips, letting him know there was no question in your mind about him, about what you had.

Wolffe pulled his lips from yours, letting you both breathe, not wanting this to end when it was seemingly just beginning. But it had to, at least for now. Duty called, as it always had and always will. His heart was pounding out of his armor. You looked at him, so lovingly and radiant he was once again at a loss for words, feeling as if he didn’t deserve this. But there you were, admitting the same long-hidden feelings that have been growing under the surface ever since you joined his squad.

Wolffe stepped back and let his hands fall from your face, one finger brushing over your lips as he did so, a promise for later. Nothing in this Galaxy was certain. But you were. And that’s all he needed.

Author’s Note: Never ending thanks to @wanderer-six for beta reading and being feral over this man with me 😚

[thelaughtercafe]

Abandoned

Tea Type: Milk Tea

Potential Triggers: Struggling with eating in an anorexic manner as well as intentional sleep deprivation and self care in general.

Pairing: Daryl/F! Reader (Can be read platonic)

Length: 2.4k+

Summary: Daryl leaves, and by the time he comes home you've completely stopped taking care of yourself, much to his upset. He comforts and helps you get back on the right track.

A/N: Me? Writing more self-indulgent comfort about struggling with eating, sleep and self care? It’s more likely than you think! Also maybe I’ve binged nearly 3 whole seasons of The Walking Dead and fell in love with Daryl again. That probably didn’t help. This is just pure fluff and hurt/comfort!

When Rick and the others returned, your eyes scanned them all instinctively for injuries and when you didn’t see him, you swallowed hard.

“…Where is he?”

Your voice cracked as you looked to Carol and she gave you a watery smile of her own.

“He left. Found Merle and made his choice.”

Her voice was gentle and understanding but all you felt was abandoned and cold and angry. A rare emotion for you to feel at your family. When she went to move forward and put a hand on your shoulder you cringed and hugged yourself instead.

Your heart-broken gaze moved to Rick.

“No. You-you just let him leave?! How could you?”

“We didn’t have a choice. He was gonna bring Merle back-”

“So you just abandoned him?! Let him leave? After everything we’ve been through? Everything he’s done for us?!”

Tears streamed freely down both cheeks and you moved to storm out of the metal gates when Glenn stopped you with a hand on your upper arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You roughly pulled away and leveled a glare his way.

“Get off me! You all might be fine with abandoning him to die with his brother, just the two of them out there, but I’m not. I’d rather take my chances with someone I know will be loyal.”

You whirled to look at the whole group, angrily wiping away your tears.

“Y'know what? Merle was a dick. He was rude, and crass and didn’t care about anyone but his brother. He could be monstrous and I’m not negating that. But don’t forget that Daryl was different too in the beginning, before we gave him the chance to change. And even if Merle didn’t- even if he was still a jerk who put himself before others- I trust Daryl enough to adapt and be loyal to us both. To try and help his brother change. I thought you all would too.”

When you moved to the gate you frowned as Carol blocked the way glare weakening to upset.

“…Please, move Carol. I have to do this.”

“Do what? Get yourself killed? Starve to death as you search for them like needles in a haystack? I may have lost him but I am not losing you too. And he’d never want you to go out there and put yourself at risk. He’d never forgive any of us if we let you leave. Deep down, I think you know that.”

You stared one another down before giving a bitter, watery laugh.

“Guess we’ll never know what he would think now, would we? Whatever. I’ll be in my cell if anyone needs me.”

—–

The following days were beyond painful. You found yourself constantly looking for him on instinct, used to his grounding presence just a ways in front or back of you, the way he’d mumble quips under his breath that made you smile, blush or laugh. You missed your late night talks. Remember as you’d warmed up to him. Told him “Ohana means family. Family means no-one gets left behind.” You recalled the way he’d smirked a little and nudged you with a mumbled. “What are you, 5?” You’d gone on to defend Lilo and Stitch and nudged him back with a playful smile. It had been cold that night and he’d wrapped his arms around you, made you feel safe.

And now, you’d never felt more vulnerable and isolated. You understood what he felt like at the start. Everyone looked at you like you were a wild animal, something to be pitied that could lash out at any time.

Luckily Beth and Glenn had finally given up, but Carol was persistent. You walked around the prison on patrol, her right at your back.

“Please, eat something at least, if you won’t sleep. It’s been days. Daryl wouldn’t want you to-”

“Would you stop saying that? I already told you. I’ll eat and sleep when he’s back, not a second sooner.”

“You’re acting like a child!”

Your eyes flared as you turned to her, though your expression remained cool.

“Well maybe I finally got tired being the mature one all the time. I’m still doing my part, helping everyone else. Just stop caring. Clearly it’s easy enough for everyone else to.”

Aaron joined you both as you were turning to leave when suddenly gunfire rang out, making you drop and pull Carol down with you instinctively. Aaron fell suddenly and you gasped as you saw he’d been shot in the head. Carol’s face grew steely as she positioned the body in front of you both, holding you to her tightly. Thankfully your tiny frame was easily covered.

“You stay still and you don’t move alright?”

Carol’s voice was shaky as you heard shouts ring out all around you. Are you being attacked? You hated that even now you still shook from adrenaline and fear. You heard Maggie cry out as she provided cover fire.

“Carol, take her and go!!”

You both jumped up and rushed over to where you could see Beth and Carl, grabbing guns.

A car could be heard speeding and you took the time to catch your breath as you watched in anxious horror as walkers came out of the back, hordes of them. Your mind raced, trying to figure out where everyone else was. You could all be together and deal with the threat.

You did not want to lose anyone else.

In the distance you saw Glenn and Michonne helping what looked like Hershel thank God and when they pulled up you hugged them all, quickly thinking of who else was left. Rick. Where the Hell was Rick?

You asked Hershel as much and he reassured you.

“Calm down. I saw him, he’s gonna be alright.”

He looked towards the others.

“…He’s not alone. Daryl and his brother are back. Look.”

He raised his chin behind you and you sighed in immeasurable relief at the sight. Thank God. Your core family was still together.

You all gathered and some slept while others spoke quietly in the night. You couldn’t even look at Daryl. Not yet. You didn’t want to break; not when the situation was so precarious.

Once morning came discussions began in earnest on what to do. Some wanted to leave, others wanting to stay. Rick went to leave again and Hershel finally snapped, understandably so.

When Rick returned he began allocating and you sighed as Glenn spoke up, mind racing as you tried to think of the best course of action.

“There’s barely any food or ammo.”

Daryl mumbled back.

“Been there before. We’ll be alright.”

“That was when it was just us. Before there was a snake in the nest.”

You frowned.

“Man we gonna go through this again? Look, Merle’s staying here. He’s with us now. Get used to it. All y'all.”

He stormed off as Rick tried to stop him, heading to the second floor.

You watched the group debate.

You understood both perspectives, you really did. But with a final glance around at the others, you knew where you stood, deciding to voice it when Glenn asked a dangerous question.

“Deliver Merle to the governor. Bargaining chip. Give him his traitor, maybe declare a truce.”

You moved to glare up at him, knowing he was hurting and trying to temper your instinct; protectiveness and annoyance.

“No-one’s saying you have to like the guy or forgive him, Glenn. But think about Daryl. For once. He’s done so much for us without asking for anything in return. The least we can do is offer his family a place here.”

You scoffed as you moved to go to your cell.

“At the very least, he certainly deserves better than you talking about killing his brother in cold blood behind his back."

"Like he wouldn’t throw you to the Walkers to get away the first chance he got.”

You paused at Glenn’s hiss, before looking behind your shoulder at him, ignoring the dizziness that was making you lightheaded.

“You’re probably right. But I also know Daryl would put his life on the line to protect me from that same Walker. That’s the difference. I know why you feel the way you do, and I am truly sorry for what you and Maggie both went through. But Daryl? He’s worth more to me than revenge you think will make you feel better. And deep down I think you feel that way too.”

You walked away before he could say anything more and headed up to see Daryl. You were safe for now, and you couldn’t wait any longer.

He was waiting on his bed, fiddling with his arrows. You took a shaky breath to try and steel yourself but when you opened your mouth his eyes abruptly cut to you.

“When was the last time you ate or slept?”

You winced and looked away, mouth closing as you’d gone quiet. You swallowed nervously.

“��haven’t since you left.”

“‘Scuse me?!”

You looked back at him when his voice rose and saw the anger in his eyes.

“The Hell you mean you ain’t ate or slept since I left? It’s been 4 days now.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll do it now okay so just-”

You turned to leave, cheeks burning in humiliation at your secret being out but looked back as rough calloused fingers curled around your arm.

“Like Hell it don’t matter! Look at me!”

You met his eyes and your tears finally fell as you did so. The aggressive tone was a bit triggering, but you and him both knew you wouldn’t have broken down like you needed to otherwise.

“I’m sorry okay!? I didn’t want you to know, I thought-I just…”

You used your free hand to cover your mouth as you sobbed.

“I didn’t want to live in a world you weren’t here with me! They wouldn’t let me go find you so I just- I just shut down. It was good anyway, Carl’s a growing kid and I’d rather my portion be used to help the others than go to waste. It was a good thing!”

Your voice cracked and you looked away to try and gather yourself when Daryl gently guided your face back to look him in the eye.

“You sacrificin’ yourself while spiraling ain't a good thing. I promise I won’t leave like that again. An’ if I ever did, I’d come back for ya. But that means ya gotta take care of yourself. Not worry the others. Beth told me, soon as I got in. Told me you was bein’ a damn fool and to get some sustenance and sleep in ya.”

You gave a watery laugh at that and moved to hug him, hiding your face in his neck and taking comfort in the warmth and solidness of him.

“Should’ve known she’d tell you. Between her and Carol it was getting pretty difficult. Pretty sure Carol was just gonna start force-feeding me soon.”

His husky chuckle made you melt further into him but he sighed and pulled back, raising his chin toward the 1rst floor.

“She must’ve got her stubborn streak from watchin’ you. Now, get some food first before you doze off, you can eat it here with me and then you’re going the Hell to bed. Y'know I’ll wake you soon as anything happens.”

You blushed at the embarrassing question you wanted to ask but he beat you to it, fingers running through your hair in the familiar way he did when you’d have a nightmare or insomnia before he left.

“Obviously I’ll be right by your side. You ain’t the only one who was strugglin’. Kept looking over my shoulder to make sure you were alright. I want you in my sight. 'Specially knowing what stupid shit you’ll do if separated from me again.”

You smiled at the fondness in his tone and pulled away to go get food. The dizziness was getting worse so you grabbed an apple and called it good as you trucked up the stairs again to his room.

He frowned a bit at the small portion but sighed in defeat after a moment from where he was back on the bottom bunk.

“Apple for now is fine, it’s probably best you get your stomach used to food again anyhow.”

You forced the apple down despite your lack of hunger since Daryl was back. That was what you’d promised Carol. You didn’t want anyone to worry about you anymore. You’d been selfish enough. Clearly you weren’t as slick as you thought if both Beth and Carol had caught on.

When you finished it down to the core he moved over to make a small space for you to cuddle into, eyes still locked on his arrow. You couldn’t stifle your smile and moved to make yourself comfortable. Wall at your back and Daryl at your right it felt like you could breathe again and you couldn’t help your yawn at the familiar position.

“Here. I doubt you’ll need if since you’re so tired but it never hurts.”

His voice was gruff but you saw the intimacy of the action as he tossed his familiar leather jacket over you, knowing you slept infinitely better with a blanket.

“You can use me as a pillow too, if ya need. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

You relaxed completely and let yourself feel safe and contented as you snuggled into his shoulder and neck. The warmth emanating from him was already making you drift off and the dizziness was fading.

“Thanks for not leaving me. Sorry for being stupid and selfish and… like a child.”

He chuckled at that and moved one of his arms to circle you and pull you closer, ruffling your hair before continuing to play with it.

“S'fine. Everyone’s warranted a temper tantrum now and then. Just don’ make a habit of it or I’ll have to smack ya upside the head good.”

“Yeah, right. A big…softie like you?”

You stifled another yawn.

“Doubt it.”

He smiled and you blissfully passed into unconsciousness. He looked up as Carol leaned against the doorway, a wry smile on her face.

“Haven’t had a chance to say. I’m glad you came back.”

He scoffed a little.

“To what? All this?”

Carol came to sit down, voice quiet but clear.

“This is our home.”

He met her eyes meaningfully.

“This is a tomb.”

“That’s what T-Dog called it. Thought he was right…till you found me.”

Her voice was somber but gentle.

“He’s your brother, but he’s not good for you. Don’t let him bring you down. After all, look how far you’ve come.”

Her eyes moved to you sleeping soundly against him in meaning and he looked away a moment before looking back as they shared a chuckle.

[raayllum]

Callum is so right about Rayla never doing anything for herself. You could say freeing Runaan was for herself but she also treats it as her "sacred promise" and chose him for Ethari too (shows how great her heart is). You think sparing Callum will finally count as her doing something for herself? Choosing her future and her love for him over the "greater good". She couldn't get her og parents back‚ this girl keeps losing and suffering she seriously deserves more wins

God, I could write an entire meta about that line - maybe one day when I'm feeling self indulgent. In regards to your actual prompt, re: saving Callum will count as something for herself -- a big yes, absolutely, I think! Though I think freeing her parents is something she deeply wanted for herself, too ("I miss you so much" / "so I wanted to do something for yourself for you") even if it was something she was continually putting off till the Aaravos situation, as far as she knew, was resolved

Prior to S6 I went back and forth on whether the show would frame Rayla's end of the possession plot line / trying to get Callum back as either "It doesn't matter what happens to me (again) I just want to save him" (which is what leaving in TTM and other moments was about) OR whether it'd be framed as "I refuse to sacrifice him / something I want (again)" and therefore be character development. I leaned towards the latter for reasons outlined here since the two have the chance to be even more thematically codependent than they already are in terms of their senses of identity:

As long as Callum is Callum (not possessed, or she has reason to believe he’s still in there), Rayla likely won’t be able to bring herself to kill him. This is from an emotional / characterization standpoint, of course, but from a thematic standpoint, we can see where it stems from Callum and Rayla continually being each other’s main connection to their sense of identity. As long as Callum is Callum (“you’re the destiny is a book you write yourself guy”), he’s worth saving. As long as Callum is Callum, she can be Rayla (“Rayla’s brave. She saves people” / “Rayla. My name is Rayla, and I’m going home”). As long as she’s Rayla, he can be Callum. Because if Callum isn’t Callum, then he’s dead, and if he’s dead, she can kill him. And if Rayla kills him, if Callum is dead, then she won’t be Rayla anymore. Because to literally kill Callum would be to simultaneously symbolically/emotionally kill herself.

This goes both ways of course - Callum can't/won't sacrifice Rayla because to do so would be to sacrifice a fundamental part of himself (namely his deep and Pure devotion to others which means he'll never go entirely down the negative side of Viren's path, and keep to the positive - leaving Aaravos, breaking free, etc). This was subtext prior to S6, but now it's actual text (she's his light/truth/hope of salvation, etc) so it goes double going forward. This is true for Rayla too — Callum is her guiding light and her star, he's one of the people who's taught her the most about how to love and the person she wants to be.

With all that in mind, yeah, I do think that Rayla will choose to not sacrifice Callum for the right reasons. Part of this is scaffolded under witnessing Callum not sacrificing her No Matter What prior to her won choice, and realizing "what [she] most deeply desires" isn't just Callum's survival even, but specifically the life they can have together, which she needs to stick around for and thereby not sacrifice herself. Runaan is also explicitly remorseful over the actions he took towards her where he choose duty over love, so Rayla realizing she should choose love over duty ties into them growing together as well in a positive way. We also see her realize some of this I think in choosing to let Lain and Tiadrin stay together rather than separate them specifically because of the Moonphoenix bracelet Callum gave her as well.

"I risked losing the best thing I ever had" because of her own duty turned revenge vs "I refuse to lose either of us like this" and finally fully accepting an assassin was never who she was and never who she Should be, in sacrificing others' lives or her own included. Them both Choosing each other above everything else was exactly what I was hoping for as soon as the "I need you to kill me" plot line started / wrote in my first CHET fic pre-S4 years ago:

She has two options as she pulls away. She can make a grab for her swords and go out, swords blazing. Kill Viren or Aaravos if she can as the sky splits open, purple and thrumming with magic; die with a sword in her hand in all likelihood. The release spell has already started. Or she can help Callum up, and they can live to fight another day—together. Rayla grips the back of his jacket. Presses her forehead to his neck for a second, tears building her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says. His arm tightens around her, like he’s braced for her to go. “Rayla—” “I’m so sorry,” she repeats, sobbing. This is all her fault, but she can’t do that to him. “We have to get out of here.” [...]

Callum is staring at her when she pulls back and she swallows hard. She doesn’t know what to say. It’s both a blessing and a curse when he speaks first. “You chose me,” he says, not quite softly; she can tell there’s a lump in his throat. An edge of anger that not doing so was even an option. “Yeah, well. It was about time,” she says quietly. “I—”

So uh, here's hoping!

[mrcaptainrex]

You Had One Job.

Crosshair x F!Wife!Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Established Relationship, Dry/Rude Humor, Mentions of Blood

Summary: When Crosshair risked his life to send his brothers and wife a message, he expected them to heed his warnings. He should have known that his family never does things the way they're supposed to.

A/N: You know when you can never find a fanfic with your specific idea in mind so you write it yourself? That's what this is. This is purely self indulgent, and I'm not apologizing. Happy reading!

"Keep moving, traitor!" The trooper shouted from behind her, and pushed his blaster to her back for good measure.

"Wasn't planning on stopping, asshole." She mumbled to herself. The corridor was dark. The only real source of illumination was the blood-red ray shields containing what must have been hundreds of clone troopers. How could they do this to the men that fought for them so valiantly, not even a year prior? It disgusted her that the Empire was willing to treat its own soldiers this way.

"Stop here." One of the troopers finally barked. She stopped and turned towards the ray shield, but the cell was different than the others. It looked almost like an office. In the center of the room, a man leaned on the desk with a pleased smirk on his face. As the ray shield lifted and she was shoved in the room, she analyzed his face. He had a chiseled jawline, cold blue eyes, and slicked back hair as dark as his aura.

"Ah, the legendary Mrs. (Y/N) (L/N). How wonderful to finally meet you." He smiled. His voice was just as eerily calm as the look in his eyes. She couldn't quite place his intentions.

"Dr. Hemlock, I presume?" She asked.

He let out a slight chuckle. "I am surprised you know that. Very few do."

"Wasn't easy to find out. I actually came here to kill you, but your troopers here took my weapons." The doctor circled her menacingly, as if he was analyzing her.

Hemlock released the handcuffs strangling her wrists and motioned for her to sit. "I'm sorry they ruined your plans. But you and I both know you don't need a weapon to kill me. You could do it right now if you wanted to." As she sat tentatively, he sat on the chair opposite her side of the desk. "And it's getting ever more tempting by the moment, I bet." He teased. She forced herself to appear relaxed, but something about this man felt off.

"I have more self-restraint than that, Doctor."

"Clearly you don't have as much as you think."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Gladly." Hemlock placed a recorder before her and pressed the button.

Plan 88. They're after Om-

Plan 88. They're after Om-

Plan 88. They're after Om-

Hemlock let the transmission play a few times, allowing her husbands plea to mock her. He took pleasure in the way she became visibly uncomfortable at the sound of her husbands voice.

"I understand. It must have been hard when he abandoned you." If looks could kill, Hemlock would have been slowly crushed under the weight of a tank.

"You don't know him." She hissed. He nodded his head regretfully.

"Correct. Which is what I'm hoping you can help me with." Hemlock stood behind her and bent down so he spoke directly into her ear. "How do I get him to talk?"

"Did you try saying 'please'?" She said sarcastically.

The doctor released a heavy sigh and stood tall again. "I like you, Mrs. (L/N). You're quite funny. But humor and a pretty face will not help you here."

Despite the threat behind his words, she couldn't help but snort. "You really think I'm pretty?" This time, the Doctor did not laugh. He turned to face her again and grabbed her chin, harshly forcing her to look at him.

"Not for long." He said calmly. As he drew his hand away, the woman saw an opportunity. As hard as she could, she bit the Doctor's finger and refused to let go. His yelp of pain alerted the troopers standing guard outside the room. It took both of them to pull her teeth from his finger.

As Hemlock cradled his bleeding hand, she spat his blood and skin from her mouth with a red-stained grin. "Go fuck yourself, Doctor." The last thing she remembered was a harsh force to the back of her head, and falling to the ground.

-

Growing up, Crosshair believed there were two kinds of soldiers: brave, or stupid. Then he met his wife and learned there was a third option: ballsy. He never considered himself one to shy away from a fight, but he'd never met a woman as daring as her. That was once a trait he admired. Hell, it may even be the one that made him fall in love with her. But now, as he watched his wife's unconscious body be thrown into his prison cell, covered in the blood of a fight she undoubtedly started, he wished dearly that she was a coward.

He forced himself to stay seated on the ground until the troopers left. The moment the ray-shield reactivated, he crawled to her awakening body and held her close.

"(Y/N)? Can you hear me?" He cradled her head in his lap like she was made of glass and delicately brushed her tangled hair from her face. "Wake up, you di'kuit!" He inspected the blood seeping from her mouth, and couldn't help the proud feeling was over him as he realized it wasn't hers.

"Crosshair?" She croaked weakly. She felt like she was dreaming. After a year of being away from him, she finally lay cradled in his arms.

Upon hearing her voice, He helped her sit up and began inspecting her body for injuries. "Are you hurt?" He asked. She had never heard him speak with such concern. Sure, he'd been worried for her before. That was only natural in their line of work. But this wasn't worry. This was genuine fear.

"I'm okay," she assured him. "I'm okay." Her words calmed him. However, as his adrenaline wore off, the realization set in

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" He whispered loudly.

Well at least now she could be sure it wasn't a dream. That was definitely her Cross.

Like a child, she swatted his hands away from her face and pouted. “I was trying to save you!”

He looked around the cell, and back at her. “Well, you've done a great job, mesh’la.” He leaned back from his squatting position and sat against the wall opposite her. They stared at each other in tense silence for a moment. "You turned yourself in?"

"Please, you think these new 'stormtroopers' could bring me in by themselves?" His face expressed that he was clearly not pleased with his lovers actions.

"Could you explain to me how 'plan 88' translates to 'turn yourself in to the empire'?" He deadpanned.

She snorts. "Oh please, a warning is just a dangerous challenge."

Her carelessness did little to relieve his frustration. "Dammit, (Y/N) you had one job!" He snapped. Feeling his anger begin to take over, he took a deep breath and pinched the top of his nose. "I told you to run."

"And I told you to stay, so I guess know we're even." She rebutted bitterly. She didn't mean to say it, but the way that he reprimanded her like a child enraged her.

Her spiteful response surprised him. He went silent in shame. He never meant for any of this to happen. He wanted so desperately to go back in time. To stand in front of her on that Kaminoan platform one more time and hold her close. To tell her that he would never leave her side again. But unlike his lover, time was not so forgiving. "I'm sorry." He whispered so quietly she barely heard him.

She regretted her words as soon as she saw him shrink like a wounded dog. With a sigh, she scooted across the room until she was sitting next to him. "I really missed you." She said quietly. He looked up at her beautiful warm eyes with his own and practically melted. She cautiously rested her head on his shoulders and relished in the familiar feeling. For the first time a very long time, he allowed a tear to fall from his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to look down at her. Instead he opted to stare at the ceiling in hopes that gravity would keep his tears at bay. He didn't deserve this. Her forgiveness. He hurt her badly, and somehow she was able to act like nothing had happened. Why was she so good to him? Hesitantly, he leaned into her warmth and placed his hand over hers. When she didn't recoil, he felt a wave of emotions overcome him.

"I'm so sorry." He said quietly. "You deserve better."

She lifted her head from his shoulder and smiled up at him. "You are better." She responded.

He was sure he had never been more in love with her.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked.

Instead of responding, she gently held his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his. It wasn't like their kisses used to be - passionate and hungry. This time, his lips slowly and tenderly molded into hers with nothing but pure love. With every second that went on, his body and mind relaxed more and more. He could taste the dried blood from her mouth, but even that didn't bother him.

Suddenly, a familiar imperial alarm began sounding off, followed by emergency lights flashing. The desire in his eyes faded, and confusion took it's place. His wife, however, looked completely unfazed.

"What did you do?" He asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Remember that digestible tracker Tech was always working on?"

"Please tell me you didn't swallow a tracker."

"He made it meiloorun flavored!" She smiled.

As if on cue, the ray shield to their cell disappeared. "They boys are right on schedule." She stood and offered him a hand to do the same. While he struggled to regain his balance, her grip on his hand remained. "Welcome back to Clone Force 99, my love."

He gawked in amazement at his wife. This woman had been tortured, abandoned, betrayed and humiliated by him. And yet here she stood, after breaking into a top secret imperial base, with her hand extended and a still-bloody smile on her face. (Where that blood came from, he still wasn't sure.) If he could marry her twice he would. "Fuck, I love you so much." He exhaled as he wrapped himself in her embrace and felt relief for the first time in a long time.