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cherubify · 1 month

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SERVICE CHARGE / LEON KENNEDY

6.5k words, based on this

cw: waitress f!reader, blackmail, stalker, power abuse, noncon, dubcon, (unprotected) p-in-v, fellatio, spanking, implied cunnilingus, dirty talk, corruption kink, breeding, lack of aftercare, mentions of blood (no bloodplay) / minors dni

a/n: big thanks to @xoxostarlet for beta reading! pls check out her work it's vry yummy! n thanks for 50+ follows!! also i hc this as post re4 leon bcs of my og drabble but it can be di/ vendetta leon too it works even bttr ok bye!!

Leon’s not quite sure why he’s so taken with you– a girl waitering at your family’s restaurant, a dingy place in the outskirts of the city. Maybe it’s because he’s a simple guy- sees a pretty, little thing and can’t help but fantasise about you. You’re younger than he’d like, but old enough to warrant his wandering gaze at the way your oil stained apron wraps around your perfect waist, at the knotted ribbon you always messily tie that rests on the swell of your cheeks. You’re practically an angel in his eyes, your halo the form of a sloppily tied hair bun that sits atop your head with unruly strands sticking out.

Maybe it’s because you’re quite a character- armed with rather polite comebacks and one liners that you dish out to ungrateful, difficult customers. Of course, you’re so well loved by the regulars (him included) that you barely have to lift a finger to kick them out yourself. Everyone here in this tiny family restaurant loved you, their perfect waitress with the perfect smile. You’re enthusiastic about your mundane job too, fast on your feet and even faster with your words when running through demanding orders.

Maybe it’s because you’re still so young that you have this amount of energy. Or maybe it’s because of the lack of hired hands that you had to work with ten times the amount of energy you should normally exert. He remembers caring more about details and the nitty gritty things when he was your age. But he digresses.

Whatever it is, he thinks you’re quite the charmer. You have him wrapped around your little finger, and he’d like to make it known to you. But the trouble lies in your denseness. You’re beyond saving with how each of his flirtatious comments would fly over your head, soar, even. With how clueless you were, it was a safe bet to assume you were a dumb little girl who had yet to have her cherry popped. Just a silly virgin playing the pretence of an adult.

Oh right, that’s another reason why he’s so taken by you. The idea of ruining you was exhilarating– worth the trouble of driving for half an hour after work to this hole in the wall just to see you. He finds himself wondering how you’d look bent over the tiny bathroom sink in the back of the shop, jeans pooling at your ankles as he eats your cute butt. Oh, how he’d love to unravel you with only a thin door separating you and your customers and parents.

He has to thank his superiors for meeting you. If it weren’t for that random party they held that night, he probably would never have touched this decrepit store. (For him, an hour away from home meant one less hour to kiss his bed.) That night you had introduced yourself as their waitress and patiently guided them through the menu with recommendations.

The waitress before him with quite the looker, pretty despite the mess on her apron and the sweat that clung to the nape of her neck. How old were you? In your late teens– or maybe your blossoming twenties? He searched your eyes for answers, while you tucked your loose hair behind your ear and waited patiently for his table to decide. He made small talk because that’s something he’s gotten good at with the ladies.

“Quite the establishment you’ve got running here.” He commented as he gestured at the rowdiness with his eyes. You snapped out of your frozen daze to meet his blue eyes. Was this hottie talking to you? You swallowed nervously and wrung your fingers together.

“Sorry,” you laughed breathlessly. “It’s always like this after eight til closing hours. These guys trod in here after work and take it out with booze.”

“I can see that. Your parents own the place, hun?” He asked.

“For twenty years. Going stronger than ever,” you nodded. He smiled and asked for your name, and you willingly gave it with a demure smile.

Your name fits you, perfect for an angel such as yourself, he thought. His coworkers paid you little attention in their drunken state; this was their second round of restaurant hopping. Leon had to remain sober to chauffeur them home, and he was glad that he was sober enough to see and not forget you. You wouldn’t become a blurred image, a forgotten ghost in his memories as a result of intoxication. He was glad he was the only one who would remember this encounter.

On the way out, he had an arm supporting his fallen coworker. You held the door open, not minding the men who leaned lifelessly against his car like mannequins. You seemed amused, casual about the blacked out group that left the store blacked out drunk. Must have seen it a lot, he assumed.

“Do patronise us again, Mr Kennedy. Preferably when it’s not rush hour,” you had chuckled lightly.

And if such a pretty girl like you asked so sweetly, who was he to deny you? So he came as often as he could. You were always busy with attending to other customers, barely having enough time to sacrifice for idle chatter. He needed idle chatter, enough to grow your curiosity in him to be interested.

To get your attention, he would pull out a lighter (an expired one of his, a convincing prop) and click it a few times, cigarette pursed between his lips. And somehow, miraculously over the sea of rowdy customers you always heard it. The clicking over the cacophony in the restaurant. And like clockwork, you would storm over to warn him not to smoke inside.

“Mr Kennedy!” You placed your hands on your hips, frowning. Your brows were scrunched up in a disapproving frown whilst a pout played on your lips.

“It’s Leon,” he said while pocketing the bud and lighter. The grin on his face of hardened features made him look way younger– but you snapped out of your thoughts to fold your arms across your chest.

“Well, Leon,” he shivered at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. A buttery sound, gentle but firm like your nature. “I told you we don’t allow smoking in our shop. If you want, there’s a quiet alley beside us for it.”

“I know, I know,” he shrugged, and you’d roll your eyes in feigned annoyance before asking for his order.

You placed his menu before him, and without opening it, he recited his usual. And this cycle occurred over and over again like a broken record. Your reactions were the same, albeit less exasperated each time as you got used to his antics. He could tell– he was starting to grow on you.

He would leave generous tips for you too thanks to his expandable wallet. You know, for the service charge. The first few visits you fought to return the money because even though you were poor and desperate, you weren’t going to accept hundreds like it was nothing!

“Mr Ke- Um, Leon. I really can’t accept this,” you shook your head and pushed the stack of bills to his chest.

“Just take it. For the great service.”

“I really can’t, you always leave me no choice.” You frowned but pocketed it anyway. Couldn’t argue with the man who loomed over you even with a counter separating him from you. It made you nervous, and you lacked the heart to push, unlike with other customers.

“Why can’t you?” The blonde asked as you showed him out. Holding the door with your back, you shook your head.

“My parents already think you’re a mafioso with the amount of money you tip. Anymore and I don’t know what they’ll make of you!”

Aw, you were concerned for him? Little ol’ him? He wanted to swipe a thumb over the pout playing on your plush lips and kiss you. Kiss you and lead you to the alleyway beside your family store and take you then and there. How would you react to that, he wondered? Would you be happy?

He was answered instantly when your eyes lit up at something behind him. He turned to see a beat down Toyota in the driveway, and a skinny guy clambered out with a backpack, books in hand. Your face glowed radiantly. Leon wondered what you saw in that awkward boy. You bid Leon goodbye with a stutter and led the boy in, leaving poor Leon to stand on the porch with a disgruntled expression and stinging in his chest. He knew the answer to his earlier question: probably not, because you already had a thing for someone else.

Leon visited again during one of your quieter shifts. During a weekday, on his time off. You sat in the corner of the store with the same boy while doing homework together. When he said something, your face lit up and you laughed toothily. A genuine, earnest and bright smile. Something he never got to witness, receiving only your customer service smiles when he cracked his best jokes for you.

But he couldn’t bring himself to stay mad at you for long. It couldn’t be helped that you were just a doe-eyed girl who didn’t know how to appreciate him. No matter, he could teach you how. Since you were lacking the brain cells to even try. But first, he had to do something about that boy.

It was easier than stealing candy from a baby. Just a few documents and the boy’s home was evicted. He knew the rest, but as you sat across Leon, face buried in your arms as you shared the story, he listened. It was like playing a video game and being spoiled of its ending. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave your side as you sniffled about your new ex-boyfriend. Your first one, too. He really helped you dodge a bullet, and you should be thanking him instead of ruining his dinner table with your tears. It left a sour taste in his mouth, but he swallowed it.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered, even though there was no one else in the store but you two. (And your parents as they watched from the kitchen. His eyes met theirs, and they whispered not so discreetly to one another and he smirked.) He patted your head, and you flinched at the unexpected weight on your head. He mussed your hair with a (fake) smile.

“It’s all gonna work out, I promise.”

You looked at him incredulously, brows furrowed. But you nodded anyway. Good, as you should. You need not question him; just listen and obey.

Months easily passed as he played this game of cat and mouse with you. You, the unsuspecting mouse, who had grown to trust him. Fondly, maybe. He knew what you saw in him- a reliable, honest regular who gave you good advice and helped you at times in need. And it was true, from the goodness of his heart, he was at your every beck and call. And he would be forevermore, even if you rebuked him to the depths of hell, where he rightfully belonged.

So one day, when you looked worse for wear, he asked if something was up. You shared with a tired smile that you’ve been struggling to focus in class lately due to the influx of new customers. A food critic had written a blog post about the store and business boomed. He had to find out who the culprit was and take down their site, but that was for later.

He perked up when you shared that you wanted to put flyers around the neighbourhood to hire more workers. So he offered to help. He had a car, so he could spread the word further and get the job done faster than on foot, he reasoned.

“Thank you so much. You’re the best, Leon!”

Your eyes shone with relief and you threw your arms around him. He caught you, albeit with surprise. You showered him with gratitude while clinging to him as he sat, shellshocked in his seat.

Your first hug. Your curves were soft against his hardened one, and his hands itched to hug you back, to trail down your smaller body and feel you through your work clothes. But Leon steadied himself- he had to win the game in the long run, he couldn’t afford to drop out of the race so soon. The blonde retreated his hands and cleared his throat, and you practically crawled off him. Your hand bumped into the tent between his pants, but thankfully you were too flustered to notice.

“U-Um, I’ll pay you back,” you had said, and you offered him a shy smile. “Not that I have much but I’ll make sure it’s worth your time.”

“How about a kiss?” He prompted with a lopsided smile. Oops, that was an impulsive move. Like chasing the king’s piece while neglecting the imposing queen a few tiles away. Said queen being your parents, who stared at you disapprovingly like you had shed your angelic wings for those of a demon’s.

Your mouth gaped open for a moment but then you shook your head. “You shouldn’t tease me,” you whispered, hands rubbing your arms awkwardly.

His face fell, but he recovered with a boyish grin.

“Just pulling your leg. ‘S all good!”

It wasn’t good. His plans crumbled because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Now it was awkward between you two. He found the papers you put up yourself and threw them onto the passenger seat, a messy pile with the share you had given him for his part. He clicked his tongue and shredded the flyers that you painstakingly designed, tossing the pieces out the window as he raced down the highway home in his car. He had to push harder, find other ways to corner you so you wouldn't be able to refuse him. Not again.

Once he reached home, he practically inhaled his shirt, where your scent faintly clung. It was intoxicating, the heat of your body pressed against his and the smell of your sweat mixed with your natural scent. God, you knew how to rile him up without even trying. His cock was painfully hard in his fist as he laid on his bed, stroking himself with his jacket to his face.

When he arrived at the establishment the next day he found you in the back– in the kitchen– where you hung your head in shame while scrubbing dishes. He had caused quite the scene in the store; your father had mustered the courage to warn him (albeit politely) not to lay a hand on his precious daughter. It was quite funny, the man shook like a leaf as he weakly poked a finger into Leon’s chest. It was astonishing and hilarious at how his voice choked whilst dishing out empty threats of what he’d do to Leon if he messed with his girl. All the while your back faced him, unwilling to speak for the next few weeks.

Your parents had taken it on themselves to switch shifts with you whenever he appeared. They practically had his visiting hours memorised too, so it wasn’t like he could waltz in whenever he pleased. They were a pain, an overprotective bunch. For a grown up miss like yourself, it was a wonder why they were still so protective. Probably because they could recognise a wolf in sheep's clothing the moment he walked into their restaurant a second time, eyes prowling until they landed on you.

It mattered not because he would have his way whether they approved or not. He needed no consent form, and not from you either.

…

Your family’s restaurant was on the ground floor of a little building you stayed in. Your residency was located on the second floor, off limits to customers by a locked door. Nothing a little lock picking could solve, thankfully.

Nobody but you was home, he made sure of that when he saw your parents leave in their car. He wasn’t quite sure where you were, but when the sound of running water leaked into the empty hallway, a smile creeped onto his face. His eyes fell on one door that was coloured differently from the rest. There you were. The door creaked ajar, and he peered from the thin gap to see you standing in a glass box. It was humid, water vapour swirled around the bathroom whilst condensation fogged the shower, leaving him little but enough to see.

The shower was turned off, and your hands mindlessly trailed down your body as you scrubbed it with a loofa. You bent over, reaching for your toes, and Leon almost burst in to take you there himself. The growing tightness in his pants hurt, and hell your perfect ass was beckoning him like a sailor to a siren’s call. You hummed softly, blissfully unaware of the man ogling your flushed, naked body.

He swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he shakily took out his phone. The sound of the camera clicking was muffled by the echoing sound of the shower as you sung your silly song. When he had his fill, he took one last longing glance before closing the door behind him.

Women spend forever in showers. Assuming this, he snuck into your room. It was simple, save for the abnormal mountains of plushies that lined your bed and your shelves. Japanese merchandise everywhere– he recognised a smaller white bear next to a much bigger brown one. Rilakkuma, or something. You had quite the collection. Were you fans of those bears? Should he gift you some? Ah, but your parents would toss them into the fire. As his mind somersaulted from one reckless thought to another, he noticed a laundry basket in the corner of your room.

He sauntered over and peered at its contents with sparkling blue eyes. He lifted your sweaters and produced a white one with a pink bow on the front. Your used panties. His heart hammered in his chest as he held it with trembling fingers. The blonde sniffed the damp patch on the gusset and groaned. His dick was already aching to be freed earlier when he saw you in the shower. Now his balls were clenching and screaming for release.

But it would be a waste to stop now. He didn’t know when you would return. So he pocketed the article of clothing and continued rummaging through your possessions.

He even went through your closet to inspect your collection. What were you into? Did you have a specific brand you frequented? Did you prefer lace or silk? Or cotton, like the one snug and warm in his pocket?

He found a matching set of lace underwear sat in the back of a drawer, a translucent design with roses and ribbons. He inspected it curiously– were you waiting to use them? Were you planning on wearing this for your ex-boyfriend? His lips curled into a snarl. It was a good thing he had gotten the kid off your radar. He couldn’t afford to let anyone see you in such scandalous lingerie. Only he should have the privilege of doing so. His mind raced with thoughts as he traced a finger along the strap of your bra.

Then your door creaked and you swung it open. He turned his head to see you, standing at the doorway wrapped in a fluffy towel that hugged your chest and hung above your knees. Your wet hair clung to your face, rivulets cascaded down your flushed skin. When your eyes met his, you froze. Wide eyes met his.

Uh oh.

Before you could scream, Leon lurched forward and clamped a hand over your mouth. He shushed you softly, mirroring your wide eyed expression.

“I know it looks bad,” he whispered. The force against your mouth prevented you from speaking. You began trembling as his lips inched closer, “But I don’t mean any harm.”

“Mmhmm?!” You mumbled against his palm. He withdrew and you gasped, stepping back while hugging your damp, shivering frame. “Leon, you can’t be here. This- This level is off limits to customers!”

“But I’m not just a customer,” he spread his arms. He slowly approached, footsteps thudding against the carpet, “And c’mon, you like me, right?”

Your eyes were ready to pop out of your skull. “Like you? I mean- Yes but- but not like- Like…” You squeaked as your back thumped against your door. Your hand reached behind and blindly searched for the doorknob. When you finally caught it, the blonde slammed a hand beside your head.

His face inched forward, a frown contorted on his handsome, hardened features. “Like what?” He breathed. You shivered at his warm breath fanning your cold skin. Hesitation paralysed your tongue, and as you struggled to speak, he clasped your jaw with his hand. His questioning, cold gaze was unlike the usual warmth he carried. And it scared you. You swallowed and choked out.

“...Not like lovers.”

A silence ensued between the two of you. The birds outside your window chirped with fervour, as if you weren’t cornered by your customer whom you had grown to trust over the past couple of months. His thick brows knitted tightly against his forehead as he gripped your jaw harshly. You winced, his bruising touch hurt and your hands clawed at his wrist. His nose wrinkled with displeasure as his eyes darkened. He was disappointed, but he couldn’t deny that he saw it coming. Didn’t sting any less.

“So that’s what you think of me,” he spat. Then he smashed his lips against yours and yanked your towel off your body. Your hands flew to his chest as you desperately pushed, a muffled scream on your lips as you resisted. Leon gripped your wrists and slammed them over your head against the door whilst slotting a knee between your trembling legs.

You tried to shout but he shoved his tongue into your mouth and embraced yours in a passionate tango. You couldn’t scream, couldn’t stop him as he shut you up with fervent kisses that sent shocks down your spine. His knee rubbed against your slit, and he bumped into your clit purposefully, eliciting a whine from your saliva stained lips. He pulled away to look at you– and gods, you were so beautiful. So pliant for him, so–

“Help!”

You screamed at the top of your lungs. But your head snapped to the side, and you stared blankly at his shoes. Your cheek stung, pulsating with a dull throb as you placed a hand over where he had slapped you. Tears welled up in your eyes and you refused to look up at him. You tried to run again, but this time he dragged you over to your bed and pushed you down.

Then he flipped open his phone and showed you his photos. You gaped in shock at the hundreds of blurry yet distinct shower pics in his album. The focal point? You.

He met your concerned gaze with a half-lidded one. He spoke quietly and slowly as he held the device over your face.

“You can run, but all it takes is one push and I’ll have this photo publicised everywhere. You wouldn’t want to ruin your parent’s business… right?”

More tears welled in your eyes and your bottom lip trembled with a sob. He hushed you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Lashes fluttered close as your tears slid down your damp cheeks while the water from your undried hair seeped into your sheets. His voice was a broken record as your vision darkened.

“Shh, it’s alright. It’s gonna be alright…”

The rest was a blur. All you remembered was foggy vision and searing skin. But Leon remembered it all. You put up quite an impressive fight for a little girl like you. You had landed a blow in his temple and sent him reeling into your bed frame. But you were too weak to run, thanks to all the love bites he left around your inner thighs and legs that left you tingly and numb. You tried to crawl away, but even then it was pointless.

For the most part, you were pretty compliant. Like the good girl you were, you spread your legs prettily when asked and even nursed his cock with your lewd tongue, eyes glazed with tears and self-hate whilst he ate your pussy out. Hell, the rumours were true. Virgins gave the best head. You let him cum down your throat too, like the good girl you were. Your mouth pussy was so tight that he swore he saw angels flapping above him. And the cherry on top was when he finally hilted inside you, becoming one at last.

You laid quietly on his chest as he stroked your hair. It was damp, unlike your body which blazed with an ungodly heat that only hell could compete with. Your heart thumped in your chest, a rhythm unmatched with Leon’s. You couldn’t see his face, and it was probably best this way.

He was your first– a fact you had to come to terms with. You sniffled softly. Even though he forced himself on you, he still made sure to make it not hurt too much. It was too easy to give in to his touches– so you failed to put up a decent struggle. A single tear slid down your flushed cheek. You hated that he was so gentle yet so cruel with you.

For Leon, you would be his last, because he swore he’d never let go of you. He would make you his. Physically first, emotionally second, whatever the order mattered little to him. Because you were now bound to him, your souls intertwined in ways your bodies could never attempt to achieve.

He stared up at the ceiling. There was so much to do, and so much time now that you were his. Today felt good. Great. Pride glowed in his chest and he kissed your damp hair tenderly. You were finally his. Finally his to take and to train.

…

“L-Leon!” you squealed, clawing at the sink that he had bent you over. Jeans and panties pooled at your ankles, sitting on your dirty sneakers. Your lips were bleeding because you bit them to stop your screams.

You always had the wildest reactions to whatever he did. Was it because you were a nervous wreck? It’s been barely a month since he started breaking you in. Quite a bit of time to get accustomed to his antics. Looks like you needed more practice, he mentally noted.

“Shut up,” he hissed, rising to his full length to tower over you. His chest pressed against your back, and you whined at the heat pressed between your butt. “Be quiet or they’re gonna find us.”

You held his gaze in the bathroom mirror, and he placed his hands over yours as you still gripped the sink. Your hair had come undone, a mess that framed your flushed face as you panted softly. Goodness, you looked like a wreck. No thanks to the smug bastard behind you.

The blonde took pride in his work and belted out a laugh. A smack on your ass reeled you over the sink again, and you glared at him. Your eyes screamed: aren’t you a hypocrite? But he answered with a boyish grin that gave you butterflies. The damned smile of the devil himself.

His zipper travelled south and he popped himself out of his pants. He stroked it mindlessly before spinning you around so that you faced him. You stared at him incredulously and he gestured with a nod of his chin.

Leon needed no words, you knew what he wanted. Your bare knees hit the sticky bathroom tiles as you knelt, on tiles where its corners were cracked and filled with dirt that religiously lined its crevices. You took his semi-hard on in your little hand, and it twitched to stand at full length. It curved towards his toned abdomen, jumping in your loose hold. The head was flushed, beads of precum dotted the circumference of the tip.

You looked up at him and licked tentatively. He inhaled through his teeth as you gave him puppy licks, teasing the tip with the curve of your tongue while languidly stroking his cock. His hands carded through your hair, pushing back your stray hairs so that he could see you better. So pretty and willing for him, he grinned, and so eager to please.

A broken moan fell from his lips as you suckled on the tip like a baby on a pacifier. He tugged your hair backwards, and you frowned at him but took him in your mouth fully. You swallowed around his length, and it jumped in your throat as he clamped a hand on your head. He held you steady as he thrust his hips, fucking your throat deep and slow like he liked. He was never the kind of guy to rush a process in sex. Not when your mouth pussy was the perfect toy in the world. All for him to monopolise and use.

He chewed on his bottom lip and groaned. “So good. ‘S perfect for me, shit- Good girl. Taking my cock with your mouth so well- fuck…” He babbled mindlessly, drowning in his pleasure as you clutched the back of his ankles. You gripped onto the scratchy fabric with your fingernails and moaned around his length. Suddenly, somebody knocked.

“Hey. Are you there, (y/n)?” Your father called out. You stared up at Leon in terror, but he was too preoccupied with your throat hugging his dick to even care. You gagged when he jabbed his dick against your gummy walls.

You glared at him with teary eyes, and he gestured at your nose- no doubt reminding you to breathe with it. Gently slapping his legs, you tried to free yourself with a warning look. Leon rolled his eyes and called out, “You’ve got the wrong person. It’s just me.”

“Oh-” your dad recognised him, and he hesitated before saying, this time louder. “(y/n)’s missing, I can’t find her anywhere.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she’s upstairs,” He grinned as he thrust into your mouth. You gagged again, and he chuckled softly as he stroked the top of your head. “Perhaps she’s taking a shower.”

As if something clicked in you, your eyes widened in fear and you tried to pull away frantically. Not that he’d let you, as he held your head in place from the back, fingers tangled with your hair as he dug his blunt nails into your scalp. A warning to remind you of your place. You complied with a weakened grasp on his pants as you lowered your eyes.

Your father muttered incoherently before stomping away. When a minute passed, Leon finally pulled out and you gasped exaggeratedly, a hand rubbing your sore throat.

“You’re such an asshole sometimes,” you whisper shouted through coughs. The fight in your eyes had returned as you leaned against the wall, pants still pooled around your ankles. The man you mistook for a kind person was truly a wolf in sheep’s clothing all along, a ravenous beast that ravaged you whenever he fancied. You knew that now. If only you had known sooner, then you wouldn’t be stuck in this mess.

“You know you like it,” he said in a sing song voice. You crinkled your forehead as he lowered the toilet seat cover and sat on top of it.

He spread his legs and leaned back. His dick twitched against his stomach. Its length shined with your saliva and blood from your busted lips. Your chest tightened as he coaxed you with the wave of his hand.

“C’mon, finish what you started.”

…

Your parents were on to the two of you faster than he’d expected. There was one time when he almost found Leon and you in the restaurant’s kitchen. If it weren’t for the locked door, he was sure your dad (if he could muster the strength) would chop his balls off and frame them above his bed like a banner. That was how much he had grown to detest the regular, evident in the way he would wordlessly slam his dishes down on his table. Maybe he knew what had transpired in the toilet that day. How he fucked your ass and brains out in the toilet til you were a whimpering, unthinking mess. The store had to close for the day because of the lack of help on the sales floor.

Your dad even refused the fat tips for his wonderful service. Oh, whatever shall Leon do?

Your mother was also a bit of a tough crowd. Eyes sharp with distrust, always keeping her daughter by her side in the kitchen. Her death grip on the butcher knife would’ve been frightening if it weren’t for her trembling knees when he gazed her way. Maybe she also knew of that one time he made you squirt in your parent's room, coating their bedroom mirror with your shared fluids as he pressed you against it. Quite the overprotective parents they were.

And for the other regulars, they continued fantasising about their lovely waitress. Not knowing that she was taken by a traitor among them, a guy that kept to himself in the corners, lighter in hand as he lured your attention as always. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you always found yourself in his arms time and time again.

Your parents were in their room next door as you sat in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist. Two bodies clung desperately together, wrapped in a sweaty embrace as he cupped your plush ass cheeks in his hands, hoisting you up and then dropping you so you’d slam down on his length. His eyes, muddied with desire, were locked with yours as your tongues fought for dominance in each other's mouths. A pile of underwear, his and yours– the lacey one with roses and ribbons (from ages ago)– were tangled on the carpet indiscreetly.

Your hands wandered up and down his scarred back. The tip of his cock jabbed against your cervix, and you whimpered against his lips. Fingernails dug into the scar on his shoulder, an indented wound that caused him to exhale through gritted teeth.

“Leon-” you pulled away and rested your forehead against his. Your nose bumped into his as he bounced you, “-I love you. I love- mhn… love you so much…”

The blonde could barely hear your muffled words over the incessant creaking of your bed. But he nuzzled your nose, a smile playing on his flushed face.

“I love you too,” he whispered, and he pressed a tender kiss to your lips. “Love you so much, baby.”

He slowed down his ministries and embraced your lips with delicate kisses. With his twitching cock buried in the depths of your sticky, pulsing cunt, you moaned his name and angled your head for more. Your arms wrapped around his neck in a loose embrace as you stayed like this, sloppily kissing while basking in the moonlight that seeped from your curtains.

You grinded your softness against his body, chest mushed on his sweaty pectorals. A mewl fell from your swollen lips as you gazed at him longingly. “More, need more.”

“Fuck,” he inhaled shakily. He swiped his thumb under the crease of your eye. “You’re such a needy thing. Drunk on my cock this quick already, hm?”

“Yeah,” you smiled softly, “‘Cause it’s you.”

The man laughed quietly– he swore there were butterflies in his stomach. They fluttered around in his depths as if he wasn’t currently balls deep in you. God, he was so whipped for you. He was such a lucky man– he didn’t deserve your smile.

He carefully flipped you over and placed you on your knees. You rested your head on the sheets, leaned forward to tilt your butt towards him. It rested on your crack, and a giggle bubbled from you when you wriggled against his cock. A playful smack on one cheek echoed in your room. You would shoot him death glares whenever he did that. But today you moaned into the sheets and smooshed your ass against his torso for more.

Fuck, he grimaced. How did you get this lewd? Oh it was thanks to him. With his ego mightily stoked, he chuckled and soothed the hand mark with another.

Leon gripped your waist with one hand, another spreading your cheeks to get a better view as he slid himself into your wetness. You were always a tight fuck, gripping hard enough to snap him in half, but today’s descent into you had him arching his own back in bliss. It was like you were trying to milk his balls worth, like you wanted a bun in the oven tonight.

You gritted your sheets in your teeth, strings of drool snaking down your chin as your body rocked up and down the bed. Muffled moans rose in pitch as he speared your insides, his hipbone smashing into your jiggling ass with the relentless snapping of his hips. Dishevelled threads of blonde hair hung over his tightly lidded eyes, bouncing as he chased his high.

“Fuck fuck fuck. I love you. You’re mine-” he rambled as he slammed into your womb punishingly. “-Gonna breed you with my kids. You want that? Fuck, say you want it!”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you babbled his name brokenly. Garbled ‘yes’s fell from your quivering lips, and he snaked a hand under you to slap your clit with his calloused, scarred palm. You gasped and he shoved your head into the mattress when you cried his name in pleasure. A few more slaps and you were trembling like a leaf, your upper body totally collapsed onto the bed like a used doll. Your walls gripped him tightly, ripping out a deep moan from Leon. Then he pressed his hips flushed to your quivering butt and emptied his seed into you.

The warmth in your belly was comforting, the heat spread to the rest of your body as you hummed softly in approval. You collapsed entirely on the bed, and his dick slipped out with a soft sound. Stained with rings of cream, it hung limply between his toned thighs, and you weakly crawled over to run your tongue along one of its veins.

Leon’s cock twitched on your tongue. Amused, he took his phone and snapped a picture of you. He held the screen beside your face, gazing at the matching blissed out expressions you carried in both. He pushed your hair behind your ear as you nuzzled against his leg. Your eyes began fluttering shut, and he gently adjusted your limp body so that you laid down beside him. He pulled your blanket over the two of you and held you flushed to his chest. Your breathing slowed to a steady pace, and he pecked your forehead with his lips.

You deserved a bigger tip the next time he visited. For your generous customer service. He made a mental note and closed his eyes, too tired to care about the rattling of your doorknob across the room.

all content written by @puppyina ! do not repost, edit or plagiarise. requests are open for any past written characters.

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wraithlafitte · 3 months

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crazy on you

pairing: soulless! sam x reader

CONTENT: smut RIGHT under the cut, porn what plot, dom/sub dynamic, s&m, unprotected p in v, usage of sir, bondage, marking, slapping/spanking, riding, dacryphilia, overstim, multiple organisms for both, light possessiveness, choking, pain kink? ig goes with s&m

word count: 2.9k

a/n: prompts used by @loveisanimaginarydagger3000 "Phrases/Actions that have my legs divorcing" @smaoineamhsalach "smutty dialogue prompts" @creativepromptsforwriting "smutty one-liners". all can be found in my master prompt list, linked in main masterlist. dividers by @cafekitsune

nothin' left to do at night / but go crazy on you

The door to the hotel room you were staying in slammed, making you fly bolt upright in bed. You relaxed when you saw that it was only Sam, the guy you had been hanging out with (and fucking) all week. His broad shoulders stretched beneath his worn flannel as he unloaded his pockets onto the side table, followed by a pistol from his waistband.

You didn't really know what it was that Sam did all day, sometimes night, or for a living. You had some inkling that it was violent, seeing as how he often came back bloodied (not always his own). But damn, gangster or not, he was good in bed, so you didn't ask questions.

Tonight he looked okay. The only flaws on his face were bruises from the week past, nothing fresh. His warm brown hair was messy, sure, and when he turned around, you saw that his t-shirt was dark with something that was probably blood, but if he had been fighting, the other guy lost.

"Hey," you called softly, voice thick with sleep. His head snapped towards you like he had forgotten you were there. "Welcome back. Kind of late."

Sam walked toward you slowly like a predator stalking its prey. His eyes glinted in the darkness. "It's only two."

Your heartbeat quickened, knowing what came next. This was the routine: Sam left for hours, came back beat up, then fucked you into tomorrow. You weren't sure when the man slept. You had resigned yourself to taking short naps while he was away.

"You're not how I left you," Sam observed.

Shit. He had told you to stay naked after your escapades last night and to be in bed when he came back. You had only fulfilled half of his requirements.

"I-I had to leave to get food," you offered lamely, knowing full well he had left you a credit card to get room service.

"Right," he said slowly, creeping closer. Butterflies fluttered through your stomach and down to your core.

"I'm sorry," you said, crawling backwards against the headboard. Sam tilted his head. "Sir," you added quickly.

The corners of Sam's mouth quirked up momentarily. "Strip."

"You first," you retorted, a rush of confidence emboldening you.

"Behave, I wouldn't want to punish you now." He looked at you warningly and finally touched down on the edge of the mattress.

You gulped and nodded, making quick work of your pajamas. You hadn't bothered to wear any underwear. "Make it even," you told him, shivering in the air-conditioned room.

Sam's head tilted in the other direction, almost like a dog. "Who do you think is in charge here?" he asked, voice dangerously calm.

You took a deep breath and shakily said, "I just wanna see you."

He chuckled, shaking his head, and peeled off his flannel, followed by the t-shirt that was damp with blood and sweat. "Better?" Sam asked, but the way he said it was almost mocking, like you were pathetic for asking.

His large hands gripped your knees where they were bunched up at your chest and spread your legs apart. He looked down at your pussy hungrily and ran a finger through your dampening folds. Your eyes closed at the sensation and you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth. After a week of being pounded into the mattress for hours at a time, you were more sensitive than you'd ever been in your life.

You felt him grip your wrists and shove them above your head. You opened your eyes to see him grab a blue tie that had been on the nightstand for days and use it to secure your wrists to the headboard.

You whined and pulled against your restraints. Sam just laughed triumphantly and got up from his seat on the edge of the bed.

"Not fair," you complained as he took the opportunity to remove the rest of his clothes. He disappeared into the adjoining bathroom for a minute, you heard water running, and then he was back, sans blood. He approached the bed slowly, lustfully. The look in his eyes was animalistic, and you had been around him enough to know that it pretty much was. You closed your legs instinctively, drawing back into yourself.

Sam kneeled over you and spread your legs again, more roughly this time. "Do I have to tie your legs down too?"

"No sir," you squeaked.

He grabbed your face and hummed, turning it side to side, fingers digging into your skin. You shivered at his touch, somehow giving you so much and so little at the same time. His head swooped down and he began kissing you aggressively, tongue invading your mouth. The taste of him had become so familiar, you relaxed in his hold.

Then Sam released you with a pop and started biting at the skin on your neck and chest, following the marks he had mapped out days before, darkening them. You arched your back into him, straining at your bonds.

"Sam," you moaned shamelessly.

He took your nipple into his mouth, rolling it gently between his teeth. You gasped and pitched your hips up into him. His hand came down to your stomach, holding you down firmly.

Sam took his mouth off your breast and blew cold air over the spit he left behind. "Come on baby, if you want something, use your words."

You shivered intensely. "Just fuck me already," you whined.

He delivered a sharp slap to the outside of your thigh. You jumped. "Language."

"Sorry, sir," you breathed. "Please."

Sam smirked approvingly, moving up to sit against the headboard beside you. He lifted you up and turned you around so that you were straddling him, twisting your bonds so your arms were around his neck. He dragged his wet mouth up your sternum, breath hot against your skin.

You ground against his hard cock with lips pursed, staring him in the eye, daring him to do something about it. Sam didn't care much about making you use your words in that moment, and lined his cock up with your entrance.

You sunk down gladly, feeling yourself stretch around his length. He swallowed a groan, gritting his teeth and giving you that look again. He was restraining himself. For the time being, you were thankful, because you definitely needed to cum at least once before letting him loose on your body.

Sam's hands fell on your hips, urging you to lift up and start moving. You started bouncing on his cock, hips slamming together, his tip hitting the deepest part of your pussy and still not fitting all the way. Your thighs started to burn and shake and you put more of your weight on your arms, using your bonds to pull yourself up. But you couldn't keep it up and started slowing down, whimpering.

The pain seared up your legs into your dripping core. You could come just like this, you thought. Just clenching around him, staying still. Pain sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You closed your eyes and focused on the knot forming in your stomach, willing it to come undone.

But of course, Sam wouldn't let you. He slapped your ass, bringing you back down to earth. "Come on," he growled. You protested, opening your eyes. "You have to work for it."

"Help me," you whispered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you dragged yourself up and fell again.

"No," he said bluntly. He was smiling coldly, actually enjoying your suffering.

You let out something like a broken sob and began riding him again, slower than before as the muscles in your legs cried out for reprieve. Sam kept his hands on your hips, guiding you as minimally as possible, still making you do most of the work.

"Good," he growled. "Keep going."

He bit kisses into your jaw as you rode him, grinding your clit against his hips, head thrown back. Your breasts bounced as you heaved yourself up and down in a broken rhythm, feeling his cock drag through you unpredictably as your hips stuttered.

After minutes of slow building, the knot inside you suddenly snapped, and you were cumming around his cock before you knew what was happening. "Ah- fuck, fuck," you moaned. You couldn't find the strength to keep fucking yourself with him anymore and dropped.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned as you came fully seated on him, feeling the deepest parts of your walls gripping him like a vice.

You collapsed against his chest, exhausted, your arms suspended above you limply. You felt him tugging at your restraints and they came free, allowing your arms to drop to your sides. Then, he lifted you off his dick and let you fall to the mattress on your back.

Sam was back inside you almost instantly, allowing you little time to recover before he was pumping into you roughly. He propped up your legs, allowing them to fall open on either side of his hips as he fucked you into the mattress.

You could hardly catch your breath with the way he was on you, kissing and biting your lips and jaw. Another orgasm started building inside you, faster than you would've liked. Sam sure knew how to draw them out of you, thrusting at a pace that built the most friction and hit your g-spot with just the right amount of pressure to have you squirming beneath him in seconds. He had learned your body well over the past several days.

You came again with a cry, pleasure washing over you blindingly fast, but Sam showed no signs of stopping, instead doubling down. Tears streamed down your face as he pressed your wrists into the pillow by your head, a feral expression covering his face as he drilled into you.

"Yeah, keep fuckin' comin' for me baby," he growled. A whimper fell from your lips. He didn't even seem close. You had no idea how he had this kind of stamina, especially since you weren't sure if he slept.

Suddenly he released one of your wrists to reach down to the place you were connected, rubbing your clit vigorously. You moaned desperately, hand flying to his shoulder and clawing at his back. He threw his head back and moaned himself, pace faltering.

"Yeah? You like it when I do that, huh," he gritted out. Your nails dug into his shoulder, breaking skin as you came around his cock for the third time.

"Sam!" You practically screamed his name, restrained hand flexing into the air, desperate for something to grasp. Sam grunted and kept thrusting into you, fucking you through your high, and then you felt his warmth seep into you as he followed.

He pulled out and sat back on his knees, continuing to rub your clit as your hands grabbed the pillow behind your head in an effort to lighten the overwhelming sensation.

"Oh god Sam, fuck- stop, please, sir," you blabbered. You opened your eyes to see him stroking his cock to you in the same rhythm as he rubbed your clit; slow at first, but picking up speed in response to your moaning and writhing.

Sam smiled unfeelingly, showing no mercy. "Can't you handle it, baby?" he asked wickedly.

Your hips bucked of their own accord. "Yes, I can- fuck, I can handle it," you whined, eyes wide and shiny, staring desperately at him.

The look on his face alone was enough to send you careening over the edge again, thrashing in his grip as you chased more. More sensation, more of his touch, just more of him. You could feel your mascara melting down your face as involuntary tears flooded out.

You felt him spread your folds with two fingers, smearing your wetness around your pussy and thighs. You jolted as his fingers skated over your clit. "So fucking pretty," he growled. "If only you could see how your pretty pussy is leaking my cum. All pink and puffed up just for me."

Your breath came out in little moans as you struggled to think of a response. "Water," came your voice, barely recognizable to yourself. You tried to sit up and find the glass you'd set by the bed.

Sam grabbed you by the throat and threw you back down. "We're not done yet."

You whimpered, looking up at him to find that same cruel glimmer in his eyes. You felt another pang of arousal rush your body. The way he controlled you was toxic, you knew, but it also turned you on insanely to be thrown around and used like a limp rag doll.

Sam's smile was strangely devoid of emotion as he looked you over, his gaze ending on your face. He wiped your wet cheek with his palm. "Don't cry, sweetheart. I'll give you what you need."

His words were sweet but his expression was deadly. You suddenly found yourself wondering what would happen to you once Sam left. Would he just leave you behind, imprisoned by his memory?

Perhaps it would be your blood staining his shirt one day.

Better to seize the moment while it's still here. You laced your fingers up Sam's neck, grabbing him by the hair, and pulled him down roughly to meet your lips in a messy kiss. He growled into your mouth and gripped your waist tightly. His body weight crushed down on you as he slowly thrust his half-hard cock back inside you. You gasped, the walls of your pussy fluttering at the sensation.

Sam hissed, nose and lips pressed into your neck. His long hair brushed against your cheek. You hooked your legs around him, wanting him closer than was humanly possible.

"Come on, Sammy, fu-uuck," you breathed, nipping his ear.

He jolted up, eyes narrowing on you. His hand was instantly back on your throat, and your own flew up to meet it.

"Don't call me that," he said sharply. His hand tightened below your jawline. You grasped weakly at his fingers. You were becoming lightheaded, but his bruising grip was all you wanted.

Your lips tried to form the words I'm sorry, but no sound would come out. Sam started driving into you, holding you where he wanted you by your neck. With each thrust, the pressure on your neck increased, then decreased. Increased, decreased. You gasped in air on the upstrokes and let yourself become dizzy on the down strokes.

Fire blazed in your core, and you weren't sure if you were cumming again or if you just never stopped. Sam hit deep inside you every time, and soon the pleasure was constant and the pain was fading away. Or maybe it was the opposite. You couldn't tell anymore. You could hardly think anymore, Sam the only thing on your mind.

His hand wrapped around your neck. The weight of him on top of you. The feeling of his cock splitting you open for... was it the fifth time tonight?

"Sam," you rasped, eyes rolling back. The hand squeezing your neck loosened for a moment.

"What?" Sam almost looked angry. He always looked angry, seeming like he had some pent-up rage about something to get out.

"Hurt me," you begged. "Do whatever you want, don't stop- ah!"

Sam squeezed your neck once harshly and let go, hand flying to your thigh, scooping your leg up and pressing it forward, calf resting on his shoulder. He slapped your ass sharply, followed by a slap to your face. You cried out in surprise.

"Such a fucking slut," he grunted, pounding into you harder than you thought possible, his tip bruising your cervix, causing a pleasant ache to rise in you. You couldn't even hope to respond, breath coming out in short pants and gasps.

Pain lit your core on fire, mirroring the blaze in Sam's eyes. You came faintly, feeling exhaustion set in and becoming aware of the layer of sweat that covered your body, dripping onto the sheets.

Sam's skin shone with sweat too, but he glowed. You could only lie there and take it, imagining how worn you looked compared to the god of a man above you.

"Good fuckin' girrrll," he said, sounding strained. His brow knitted together, eyes closed, as his rhythm began to falter once more.

"Give- give it to me," you stuttered, struggling to catch your breath. "Fuck, sir- please!"

Sam's arms scooped underneath you, holding you tightly against his body as he buried his cock deep inside you. His voice cracked as he groaned deeply, pressing into you as far as he could as he released inside you again, shuddering.

It was still for a moment. Sam held you caged in between his big arms, breathing heavily, your hips closely attached. Then he raised his head from where it had dropped into the crook of your neck and fell on your lips, kissing you roughly, letting out the last of his energy for now. You kissed him back with fervor, one hand still tangled in his hair, the other embedded in his bicep.

Sam pulled out, releasing your mouth with one last wet suck, and rolled to your side, pulling you with him to hold you tightly. You traced your fingers dazedly up and down his torso, blinking heavily as exhaustion threatened to take over.

Strangely, Sam didn't seem tired. At least, he didn't seem like he was going to fall asleep, like most men would after going that many rounds. He stared at the ceiling, thinking about something you would never learn. But you had come to expect this from him. He would hold you selfishly until morning, and then he would be gone again, leaving you weak and horny and unsure if he would return in one piece.

You supposed if he didn't sleep, there wouldn't be much else to do at night. You were sure this wouldn't last, he would move on and find another girl to pass the time inflicted by his insomnia. When he left, you would remember how he had made you feel, picturing his face with every other partner, always hoping he would come back and rock your world just once more.

#supernatural x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester smut #supernatural smut #spn #spn smut #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #userwraith

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boxofbonesfic · 2 years

Photo

Title: Edge

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Kink Prompt: Edge [Edging]

Word Count: 1,833

Summary: You and your sorority sisters go to a frat party on the old part of campus.

Warnings: Noncon/Dubcon, Drugging, Devil Worship, Horror, Drug use, Smut, Darkfic, AU: Dark, Dead Dove: Do not eat, Minors DNI!

A/N: entry number six!! i hope you all enjoy. divider by @firefly-graphics

It’s the buzzing you’re aware of first, the noise reaching thin fingers in through your eardrums to poke at your subconscious. The steady, low drone breaks through the hazy gloom of unconsciousness, and you follow it back to the waking world, opening bleary eyes to stare around the room. It looks like a storage area, with furniture covered in white sheets, crates and boxes stacked in the dusty corners. There are old, tarnished looking candelabras on almost every surface, with thin white candles burning in an effort to fight back the darkness.

Sensation follows after. Sharp pleasure, almost uncomfortable in its intensity, rockets up your nerve endings burst like fireworks behind your glassy eyes. You whimper, writhing as you try to dislodge the pressure at your core.

“Welcome back, baby,” the low drawl draws you further out of your stupor, and you lick at your chapped lips as you squint around the room. Bright points of light float across your vision, dancing like motes of dust in the still, thick air. Fingers snap right next to your ear, and you wince, moaning as you try to shy away. Something hard digs into your wrists as you try to pull them down from their position above your head, and it takes your addled brain a moment to recognize the thick leather straps for what they are.

Restraints.

“W-what, what’m doin’ here?” You mumble, the words sloshing together drunkenly in your mouth. The buzzing grows louder and you huff through your teeth as warm, honeyed pleasure blooms in your addled brain. Your hips arch upward before falling back down onto the mattress underneath you. Even as your vision swims, you’re able to recognize the grinning face of the man who squats in front of you. “Ran..?”

“Hi, baby.” He’s still wearing his devil costume from earlier, the plastic red horns sticking up out of his otherwise neat and impeccable hair. Your recollection of this evening are blurry and run together like wet paint, but you can recall bits, pieces; dredging the pieces up from the murky mess of your thoughts. The memories are patchy and dull like old film, but they’re there.

You remember arriving at the party, wobbling up the stairs to the frat house in your heels, being welcomed by the butler—what fucking frat house has a butler?—and being handed the thin, silver necklace that still lays against your bare breast. “A welcoming gift,” he’d said. “Everyone gets one.” You remember leaning against the wall, your arms folded against the heavily-used one-liners and generic complements—Ransom introducing himself with a flourish, baggies of brightly colored pills held between his fingers—

“It’s better than what anyone else’ll try to sell you in this shithole. Just one, you’ll be flying all night.”

Ransom squats down beside the thin mattress, clucking his tongue at you.

“There she is,” he replies snidely as you drag your bleary eyes up to his. “I have to admit, I was getting a little impatient.” Something clicks, and the buzzing between your thighs grows in volume and intensity. You squeak, huffing through your teeth at the shocking pleasure. The vibrating wand is pressed tight against your clit, wedged there between your thighs. You whine as he changes the rhythm, the pulses further apart but no less powerful.

“H-el-p,” you cry out the syllables hoarsely as Ransom rubs at your thighs. He chuckles, easing them apart with a wide grin. His teeth look almost too sharp in the candlelight, and for a moment, his eyes look sickly, sulfur yellow instead of the clean, crystal blue you remember.

“Oh baby. I don’t think anyone’s going to hear you.” You struggle against the straps as his fingers slide through the slick between your thighs, but your feet slide weakly against the mattress, your limbs limp and uncooperative. Ransom picks up the vibrator, his eyes gleaming as he circles your entrance with it. “Everyone else is quite busy.”

Over the muffled sound of distant music and conversation, you hear something that sounds like a wail. It’s cut short, ending abruptly as Ransom clucks his tongue.

“See?” He runs his tongue across his lips almost thoughtfully before he lowers them to your temple. “Busy.” You loose a whine as you feel yourself begin to stretch around the toy, Ransom’s fingers fluttering from your swollen, sticky clit to your entrance and back again. You don’t know how long you’ve been like this, fading in and out of wakefulness as Ransom toys with you, but by the way your cunt desperately clenches around the tip of the toy, it must have been a while. He pulls it away as your stomach begins to knot, hips arching up towards the vibrator.

Your already sluggish thoughts are further muddied by the pleasure, and it’s hard for you to remember why you didn’t want it in the first place. The window of clarity offered by your adrenaline is beginning to close. Your skin is hyper-sensitive, and every nerve ending practically sings when Ransom places the vibrator back against your clit.

“Stoppit,” you say clumsily. “Ran, Ion’t wan’t—”

“Shh, shh. I don’t care.” Briefly, the shadows behind him seem to roil and swell into a colossal hulking beast with horns and a crown of black fire—“The deal’s struck, baby. All signed and sealed up nice.”

You want to argue that you don’t remember signing anything, only the words jumble together loosely in your throat and then refuse to come together at all, a stream of babble bubbling up from between your lips. Briefly, you recall stumbling after a hooded figure, a sharp pin pricking the pad of your thumb, pressing it against yellow, old parchment and leaving a dark, bloody thumbprint—

He tosses the vibrator away, and it hits the floor somewhere behind him. The respite from his onslaught is brief. You cry out as Ransom attaches his mouth to your pussy, his tongue slithering through your folds as he hums with approval.

You’re panting soon, whining and writhing as he curls his fingers against the softness of your hips. Something’s wrong, but you don’t know what, can’t quite grasp the thought as Ransom lashes your clit with his tongue.

So close, so close—

He pulls away as you crest, and the lack of sensation keeps you from falling over into bliss. You whine, tugging uselessly at your bound wrists before looking frantically at Ransom, your eyes glassy with tears.

He wipes your slick from his chin before tapping it with his index finger. “What is it?” He manages to look pleasantly irritated. “I know you can see I’m busy.” You grit your teeth as he circles your puffy, wanting entrance with a finger and then sinks it in. “Well?”

“Pl-please,” you mumble, your slurred, desperate plea louder than the muffled protests ringing in the back of your mind. Ransom rises from between your legs, and makes quick work of the red sweater and black slacks. He leaves the horns on, though, and dizzily you wonder why you can’t see the headband they’re attached to. Ransom drags his thumb across your lips before he reaches above your head, and you feel his hand play at the straps.

Even if you could think to run now, your legs wouldn’t hold you up. You reach feverishly for Ransom, and he obliges, slotting his hips between your thighs.

“You want to cum, don’t you baby?” He asks, his lips twisting snidely as he slaps his cock against your cunt. You whine, nodding eagerly. He fists it in one hand as he slides the other against your pussy, cupping it. He draws back only to push against your entrance with a groan. “If you squeeze me real good, maybe I’ll let you.”

You shudder and moan as he sinks in, the stretch both too much, and too good to stop—though you’ve no choice either way. Ransom’s breath whistles out through his lips appreciatively.

“Tii-iight,” he draws the word out into multiple syllables. “Fuck, you feel like a goddamn fist.” Ransom’s praise makes you tighten around him even further, and he curses. Finally, you feel his balls slap against you, and you choke out a strained breath, fingers scrabbling at his sturdy shoulders. You press your head back against the mattress when he pulls out and sinks back in, your mouth open in a blissful o.

His cock seems to take up every available bit of space inside you, filling you until you think you might burst. He fucks into you with slow, deep thrusts, and you sink your teeth into your lower lip as he leads you again toward the edge—only this time, he doesn’t stop as you approach. You cling to him desperately, and Ransom snarls in your ear, his fingers digging into your hip and shoulder—

“Cum.”

There is no God present to stop your descent into sinful bliss—and perhaps there never was. You are washed in warm, sticky pleasure, your body convulsing as finally you do, you cum, whining and crying. You’re a blank slate as the pleasure washes over you, dragging you down into unthinking satisfaction. It rolls over you in waves, crushing your conscious thoughts beneath it. Ransom’s hips still, and he huffs through his bared teeth as your cunt milks him dry. You can feel the scalding warmth of him against your insides.

You stare up at him blankly as his eyes go that sickly, yellow green once again, and you could swear the tongue that passes over his lips is forked.

“The deal’s just for tonight, but,” he taps you on the tip of your nose as you pant up at him. “I think I’ll keep you.” His eyes fall to the cleft between your heaving breasts. They narrow with distaste as he glares at the pendant resting there. “Take that off for me, would you sweetheart?”

No. Your fried synapses are unprepared for the vehemence and certainty of the thought. You’re not… you’re not supposed to take it off, though you can’t remember why. Dimly, you can recall snatches of instructions, repeated harshly as you struggled to stand—

“Nnnngh,” you mumble, your head rolling on your neck as you try to shake it. “No’ s’posed to.”

Ransom rolls his eyes. “Take it off.” His voice is loud, too loud, and all around you like it’s being spoken by infinite mouths. It beats uncomfortably against your skull, like it’s something you’re not meant to hear. You whine as the discordant voices grow louder and more demanding, their shrieking vibrating in your bones as you writhe—

You rip the necklace off, the thin silver chain snapping as you pull at it like a madwoman, flinging it into some unseen corner of the room while Ransom heaves a pleased sigh.

“Good girl.” He licks his lips, and again you smell something rotten, sulfur— His eyes gleam in the dark like a cat’s as he leans over you. “Now we can have some real fun.”

fin

Hello friends! I no longer maintain a taglist, so please follow @box-of-bones-library for updates and new work, thank you!

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cvntrlseecvntrlvee · 3 months

Text

► seventeen's wonwoo ◄

[♡]=personal favs, [♕]=smut, [☼]=fluff, [☁]=angst

O∙N∙G∙O∙I∙N∙G∙∙∙∙F∙I∙C∙S

↳ challenge me by seokgyuu — ♡, ♕ | ?k

you have never been a person who turns down a challenge, but when your best friend challenges you to hook up with 13 boys in one semester you kind of wish you were.

↳ x + y = you and i by angelwonie — ♕ | 8.6k

you wish jeon wonwoo would sometimes act like an insufferable prick instead of the perfect guy, because then you wouldn’t have to feel your head spinning each time he looks at you.

C∙O∙M∙P∙L∙E∙T∙E∙D∙∙∙F∙I∙C∙S

↳ a break (wonwoo, mingyu) by smileysuh — ♕ | 15.6k

You and Mingyu live a perfect life. He’s an idol by day, and a doting husband by night, who showers your new baby with adoration. Life is easy- but when Mingyu starts paying more attention, he realizes why things are so easy: because it’s not just the two of you raising your baby, there’s a third person involved, and your baby has no concept of what differentiates a dad from a baby sitter.

↳ anteric (wonwoo, mingyu) by smileysuh — ♕ | 16.6k

when you bump into the guy that ghosted you, your model best friend and roommate, Mingyu, steps up to be your fake boyfriend for the night... and when the asshole is hired at your workplace, your other roommate, twitch gamer Wonwoo, is roped into the charade too - “polyamory exists dude, get over it.”

↳ besties (wonwoo, mingyu) by smileysuh — ♕ | 15.2k

Your best friend drags you to a frat party despite your budding relationship with a man named Mingyu, and your best friend even convinces you to let loose, after all, you might not be single for much longer… however when he tells you to let your freak flag fly and kiss randoms- neither of you can foresee the massive blunder you make when ‘some random’ ends up being the best friend of your new ‘boyfriend not boyfriend’.

↳ blown up love by starsstuddedsky — ☼ | 7.1k

gaming is all fun and... well, games, until you start crushing on the only person that takes pity on you and saves you from mobs.

↳ chocolate rum cookies by wonwoolight — ☼ | 3.5k

↳ cuff (vernon, seungcheol, wonwoo) by smileysuh — ♕ | 4k

You and Vernon have been together forever, and your relationship is almost perfect… but it’s missing something. When the young member mentions wanting to spice things up a bit in the bedroom, his hyungs Wonwoo and Seungcheol are more than happy to give you and Vernon some in-person lessons.

↳ cupid by yoongiseesawmp3 — ♕ | 9.3k

brother’s best friend!seungcheol. you move in with your brother joshua while you look for a new place, so you finally meet his best friend and roommate seungcheol.

↳ desperate by toruro — ♕, ☼ | 3.7k

when your husband starts to get more and more busy, you naturally grow needy. it’s only after long game of cat and mouse that he finally gets you to fess up about what's been bothering you, and it's safe to say your answer is definitely not what he's expecting.

↳ favorite by wonusite — ♕ | 9.3k

When Professor Jeon realizes his most earnest student is no longer paying him the attention he craves, he goes to great lengths to make sure he’s the only one holding her attention.

↳ for the books by trblsvt — ☼ | 2.2k

wonwoo's students seemed intent on matching him up with a fellow teacher. he didn't really want to stop them, it was too funny for him to break up their fun. plus, he didn't mind the certain someone he was being "set up" with.

↳ good to me by moonhoures — ♕ | 1.3k

date night ends with some overwhelming pleasure

↳ lucky! by 97-liners — ☼ | 1.3k

the fanfic trope where a character wakes up loopy after wisdom tooth surgery

↳ meet cute of the century by lovelyhan — ☼, ♕, ☁ | 25.4k

the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by

↳ my way to you by wonwoonlight — ☼, ☁ | 3k

You don’t remember a time when you don’t have Wonwoo by your side. But when things happen and you’re left to deal with your feelings, you can’t help but wonder if what you have with him can be framed under the name of friendship after all.or, alternatively, Wonwoo’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember and he doesn’t know if he should be thankful or not that you’ve never suspected him for it

↳ rogue by smileysuh — ♕ | 15.5k

“Lay back,” he instructs next. “I’m going to take your panties off.” Your heart races in your chest as you realize what he’s about to do, and you fall onto your elbows on the hood of his car, breathing heavily as Wonwoo leans down and begins to press kisses up your bare legs. His fingers hook in your panties, and he drags them down, exposing your hot core to the cool evening air. You can’t help the gasp that leaves you, and as Wonwoo positions your thighs over his broad shoulders, you think you might actually faint from the tension.

↳ royal advisor!wonu x crown princess!reader by 97-liners — ☼ | 9.5k

↳ sehnsucht by leejihoonownsmyheart — ♕ | k

You and Wonwoo have been rivals since your first of University, and despite it being your final year, that rivalry doesn't seem like it's going anywhere soon when you both end up in German 101.

↳ sir, please by gyuwoncheol — ♕, ☼ | 3k

Wonwoo doesn’t mind keeping you at the edge if it means watching you fall apart.

↳ knock on your door // still knocking on your door by 97-liners — ☼ | 4.3k

au where you’re roommates with mingyu’s girlfriend. they have a big anniversary coming up, so mingyu bribes convinces you to switch rooms with him for a week, and he gives you those pathetic puppy eyes that he wields like a weapon and you can’t say no to those eyes, so you agree and move into mingyu’s room for a week. except what he didn’t warn you was: his roommate, wonwoo, is hot. and mingyu evidently hadn’t warned him that the roommate exchange was happening

↳ wanna be yours by viastro — ☼, ☁ | 8.9k

you thought that growing up as best friends meant you’d stick together for as long as you could. you never thought of that exact chance for you and wonwoo until entering university, where you were nothing but his driver when he was out partying for too long. so why do you still pick up the phone when he calls you if he’s the one who left first?

↳ where you return (mingyu, wonwoo) by miabebe — ♕ | 7k

After almost a year of no contact, you meet an old fling at a wedding

R∙E∙A∙C∙T∙I∙O∙N∙S∙∙∙S∙C∙E∙N∙A∙R∙I∙O∙S

#masterlist #fic recs #fic rec nav #wonwoo masterlist #svt masterlist

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ambiguouspuzuma · 8 months

Text

The all-nighter

Ever pull an all-nighter? Oh, sure, you must have done, a wild young thing like you. You'll know how it feels; the initial slog, wading through the mire of your tiredness; then all of a sudden pushing through that barrier, like breaking down the gates of this castle, and flooding into a night of possibility - buoyed by second wind; then the crash, as time claws back what you borrowed. Operating, just about, but coasting on automatic. Like some sort of undead creature, one might say: moving, but dead behind the eyes.

Oh, you can always medicate - with snuff, caffeine, eye-drops - to stay your drooping lids and lolling head, but it never lasts. Nothing does; no distraction, no comfort against endless silence, even the sweetest song fails to call an echo from the void. The more time you have, the more it seems to drag - like traversing a lake as shallow as it is wide, with your rudder catching in the weeds. Have you ever captained a windjammer? A tug boat? A longship? No, I suppose not; a wild young thing like you.

Fatigue is a form of drug, is it not? You feel the highs, the lows; the heavy head, the loosening of inhibitions, a blurring of boundaries. There is the loss of care, sometimes, that comes from being wrapped in wool, but there are also moments of intense vulnerability: tender and flayed raw, like a red-eyed hangover in the glaring white of dawn, before the numbing fog descends again and you embrace it as a form of waking sleep.

Immortality is like that, if you wish to know. After the second lifetime, or the third, you learn to push through that barrier: to power onto the next few decades, then the next. But it costs you. Over time, over quite so much of it, you cease to function clearly. I no longer catch human diseases, but exhaustion has taken root inside my brain, an influenza that dulls my thoughts and saps my energy, even as it leaves my lungs and other organs quite alone. You will have noticed that I keep the castle cool and dark, the windows shuttered against daylight. That is no accident.

Oh of course, I am rambling, but please, pray, permit me prattle on for just a moment more - I have so many of them, you see, that I have quite forgotten any sense of their worth. What cost, a minute of your time? It is no matter. You will take from me centuries. This is what I ask of you, to be blunt, or the sharpest I have been in years: you must kill me, or at least you must try. Immortality makes it difficult to die, but it also makes it harder to live. I hope that you will ease my passage either way.

It isn't that I have any trouble sleeping. Your kind are noisy in the daytime, it is true, but I have come to enjoy that ambience, to listen to the lullaby of humansong as I descend into my dreams. For you, I suppose it would carry an echo of the cradle; the light under the door, the comfort of knowing that, as you drift safely off to sleep, that others remain watchful and awake.

For me, it recalls a cruise liner: the thrum of the engines underneath one's bunk, the sense of being carried, swaddled, relinquishing of responsibility. The aeroplane, even more so: I know some fear to fly, but I find it the most relaxing of sensations, to place your life entirely into expert hands, to remove any element of personal control over your fate. To me, that is true peace.

I sometimes wonder if this is religion. Your kind seem to wish to delegate, to pass such choices up the chain of command, and find peace in finding themselves part of some almighty's greater plan. They need for governments, communities, their simian intelligence overwhelmed by the burden of choice. There must be some tranquillity, in letting others steer your path. The relief of surrender.

So yes, I doze well in the days, in the rooms between the walls, the rafters over your heads, knowing that my life is in your hands. It is only the number of those days that troubles me; even good sleep grows tiring, and beckons restless dreams. You are fortunate, perhaps, to have a limit set. I will not age, will not die - unless by my own hand, or one sufficiently armed - and thus I am left with that impossible choice. I am responsible for calling time, but I can never know when that should be.

I have mused on it for many a tortured morning, but can never bring myself to choose. It is such a final choice. Each night, I am tempted by the promise of one night more - to sleep on it, if you will - but in the knowledge I will say the same tomorrow... and oh, do they start to rack up. But then I watched you, in the forest, how you dispatched that stag, and saw a lifeline in amongst its noble death.

Perhaps I always knew this was the path; when I first opened the grounds to the public; when I first planted this forest, or had it planted, those centuries ago; when the trust inherited my home, and I did nothing but continue to live under their roof, occasionally closing the shutters and turning down the thermostat; when they opened it as a hunting retreat, and offered accommodation in refurbished rooms, and I remained despite the noise.

Here - under the letter, you will find a bullet, and find that it is sterling silver, alloyed with copper to render it less soft. A bullet needs some bite, you will understand, even if it is the metal which carries my doom; even the deadliest venom first requires fangs, a vehicle to pierce the skin and distribute its poison in the blood. Next, you must find me. I am here; was here before your birth; will always be here, until you decide to change things.

You may come looking tonight, if you are indeed willing to stay up late, or tomorrow - forgive me, I do not know the length of your stay - or perhaps you will return in a month's time, with some unfinished business. It will be worth your while. I carry with me a token of my gratitude - this time in gold, and this for you to keep. Just return me my silver, at a time of your choosing, but with speed when you do.

There - it is done. I leave fate up to you. Does it weigh heavy, on those broad shoulders? I saw you carrying the gun, and death seemed nothing in your hands. But a stag does not write, and explain, and plead for you to hunt it down. Would that make it easier, do you think, to pull the trigger? Or harder, perhaps - to know it has a soul? Either way, I leave this burden upon yours. It belongs to you, now, my awful choice - and hope that I may sleep more soundly with my life now cradled in your palms.

#writing #writeblr #short story #fantasy #writers on tumblr

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radgalniya · 1 month

Text

cowboy carter album review:

this album has so much context i know i’m missing so i’m not going to talk too much about the themes or lyrical backgrounds and just focus on the music. beyonce knows she wrong for not adding liner notes to this album but i digress. also the ratings are on how much i like the song NOT on how good they are because artistically every song is pretty perfect. such high quality and artistry, no shock there.

american requiem: 6/10

love the beyonce choir. makes me wanna go join a civil rights march idk lmao. probably will only listen to this one on a full album listen tho.

blackbird: 8/10

i wish we got more of the other singers singing the main lines rather than mostly just the background, but i still like it. reminds me of butterfly fly away from the hannah montana movie. not my favorite but i’ll come back when i wanna feel like someone’s singing me a sweet lullaby or when i’m maladaptive daydreaming that i’m sitting around a campfire on a beach in an old southern town singing tunes.

16 carriages: 10/10

iiiiiiiii love this song. so much. since it’s been released, i’ve been listening to it non stop. it’s so beautiful and perfect. one of my absolute favorites. what a single. it’s perfect.

protector: 7/10

the acutal lullaby song. so pretty. so soft. so sweet. i like it.

my rose: 4/10

what rose are we talking about beyonce lmao no but anyway this is too short like i hate mini songs pls. but eh i’m not feeling it anyway.

smoke hour willie nelson: n/a

texas hold em: 10/10

so fun, so catchy, the rhythm in this one is so infectious. “this beat is vivacious”. i love every melody in this song. the slowdown is insaneeee. her ability to blend genres in a way that’s actually interesting and unique issss ugh amazing love her.

bodyguard: 10/10

as soon as the song started, i texted my best friend telling her i loved it. i knew from the first beat. this song is so perfect. i could listen to this forever and never get sick of it. i loooooove it. shoulda been a single imo

dolly p: 10/10

okay ik this is just an interlude but the jolene instrumental sounds sooo beautiful in this and the “jolene” sample thing i love it. plus dolly. this isnt even a song but i want more of it.

jolene: 8/10

okay idk how i feel about this cover. i dont like the lyrical changes. it does feel more beyonce than the original but i liked how dolly never put down or shamed jolene. i like the vulnerability and softness in the original. i dont like the harsher approach in this one. HOWEVER if this song was softer like the interlude OR the choir at the end for the whole song, it’d be a 10/10 for me. i’m actually so mad the choir part was so short bc i loooove it.

daughter: 7/10

i’d relisten but probably not as often. it’s beautiful but idk it just doesnt catch me. the opera at the end is beautiful. and the song is so nice. but it’s just not my favorite.

spaghetti: 7/10

controversial opinion but i dont usually like rapyonce. i like beyonce singing on a rap beat but rapping idk. makes me cringe. the more i listen tho, the more i like it. again i do love how she blends genres in this so flawlessly. the ending is my favorite part of the song, so nice also i love the beat.

alligator tears: 6/10

i don’t care to listen to this one again tbh. doesn’t really catch my attention. i like the outro tho. idk y she always makes the outros outros and not just the song.

smoke hour ii: n/a

just for fun: 6/10

will relisten but not my favorite.

most wanted: 10/10

never thought i’d get a miley cyrus/beyonce collab but im so grateful i’m obsessssseedddd. i looooove it. it’s so beautiful. so romantic. perfect in my eyes.

levii’s jeans: 10/10

i hate post malone and i’m mad beyonce chose to work w him rather than idk a black female artist. you let this nigga sing a whole verse but barely let the other black country female singers on blackbird get in a line??? idgi. but goddamit i love the song. so romantic in a kind of sensual way with the country twang. one of my favorites. i cant even be too mad. he ate his part up.

flamenco: 8/10

i love the flamenco in this lol. it’s too short tho ugh i hate mini songsss. idk it’s somehow not my favorite. flamenco and beyonce sounds perfect but this song didnt really catch me as much as id like it to. still like it tho and will relisten.

the linda martell show: n/a

ya ya: 9/10

love the 60s black southern rocker vibes in this. the instrumental is so insane i’m obsessed. so fun, so dancey. you cant not dance to this. and her vocals remind me so much of tina turner.

oh louisiana: 7/10

i actually like this even tho it’s just like an interlude. not much to say about it tho.

desert eagle: 9/10

that BASS?!?! absolutely thank u. too goddamn short!!! like i wish there was more to it. more everything.

riiverdance: 9/10

that banjo(?) lick is so addictive. another fun dancey song. again, love the genre bending. i like this, will relisten. i kept waiting for like a climax tho? idk. i wish there was one.

ii hands ii heaven: 6/10

not my favorite, probably wont relisten to very often.

tyrant: 9/10

another genre bender. i really like it. the chorus is so good and addictive. “i dont like to sit up in the saddle boy i got this” YEA!

sweet honey buckiin: 7/10

genre bender lmao i’m gettin repetitive i know. i just get what she means now by saying this isnt a country album, it’s a beyonce album. not my favorite but i like it some. will relisten from time to time.

amen: 8/10

love a beyonce choir.

overall even tho every song wasnt a hit for me, the songs i love, i love so much that it makes this album a 10/10 for me. they’re so interesting and unique but still melodic and catchy and i loooove it.

#beyonce #chronicles of niya #music #cowboy carter #act ii #renaissance #act ii: cowboy carter #album review #music review

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highlifeboat · 3 months

Note

Gotta say, i prefer ending for original RE3 better. Feels more... personal.

Also Jill's final one-liner is better there :p

https://youtu.be/Dudnj7Z0whw?si=BoylXqoH1_DXIhsH

I dunno about personal. But I also have never played the original 3 so I don't know anything about who's flying the helicopter or whatever.

I like Carlos' vibe in this one a little more more (all 5 second I see of him). He seems more goofy.

ALSO "Umbrella's gone (going? I can't really hear it) down." over "The ashes of Raccoon City would be Unbrella's ashes, too." is criminal. I mean, Remake Jill's monologue about "Human greed creates monsters" is kinda cheesey and voiced very much like it came straight from an old RE game.... Actually what am I saying, both these lines suck. The second one is just more poetic imo.

I think they feel about the same tbh.

Also this is a tangent cause I'm using it as an excuse to talk about 3, but I just love the remake's Final Boss Fight because Jill is just fucking FED. UP. with Nemesis by this point.

LIKE--THE WAY SHE LOOKS AT HIM????

THIS FUCKING LINE THAT SHE SAYS LIKE SHE'S TIRED OF PLAYING FETCH WITH HER DOG?? AND THE "Come at me bro" STANCE??

This is a woman who is DONE dealing with this guy and it's SO funny to me. As if he's just a pain in her side and not something that has been actively trying to kill her the whole game.

I will say, I prefer that in the original Jill doesn't hold the rail gun and it's just mounted because...

This is fucking ridiculous.

#Jill is the strongest non mutated woman in the resident evil universe apparently #cause this is WILD #but it makes me laugh #asks #horror lady00 #this game got so actiony near the end but i love Nemesis' final boss design so it's fine #i'm also activly choosing to ignore Carlos exists because I don't like him #Like he didn't grow on me like i original thought #cause like sometimes characters i start out hating but then they kinda become a fave (Like Billy. I never talks about RE0 but I love him)#but Carlos started out meh and ended meh

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downrightembarassing · 2 years

Text

Creep

Stuck traveling through hyperspace is boring, so you decide to have a little fun by yourself, which eventually involves Cad Bane and thoroughly humiliates Rako Hardeen.

Fair warning, this fic is downright mean to Obi-Wan Kenobi/Rako Hardeen. I wanted Cad to have a win.

Warnings: trash, F/M, 18+++, P in V, voyeurism, cuck, kinda, dub-con, fingering, Cad’s an ass and I’ll stand by that, toxic, proofreading is not my jam, written while sleep deprived, self-indulgent, barely coherent, self-love?, idk what tags are blocked now homies, not canon, but Obi kind of a sad sack

Inspired by an amazing fic by @galacticrepublicwarcrimes

Anatomy as always inspired by @sinisterexaggerator

——————————————————————-

Hyperspace is boring.

I mean, yeah the ability to cross inconceivable distance quickly and the blue glowing tunnel is fascinating the first couple times, but you’ve been hopping rides across galaxy for over a decade now and it’s just…boring. This trip is going to take a while, one end of the Galaxy to the other. The geriatric cruise liner you’re traveling in doesn’t help, just heaps of filthy empty cabins. The only decent livable space is the main entryway, behind the cockpit and everyone on board made do with whatever bedding they could salvage.

Unfortunately the main entryway is also full of egotistical, annoying, downright arrogant bounty hunters and they can not seem to. Stop. Arguing.

I mean, granted you’re a bounty hunter, but you’re really hoping you’ve never been this bad. Why had you agreed to this job again? Oh yeah. Credits.

The noise from across the hold gets louder.

Cad Bane and Rako Hardeen. Those two had been at each other’s throats since the start of this job and it just seems to escalate. Insults are flying across between the two and it’s getting unbearable to stay in the same space.

Bane’s hand twitches towards the blaster slung against his thigh, probably a habit formed after wearing that massive trench coat for so long. That subtle movement, pushing the coat out of his way. Even though he’s not in it now the movement is an indication of his intentions, a threat of violence.

It’s your cue to leave. No reason to get caught in the crossfire between two idiots and their egos. Standing up and stretching your shoulders you trot off to explore the scrap heap hurtling through hyperspace.

——-

A half hour or so passes and you stumble across a slightly less filthy room. It was obviously an office at some point, the ornate desk and chair in the center of the room point to the ship’s luxurious past. There’s a closet against one wall, large enough for coats and not much else besides.

Settling yourself in the ornate chair you take a deep breath, no blaster shots had echoed through the ship so it’s reasonable to assume the two jackasses had controlled their respective tempers. Your mind wanders to the blue Duros.

Cad Bane. You’ve heard of him, who hasn’t, but this was the first time you’d set eyes on him. Tall, thin but with a surprising amount of strength in his lean body. Watching him sneer at Hardeen, thin lips pulling back over fangs and the toothpick clenched…long fingers twitching for a blaster.

Well shit, you think, managed to turn yourself on girl.

With another glance around the room you settle further back into the chair, unlace the front of your trousers, and slip a hand inside.

Nothing better to do in hyperspace after all.

——-

Cad Bane leans against the cold durasteel of the ship’s hold, hat pulled low, toothpick rolling idly between his thin lips. Everything about this job has been an annoyance. Every annoyance has centered around that damn sniper. A rattle rolls through his chest. Should have just shot the bastard, instead he’s sitting across the length of the ship getting some rest of his own.

Hyperspace is boring. Especially when he’d rather be putting that annoying sniper in his place…or putting a bolt through that annoying sniper. He rolls his shoulders, settling deeper beneath his hat. Even the hat is an annoyance, it’s not his usual.

A movement by the door draws his attention. That pretty little human wanders back into the main hold. She’s enticing for sure, all curves and long silky hair with a slight flush to her cheeks.

Bane ignores her, this is a job. No time for shenanigans like that he muses, as he watches her stroll back to her corner. But it would be nice to relieve some…tension.

Being in the business as long as he has, the Duros has learned not to miss details. Even the small ones, a tiny shift could be deadly. So he doesn’t miss Hardeen’s head raise, Hardeen’s eyes trace up and down the form of the woman as she saunters by. That’s interesting.

The smell hits him hard, wafting after her. Musky, warm, and pouring off that sweet little human as she moves past. Bane inhales, letting his olfactory organs process the information. So, the little slut had indulged in some…relief to ease the boredom. That’s very interesting.

——-

Obi-Wan Kenobi groans slightly, slumping the unfamiliar body of Rako Hardeen lower into the floor. This disguise is wearing on me, he grimaces. After a few cycles it’s so easy to slip into the mannerisms of the sniper, react aggressively when normally there would be calm.

That damn woman saunters past him, and Hardeen’s body responds. At least Obi-Wan blames it on Hardeen’s body. Jedi are above those baser instincts.

But still he watches, taking in the swing of her hips and the slight flush on her cheeks. At least someone on this blasted ship is in a good mood. Watches her stretch, all curves and smooth skin, and settle in to wait out this journey.

He copied her motions, keeping an eye on Bane. Obi-Wan can’t ignore the hunter completely, doesn’t trust this fragile truce. So he resigns himself to a long wait.

Time and the blue light of hyperspace pass by. The ship is quiet, everyone lost in their thoughts or getting some rest. Obi-Wan glances at Bane again. The Duros has his hat tipped down and appears to be sleeping.

Obi-Wan stands, rolling Hardeen’s shoulders and stretching Hardeen’s muscles. If he can find some privacy, he just might be able to make a call. Keeping half an eye on the hunter, Obi-Wan wanders seemingly bored, before slipping into the bowls of the ship.

Fifteen minutes later he stumbles upon an office, tucked out of the way, with an ornate desk, chair, and closet. It’s moderately cleaner than the other rooms he’s explored and far away from the central hold and the suspicious red glare of the Duros.

Obi-Wan stands still, calming his mind before communicating with the Jedi counsel, letting go of the violence and anger his borrowed body surged with. One more deep breath, calm calm calm…

The door handle turns. His eyes snap open and he darts for the closet, forcing Hardeen’s larger frame into the small space. The door to the room opens as Obi-Wan quiets his breathing and peers out a poorly fitting seam to see who wandered in.

That woman strides in, takes a quick look around, and slides that perfect ass into the seat behind the desk.

Obi-Wan watches as she leans back in the chair and braces both booted feet against the table, spreading her long legs.

Obi-Wan watches as she moves her hands down her body, caressing and toying with herself, before unlacing her trousers with a small sigh.

Obi-Wan watches as she slides a hand inside her trousers, palms a breast with the other, and whimpers out a gasp of pleasure and she tips her head back.

Hardeen’s body is enjoying the show. It has to be Hardeen’s body, as Obi-Wan chants calm calm calm in his head. There’s no way a Jedi would react to this, watching a gorgeous woman enjoy herself in the most base way.

He watches her put her fingers to her mouth, tasting herself before slipping the soaked digits back between her legs. A drawn out moan tumbles from her lips as she continues her efforts, hips bucking slightly with each stroke.

It HAS to be the Hardeen’s body, Obi-Wan thinks desperately. Has to be Hardeen’s cock, which is now fully erect and pressing painfully against the light armor of his pants. It has to be Hardeen’s traitorous hand that unbuckles the cod piece, unties the trousers, allowing his engorged length out, tenting against his undergarments.

Obi-Wan grits his teeth against a groan that threatens to spill out at the relief. Relief that is short lived as the woman in the chair lets out a keening high pitched whine. He can hear how wet she is, soft sounds as her fingers run through her soaked folds.

Force, he hopes she’s quick and he can get out of this closet before he does something humiliating.

——-

Despite Hardeen’s assumption, Bane knows better than to sleep on a job like this. Instead he pulls his hat low, rolls his toothpick slowly, and watches. He saw the little human glance his way occasionally, blush staining her cheeks. He saw Hardeen carefully treading towards the back of the ship. He saw the same little human stand and pad off a few minutes later, the smell of her arousal leaking from her pores.

Well that won’t do.

The bounty hunter rises as she dissapears down the hallway. Might as well give her a head start, his predatory instincts rising at the thought. After a few minutes he follows, using his superior sense of smell to track her. His cheeks move as he inhales, practically tasting the scent of her as it leads him to a closed door.

On the other side of the door then, he’s sure of it. By the scents drifting out she’s already been very busy.

There’s another smell too. Male. Bane’s hairline lips pull back into a sneer. If Hardeen is in there with her Bane has no qualms pulling the sniper off her and throwing him out the door…maybe through the door.

Replacing the toothpick in his mouth he quietly opens the door, prepared to show that horny little minx how much better a Duros can be.

The door opens softly and Bane is greeted with an impressive sight.

She’s in the chair, legs splayed wide, hands down her pants. He takes it all in, the flush on her chest, head thrown back, and lips parted around her mewling pants. He can hear the slick sounds of her fingers working between her thighs.

And the smell, musky, warm, slightly sweet. His alien anatomy is already pressing hard against his leathers.

No Hardeen in sight, but the other smell, the male arousal, is in the room. Moving his eyes carefully he spots the closet. So the creep is getting off watching her play with herself, and her unknowing she has an audience. Perfect.

“shit, WHAT THE HELL…”

Oh good, she’s realized he’s there.

——-

You jerk your hands from your core, sitting up so fast a muscle in your back twinges in protest. Your face is on fire, blush moving through your face so fast you must be beet red now.

Guess coming back here for a second round was a mistake.

“What cha’ up to li’l lady?” Bane’s deep gravely voice slices through the tension in the room and adds another layer to your humiliation.

“It’s a long trip…I….didn’t think anyone would…” Your babbling sounds inane in your own ears. Taking a deep breath you force lips into a sneer. “Don’t you know how to Fucking KNOCK!?”

He takes a long look up and down your frame, and you’re sure you look like a mess. Flaming red, panting, disheveled hair, and a scowl twisting across your lips. His searing gaze takes it all in. You stare defiantly back.

A chuckle, rattling up through his chest and his modulated voice cracks across the room. “It’s yer fault missy, I’ve been smellin’ how hot an’ bothered you’ve been alllllll day.”

He swiftly closes the door and steps up to you, looming over you as you glare up at him and fumble with the closure on your trousers.

Another inhale, a deep rattle, and he smirks, showing his canines in the dim light. “I saw ya’ starin’”

One massive hand reaches for you, taking your chin captive in long fingers. “Saw ya’ blushin’”

Your eyes widen as heat surges through your core. One large blue digit traces your bottom lip, and your breath hitches.

Jagged teeth flash through his filthy smile.

“Just lay back princess, ol’ Cad Bane is gonna’ help ya relax”

——-

Obi-Wan is mortified. The spectacle in front of his is true debauchery but he can’t look away. That pretty little woman giving herself to an absolute animal of a bounty hunter.

He’d expected…hoped she’d say no. Tell the Duros to fuck off, as it had sounded in the beginning. Storm out and let him end this whole humiliating experience with some dignity left intact. But no.

He watched as Bane made quick work of her clothing, exposing her fully and placing her on the desk. He watched as the hunters blue hands crawled across her body, kneading her smooth silky flesh. Teeth nipping at her throat and breasts until she was covered in marks. It was obscene.

Now he watches as one long finger penetrates her dripping cunt. She throws her head back with a wail, leaning back and spreading her thighs to give the criminal easier access. From Obi-Wan’s vantage point he can see blue sink into pink flesh, gently…almost teasingly, stroking her walls. She cries out, pleading for more.

Hardeen’s body will be the death of him. His foreign cock is painfully hard, leaking pre-cum into his undergarments. Unable to help himself he pulls out the borrowed member and begins stroking it. His pace increases as the sounds pouring from her lips increase in volume.

Bane inserts another finger, increasing his own pace as she howls above him. One hand reaches up and smacks her lightly across a pretty cheek before wrapping fingers around her throat. Obi-Wan almost breaks, almost rushes out at the rough treatment, but the way her cunt clenches around Bane’s fingers stops him. Instead he strokes Hardeen’s cock faster, tongue trapped between his teeth to keep himself quiet.

Bane leans over her, still viciously pumping his hand into her wet heat. Obi-Wan catches bits of the filth he purrs into her ear.

“Knew ya….like it rough….such….dirty li’l thing……gonna cum…on my hand…….”

Obi-Wan watches her back arch, thighs shaking, and slick pour out of her to drip down the Duros’ hand. The gasping moan of Bane’s name through her lips sounds almost like a prayer as he continues to stroke her through her climax.

His climax rips through him violently, and his vision blacks out as he spills himself over his hand and down the front of his pants. Obi-Wan drags in a ragged breath and he pumps the aftershocks into his fist. His release drips to the floorboards of the closet.

His vision clears and embarrassment burns through him. Hardeen’s body or not he’s better than this, masturbating to the depraved scene outside a closet. He should be better than this…but a deep groan from the room pulls his eyes back to the peep hole.

Cad Bane has pulled himself out, blasters discarded on the desk. Twin inhuman anatomy, stacked one on top of the other spills out from his pants. His eyes are half lidded, stroking the upper cock while she’s on her knees, enthusiastically swallowing the lower one as deep as she can go.

Obi-Wan can see the slick down her thighs, evidence of her own climax and growing arousal. He watches as Bane fists a handful of her hair, forcing his length deeper down her throat while she chokes and gags around him. Her muffled whimpers and moans are a counterpoint to the praise the hunter rasps above her, telling her how well she takes it, so good, so hot, so wet. At this moment he could almost hate Bane, listening to the sounds of the hunter’s gratification from her eager little mouth.

Hardeen’s cock twitches, quickly becoming fully erect again.

——-

Cad Bane hadn’t had a hyperspace crossing this good in ages. He had smelled Hardeen’s release, could sense the snipers embarrassment and shame for enjoying the scene in front of him. Bane had angled the woman’s hips to give him the best show after all.

Now that tight, HOT cunt was gripped around his length as she writhed beneath him, begging him to move, to fuck her. He’d groaned as he slid into her, enjoying the silky scorching heat against his cooler anatomy and almost forgetting about Hardeen in the moment. Almost.

Time for the finale.

He pulls out halfway and snaps his hips hard back into her cunt and she lets out a high pitched, keening whine. One massive hand keeps her thighs spread, and the other strokes his upper cock, making sure to grind the base of it into her sensitive clit as his other cock pounds into her.

“Look at chu’….takin’ this Duros..so….fuckin’………well.”

He increases his pace and she clenches around him.

“Gonna…gonna ruin ya’….fer any other dick, ain’t that right?”

She shudders beneath him, winding up tighter and tighter as her climax rapidly approaches.

“Yes…fuck…YES!” She gasps out.

“What ‘chu say, ya’ ruined?” As he slows his thrusts.

“Please…oh god…..PLEASE Cad. I’m ruined…ruined.”

He returns to his punishing pace, feeling the slick heat spread where their bodies are connects. Three hard pounds later and she’s cumming, clenching and spasming as she screams out her climax beneath him.

He feels her heat, the wet gush of her release down her thighs and his hips stutter. One more deep push and he’s filling her up as the convulsions of her body milk every drop, while he strokes the upper cock and paints her torso Duros blue.

——-

Your mind is fuzzed, completely senseless after the most intense orgasm you can remember. The hunters sticky release coats your body and dimly you drag a finger through it for a taste.

It’s tangy, not a bad flavor at all.

Bane is above you, panting slightly and still buried to the hilt. His grin is downright cruel.

Quicker than he should be able to after an orgasm, he raises a gauntleted wrist, aims a lasso at the closet, fires, and pulls the door open.

Twisting your head slightly you see Rako Hardeen, wide eyed in shock, pumping his cock furiously as his release spills over his hand and down his thighs.

“Enjoy da show Hardeen?”

A rattle sounds deep in the Duros’ chest.

“Not polite ta watch a lady when she don know yer dere.”

Hardeen’s face turns bright red, almost obscuring his tattoos. His mouth gapes open, but he still has his cock fisted in a chokehold.

Bane arches a brow ridge at him.

“Might want ta go clean yoursself up, leave da lady and me ta enjoy ourselves without da audience.”

Hardeen swallows, throat bobbing. He almost falls out of the closet in his haste to get away, stumbles to the door, and dashes out with his cock flopping uselessly over his cum coated pants.

You gape at Bane.

“Did…did you just use me to HUMILIATE HARDEEN?!”

The bounty hunter pulls himself out of your tender cunt with a lewd sound.

“None a that now princess, ya had fun too.”

He stares at the mess on your body.

“Now that we’re alone I’m gonna fuck dat tight ass of yours. Still gotta long ways to go on dis ride.”

You stare at him, fucked half senseless and dumbfounded.

He smirks down at you and begins stroking his already half hard cocks.

#cad bane x reader #cad bane #writing

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