Das Kaiser

Totally Original Fanfic, Art and ETC Dedication Blog 24 | Any Pronouns

[daskaisser]

He really said he was gonna mog and then leave the movie im crying.

[armitagehuxsleepschedule]

armitage hux is so fucking funny because sometimes he has these borderline cartoonish exaggerated facial expressions and other times he has Thee most lethal face card in the first order. the duality of man or something

[daskaisser]

It's even funnier when you analyze it and he's just disgusted or perturbed most of the time.

This scene in particular cracks me up cause its so ABRUPT I can't help it.

[daskaisser]

I want you to have this.

[armiestice]

If you ask so nicely hehehe @damiengravehill

I'd cook so many delicious things for them I swear

[daskaisser]

HELP THEY ARE ADORABLE I MUST GET TO THE DRAWING NOWWW

[daskaisser]

I want you to have this.

[daskaisser]

Notes: I do not 'write' my lore down, I don't outline, I don't draft, I don't document, I IMAGINE it. And If I forget it, I START OVER. Additionally, my blog contains NSFW and is NOT a place where minors should dwell. I got broken up with halfway through writing this, so I stopped giving a fuck. And it shows. May the 4th be with you. CW Tags: Jedi!Reader, Non-Con/Dub Con, Rough Sex, Degradation, Humiliation, Hate Sex, Force Orgasm, Creampie etc. Words: 2.4k

You woke slowly. The scent of burnt hair and something metallic lingered in your nostrils. It was the first thing you’d noticed next to the throbbing pain lingering on the left side of your head. Starting from the back, it traced around to your temple. Something warm and sticky, likely blood, had caused your hair to slick and dry against your scalp. You could feel the uncomfortable stiffness of the dried blood going down your neck. The second thing you noticed was the darkness. The only nearby light came from a faint blue holo display projecting your Imperial wanted poster. After a moment, your eyes adjusted, struggling to see beyond the blue light.

As you did so, you noticed a third thing. A pair of stun cuffs around your wrists. Your eyes trailed from the cuffs to the chain connecting them to the table situated in front of you. Old, icy durasteel pressed against your forearms. How had you gotten here? You wondered. Thoughts lingered amid the eerie hums in the background. You closed your eyes, forcing yourself to recall something from the chaos inside you.

Fragments came here and there. A flash of red, your heart racing. The slew of emotions that had consumed you in the pursuit. Fear, anger, and an overwhelming sense of loss you’d long thought had passed after the Jedi Order had fallen. Force, had it really been that long? You’d been hiding for so long that you’d nearly forgotten there was ever a time when you weren’t fighting for your life every day. Where you weren’t questioning every connection you attempted to forge.

Contemplation was cut short by the sounds of heavy, armored footsteps and the clink of a lightsaber hilt against metal. The sound grew closer, a twisted feeling in your stomach and a strange, biting cold came over the room. The blue hue of the holo display reflected off the metal plates worn by the stranger that emerged from the darkness. The best way to describe him was ghoulish. He stood tall, his frame slender. The worn armor he donned padded him out nicely. It worked to make him seem more intimidating than his natural build may have allowed. Not that the energy he brought to the room alone didn’t already do the job.

You tensed as his cloak swept the floor when circling around the table. He stopped behind you, one of his gloved hands sliding over your shoulder and firmly grasping it. You’d caught a slight glimpse of yourself in his visor. The sight was a mess. Your hair was greasy, matching the wild gleam in your eyes, akin to a wounded animal. Dirt caked your cheeks, down to your shoulders, where your tunic had been ripped only to show the undertunic beneath it. Blood, as you’d suspected before, caked the left side of your head down to your collarbone.

The sound of your heart pounding in your chest swelled in your ears as you felt the freezing metal of his visor brushing by your cheek. Goosebumps erupted on your forearms from the contact. A cruel and unwanted comfort compared to the dull throbbing you felt on your left. His sickening, sinister voice made your skin crawl as he swiped a fleck of dirt off your face in a mocking fashion.

“Jedi,” he began, his modulated voice breaking the eerie silence. “Finally awake.”

You hesitated to reply, staying silent, muscles tensing at his touch. His voice made you flinch, your eyes remaining straight forward so as not to have to stare at his armored face.

“All that calm and serenity… and here you are, at my mercy,” he commented. The other of his gloved hands snaked up through your locks and gripped them harshly. With a sharp tug, he pulled your head back to bare your neck to him. The sharp, jagged edges of his helmet scraped against it. Your breath hitched at the warmth of his leather glove radiating against your scalp. His other hand, the one on your shoulder, tightened its grip as his modulated voice lowered in your ear. You could barely feel his breath through the gaps in his visor.

“You put up quite a fight on that backwater planet. Almost impressive. But you know what I want.”

In a swift yet rough movement, he jerked your head forward into the table. A whimper of pain escaped from between your lips. His body loomed over yours, almost pressing into your back as he leaned down to impatiently snarl in your ear.

“You’ve protected them this long; how many more will die before you finally break?”

He pressed closer, his chest plate rough against your back. You felt the hard edge of his armor flush against you as his gloved hand slid slowly down your side, stopping just above what little remained of your tarnished tunic.

“I won’t tell you anything,” you whispered, voice trembling. “I won’t help you slaughter them.”

His body pressed harder against your back, the cold steel of his chestplate a harsh contrast to the heat of his gloved hand still fisted in your hair. The grip tightened, sending sharp pain through your scalp as his free hand traced from your shoulder down to the collar of your tunic. He paused just long enough for you to feel the threat, then ripped it open with one harsh tug. A gasp escaped you as icy air bit at your bare back and shoulders. More goosebumps erupted across your skin while his gloved fingers slowly trailed down your exposed spine, tracing every bump and scar.

“Brave words,” he snarled, voice low and dangerous. “But I can feel you trembling. Tell me where the Path leads next, or I will break you until you can’t help yourself.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to answer. The cold air nipped at your bare skin, making you feel far too exposed. His fingers continued their slow trail down your spine, stopping just above the waistband of your leggings. The touch was almost too gentle. It made your stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with how afraid you felt.

Marrok noticed. A low, amused chuckle rumbled from behind his modulator.

“Nothing to say?” His hand slid lower, fingers gripping your hip firmly. “Interesting. Most start talking by now.”

He shifted closer, pressing his armored chest more heavily against your back. The heat of his body against the cold durasteel made your skin prickle. You hated how aware you were of every point of contact, especially the hard line of his codpiece now resting firmly against your ass.

“Tell me,” he hummed, voice dropping even lower as his fingers traced the edge of your waistband. “Does it scare you more that I might kill your friends… or that part of you is curious what I’ll do instead?”

Your throat tightened. A flicker of unwanted heat curled low in your belly, shameful and insistent. You tried to ignore it, but your body betrayed you with a warm pulse between your thighs. Marrok rocked his hips forward slowly, letting the hard codpiece grind against you. 

“Look at you,” he murmured, the edge of his helmet brushing your ear. “Already getting wet for the man who’s going to hunt down every last one of your friends. Pathetic.”

His fingers dipped just barely under the waistband of your leggings, teasing the sensitive skin there with slow, cruel strokes.

“Tell me where the Path is headed,” he demanded, voice dark. “Or I can keep playing with you until you’re soaking and desperate enough to beg.”

Marrok’s fingers stayed teasingly at the edge of your waistband for a moment longer. Then, without warning, they dipped further under the fabric. Your breath hitched as his gloved fingers stroked through your hot, slick folds. A low, satisfied rumble escaped his modulator. He pressed two digits against your entrance, not pushing inside just yet. At the same time, the hand gripping your hair yanked back sharply. A jolt of unwanted pleasure shot through your abdomen as he pulled you against him. His helmet rested coldly against your temple while he finally pushed his fingers inside you.

You fought to stifle the sounds rising in your throat, but each slow thrust of his fingers made it harder. Your walls clenched around his fingers despite the shame coursing through you. Your cheeks burned as your body trembled with each ruthlessly precise stroke. A long, choked moan escaped your lips when he curled his fingers inside you. Your hips bucked back involuntarily against his hand. Hot tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You hated how eagerly your body reacted to his touch.

“Moaning so sweetly for me already. Does it feel good, Jedi? Knowing the man who will destroy everything you love is the one making you fall apart?” His modulated voice taunted as he continued stroking his fingers inside you, deliberately pausing every time your hips tried to chase the motion.

He shoved your head back down onto the table before releasing your hair. The strands fell messily into your face as he straightened up. All you could hear was the sound of his belt loosening, followed by the heavy thud of his codpiece hitting the floor. A warm, heavy heat pressed against your ass— a stark contrast to the cold steel that had been there moments before. He yanked his fingers out abruptly. Another whimper escaped your lips at the sudden emptiness. With one brutal motion, he ripped your leggings down and off. Cool air hit your aching, exposed cunt, pulling yet another choked noise from you. Your fingers curled tightly into your palms, hard enough to leave indents.

You felt his length slide from the curve of your ass down to your slick entrance. Your cunt throbbed as he prodded the head of his cock against it, your arousal coating him with every slow stroke between your folds. An impatient whine escaped you involuntarily. Your forehead dropped to rest against the cold tabletop. Once again your hips pushed back, only to be stopped by his hands gripping you tightly. A sharp slap to your ass made you whine louder.

“Beg for it,” he rasped, still teasing you with the head of his cock pressing against your entrance and barely slipping in before pulling away entirely.

“What?” you croaked out.

“I said,” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back before delivering another harsh slap to your ass, “beg for it.”

You paused, hesitation and shame twisting in your chest as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks. “P-Please…”

Marrok wasted no time. He slammed his cock inside you with one brutal, uncaring thrust. His hips quickly set a punishing pace, slamming your thighs against the edge of the table with every stroke. His hands moved from your hair to grip your hips tightly, using them as leverage as he drove into you.

“Louder,” he demanded, punctuating every word with a deep, brutal thrust. “I want to hear how pathetic you sound begging for me.” The words struggled to leave your throat. Every thrust sent a painful jolt of pleasure through you. Your walls clenched around him, eager to take him deeper even as fresh tears streaked down your face. Every other motion was met with the sound of your reluctant mewls and whimpers as you tried to keep your voice steady. Eventually, a long, drawn-out moan escaped from between your lips. Another broken moan followed as he yanked you back onto his cock. He stopped for a moment to roll his hips against you, making sure he was buried deep, pressing against that spot you couldn’t quite reach.

“Please—” you choked out, not sure whether you were begging him to stop or to keep going. “Please!”

“Please?” he mocked, thrusting deep again before holding himself there. A dark, amused laugh escaped from him. “Please, what Jedi?”

Shame bubbled in your gut. You were sure it was written all over your face.

“P-Please—” you choked again.

Marrok snarled. In one sudden movement he began fucking you harder, his thrusts turning vicious and punishing. The metal legs of the table groaned and scraped against the floor, mixing with the loud, rhythmic sound of his thighs slapping against your ass. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back sharply, keeping up his brutal pace as his other hand came down hard, delivering a sharp slap to your ass. You felt another jolt in your stomach, your walls fluttering and clenching involuntarily. The heat in your gut intensified. And between your broken sobs, you begged yourself not to let him bring you to your peak. To not let you fall apart all over him. You clenched your fists and bit your lip as you shut your eyes and tried to fight it.

Marrok remained silent as he rutted into you. His violent movements never ceased, but there was a hint of fatigue as his rhythm wavered. Between the creaking of the table, the scraping of the floor, and your own moans, you heard his breathing become ragged behind that mask of his. His hand gripped your hair tighter, and another sharp slap connected with your ass. You felt the coil in your belly snap. There was no warning for it either. A shattered cry tore from your throat as you came. Your body thrashed and twitched, fingers digging into your palms so hard you could feel them breaking skin. Your entire body shook as wave after wave of unwanted pleasure consumed you.

He never relented, his hips slamming into yours through your climax. His hips stuttered, and you could feel his breathing become uneven as he neared his own finish. A snarl escaped his mouth as he slammed your head down onto the table. With one final brutal thrust, he buried himself deep and came hard, flooding your abused cunt with hot, sticky cum. After a few moments of silence, he slowly pulled out, making sure you felt every inch of him leaving you as his cum slowly dribbled down your thighs. He gave one last sharp smack to your ass with his gloved hand.

You shivered as his cum ran down your thighs, shame burning in your chest even as your body still twitched from the aftershocks of your ecstasy.

“Pathetic,” he said coldly, casually adjusting himself and placing his codpiece back on. “Now… are you ready to tell me what I want to know?”

[gffa]

[detroitbydark]

I will reblog this everytime I see it until my dying day

[daskaisser]

Notes: I do not 'write' my lore down, I don't outline, I don't draft, I don't document, I IMAGINE it. And If I forget it, I START OVER. Additionally, my blog contains NSFW and is NOT a place where minors should dwell. CW Tags: Boss/Employee Relationship, Power Imbalance, Praise Kink, Cock Warming, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Dom/Sub, Desk Sex, Orgasm Denial, Uniform Kink, Possessive Behavior, Mild Degradation Words: 2.6k

The usual sterile corridors of the Finalizer still smelled of scorched metal and ionized air hours after the disaster had taken place. Starkiller base was gone— reduced to cosmic dust along with many valuable assets, and worse, Hux's carefully cultivated reputation.

General Armitage Hux stood in the center of his private quarters, overcoat shrugged off, leaving him in just his simple black uniform tunic and trousers. His red hair was slightly disheveled from constantly running his gloved fingers through it in barely contained fury. The datapad in his other hand, though, displayed casualty reports, lost production quota, and the inevitability of a tantrum from Kylo Ren once he recovered. For now, his bright eyes stared out of the viewport. The vastness of space was a simple, comforting quiet to his overactive mind. No— his stressed mind. He had been fighting to organize his thoughts, his face weary with it. So much so that he had dark circles under his eyes.

You entered quietly, as always, carrying the latest data from the bridge as well as a steaming cup of caf. The door hissed shut behind you as you stepped closer, hesitant to disrupt the General when he was deep in thought. Or worse, being on the receiving end of one of his notorious outbursts.

"General," you said after some time, voice steady despite the tension filling the space. "The revised fleet dispersal recommendations you requested."

Hux didn't look up immediately. His gaze still locked on the void just outside of the viewport. When he did, his pale eyes were as sharp and cold as ever. But, also, exhausted in a way you'd never seen before.

"Leave them on the desk." he ordered, a roughness behind his crisp accent that made your stomach tighten.

You obeyed, of course. You never took the chance to disobey an order from General Hux. Setting the datapad down, you lingered for a moment. There was hesitation, your hand still lingering over the device. You'd learned the signs by now.

"Everyone else is incompetent," he muttered, finally tossing his own datapad harshly onto the low table beside him. It clattered with more force than necessary. "Ren’s tantrum has cost us everything, and the officers beneath me waver like leaves in a vacuum. But you—" his gaze dragged over your form slightly. "You at least know how to follow orders."

He crossed the room in two strides, one of his gloved hands catching your chin and tilting your face up. It caused a jolt in your lower abdomen. 

"Strip from the waist down," he ordered abruptly before releasing your chin and crossing the room once more. This time to his desk by the viewport. Lowering himself into the chair with practiced ease. “I need clarity of thought, and you are going to provide it.”

The air in the room felt like it was sucked out in a matter of seconds. Not from discomfort, but from how hot you suddenly felt. Your entire body heating up as your cheeks flushed a deep red, all the way down under your uniform to your collarbone. A slight waver came over your voice as you began to speak.

"General—"

He cut you off with the swift raise of his gloved hand. His intense gaze locking with your own.

"That was an order, was it not?" he asked, his voice sharp yet edged with something else. "And you don't disobey orders."

It was only after another brief period of silence that you began to undo the belt of your uniform. The only sound between you was the metallic clink of your belt falling to the floor. The soft, flustered breaths you took with each individual movement and the rustling of fabric followed by a soft thud on the floor. The only thing left to remove were your undergarments. The soft material hugged your curves nicely. You could tell he thought so as you looked up to catch the gaze he had on you. A hungry, impatient look hidden behind a mask of stoicism. But it was clear in his eyes, he wouldn't wait for you much longer.

"Come here." *he beckoned with one gloved finger. His voice curt and unwavering. 

The tone sent shivers up your spine in a way that felt shameful. That twist in your stomach fluttering as you made your way to him. The feeling of his free hand sliding up your bare thigh, just past the apex till it reached up to the button of your tunic. The look in his eyes, as it had been before, was hungry, yet more intense somehow. As if he was fighting for control of himself while he undid every little button with such little effort.  The heat you had felt in your face before was now clashing with the cold air hitting the bare skin of your midsection. The feel of his gloved hands coming up slowly, savoring every bit of skin as he pushed the cloth aside and off your shoulders. His eyes taking in every single inch of your exposed body.

“There we go… that’s better.” he murmured, before leaning in and sliding his tongue from your belly button to right below the swell of your breasts in a single wet stripe. His hands clamped to your sides as he did so.

The feel of his hot breath so close to you, his hands on your hips, and the intensity in his gaze made you pulse in arousal. You felt yourself clenching around nothing, wanting to squirm but forcing yourself to stay incredibly still. Your breathing hitched as you felt his lips latch onto your nipples, drawing a whimper from you shortly after. Curling your fingers into his red locks, you couldn't help the noise that escaped from between your lips as he teased your stiffening peaks with his teeth. 

"G-General-" It was such a pathetic whimper, but he was swift to cut you off.

"Hush." *He murmured before his eyes shot up to lock with yours. Eventually moving and leaning back in his chair. With a deliberate calm, despite the look in his eyes, he reached down and opened the front of his trousers just enough to free himself. His voice came out low, clinical. "Turn around. Face the viewport."

Your eyes lingered on his hardening cock for just a moment. It looked firm, you swear you could see it twitching. The head was red, desperate as if begging to be touched. A contrast to the man who seemed to be in control of himself in the moment. But you obeyed, like always, turning your back to him and facing the viewport with zero push back.  He wasted no time. Gloved hands gripped your waist with bruising force, guiding you down onto him. The blunt head of his cock nudged against your entrance, slick with your own arousal, before he pulled you lower in one slow, excruciating motion. 

A broken sound escaped from between your lips as he filled you. Inch by inch he sank deeper until your ass was flush against his clothed thighs. You felt yourself trembling, the stretch of his throbbing cock filling your tight heat was so deliciously dangerous. He was a perfect fit.  Hux himself let out a low, measured exhale through his nose. The only sign that he felt anything at all, his hands remained firm on your hips. He leaned in close, his hot breath ghosting over your ear. 

"Quiet." *he murmured, his voice still low and clinical. But there was an air of strain to it. "You're going to sit there and keep my cock warm like a good aide while I work. No moving, no whining. Do you understand?"

You nodded impatiently, biting your lip to stop the whimper wanting to escape as you clenched around him. He felt impossible, he was impossible. How could you ever keep quiet when he was so deep inside of you? Throbbing, and filling you with warmth you'd never felt before, nestled right up at that spot that could make you see stars.  He reached around you, plucking up the datapad that had been previously forgotten. It was as if nothing had changed, like he wasn't nestled inside of you.  The other hand laid flat on your stomach, keeping you close against him at all times. His thumb stroking lazy circles just above where he was buried inside you. When he shifted you could swear he had the faintest smirk in the viewport's reflection. He must know the movement was driving you crazy. 

His cock twitched inside you, one and then twice and you had to fight the urge to rock your hips. The need to move, to whimper, to do something was maddening. You were impossibly soaked, your arousal already starting to coat the base of his shaft and the crotch of his trousers.  His eyes were lazily tracing down the screen of the datapad. Ever a man focused on work, and torturing you, it seemed. But you knew he found some pleasure in this. A pleasure in having total and complete control over your movements. You hadn't even noticed your breathing had become heavy til he spoke again after what felt like an eternity of waiting. 

“Look at the viewport, pet. Stars and nothing, all while you’re dripping around your General’s cock like a desperate little cockwarmer. Pathetic, really." His voice was clipped, professional but laced with filth. 

He shifted slightly beneath you once again, just enough so he pressed deeper for a moment before going still. A soft, satisfied hum leaving his mouth as you muffled a whimper with your hand. 

"Clench for me. Slowly. I want you to show me how much you need this." he said as he nipped at your earlobe, his interest going back to the report on his datapad. 

You obeyed, and even if you didn't want to, your body reacted for you. The walls of your slick fluttered and squeezed at his shaft. The ache in your abdomen wishing so desperately to take him deeper, for some kind of friction. Your entire body was screaming with need. A lump formed in your throat as you focused to control your breathing, clenching the sides of the chair with trembling fingers. Your heart beat a mile a minute with anticipating.  One of his hands came up, absentmindedly fidgeting with your breast and rolling a stiff peak between his gloved fingers. Not even bothering to glance at the mess he's made of you. He was seemingly unfazed at the slick forming a dark spot into the crotch of his trousers. Every tiny movement he made sent sparks straight to where the two of you joined. But he refused to let you move. 

"Good girl," He breathed in your ear before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. "Keep doing that, and maybe I'll let you come after I've finished these reports." 

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The only sounds were the faint hums of the ship, the occasional tapping of Hux's finger on the datapad, and your own labored breathing. Every time you trembled, clenched too hard or even seemed to consider moving he'd deliver a sharp thrust upward. Just enough, of course, to remind you who was in control of the situation before going still again.  His sharp thrusts kept coming in short, irregular intervals. Just enough to make your walls flutter again. Oh so desperate for that sweet friction, for just a hint of release. Each time his cock thrusted up inside of you, a broken whimper threatened to escape from between your lips. Each time though, you swallowed it down, terrified of disappointing him. 

In a way, you like the small praise he'd give you. It would make your stomach knot tight in a way you couldn't quite describe. Even when he mocked you, called you pathetic or desperate, you liked it cause it was followed my praise. And no matter how small it was, you craved it more and more with each passing moment. 

"You're shaking," Hux's voice cut through the silence again, low and approving. His fingers tugged at the nipple he'd been playing with. Twisting the pebbled bud before massaging it again. "So perfect, so desperate. You're being such a good girl, the rest of this ship could learn a thing or two from your discipline."

His gloved fingers continued their lazy torment on your breast, pinching the sensitive bud again just hard enough to make you clench harder around his length. The wet sounds of your arousal had been hard to ignore before, but now it was harder than ever. Especially with the growing dark spot on his trousers from your arousal. He didn't seem to care.

Another eternity passed. Your thighs ached from holding still.  Every throb of his cock inside you felt like a taunt. You were so full, so close to that edge, yet completely denied any satisfaction.  His hand eventually left your breast to glide down your stomach, stopping to rest over your swollen clit. He didn't touch it, stroke it, he didn't even tease it. His hand was maddeningly still. 

"Beg for it." he said, kissing against your shoulder, his eyes still not looking away from the datapad. "Tell your General how badly you need to be fucked properly.”

You swallowed hard, the words coming out of your mouth jumbled and messy. "Please, General, I need you. I need you to..fu-fuck me properly. I've been good, please! I can't take it anymore!" 

The moment the plea left your lips, Hux's demeanor shifted. You only heard the datapad clatter before he stood, keeping you impaled on his cock. In a matter of moments he had you pressed against the viewport, cold glass against your aching tits. One gloved hand pinned your wrists behind your back while the other yanked your hair. 

"You think you've earned it?" he growled, thrusting up into you with short, brutal snaps of his hips. "Dripping on my trousers like a needy. fucking. harlot!"

A broken, strained moan tore from your throat. The pleasure was too much. His assault on your body was making your mind impossibly cloudy. You felt him press against your back, lips brushing your ear as he fucked you harder against the glass.  A broken moan tore from your throat. Hux leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he fucked you harder against the glass.

"You're so pathetic." he snarled, biting at your earlobe before his lips grazed down your neck to your shoulder where his bit down again. The small jolt of pain caused you to clench around him again. "But you're my pathetic little aide. Mine to use." 

He kept his pace steady, yanking your hair hard as he pulled himself back to watch your ass bounce against his thighs. He used your wrists as leverage to angle himself better. Hitting that impossible spot deep inside of you, causing you to see stars.

“Come. Now." he snarled again, barely able to form a coherent sentence as his hips stuttered. He felt himself growing close, he felt your heat clamp down on him. The twitching, the way you had started instinctively trying moving your hips back against his thrusts. He knew you were both close. "Come for me, pet. Be a good girl- fuck!"

Your orgasm crashed over you without warning, walls fluttering and squeezing around him as your vision became filled with stars.. Hux groaned loudly, pressing himself into you as he spilled his warmth inside. His breathing harsh, both your bodies slick with sweat. He placed his head against your back, slowly letting your wrists go before kissing up the side of your shoulder.

"Good girl." He murmured gently, sliding his arms around you to bed. The cup of caf you'd brought for him earlier long forgotten. 

[charlesoberonn]

[cowboybarnes]

i love that it’s canon that john gets flustered easily (see: ava and yelena teasing him in the back of the van). i want that man blushing at all times. he looks like the kinda guy who would turn red all the way down to his chest.

[daskaisser]

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ Notes: Hello! I know not many people saw this while it was up, but I wanted to take the time to clarify for the small chance anyone remembers this that I took it down for my own safety as I had some individuals in my personal life find my initial blog. This should not be an issue going forward! CW Tags: Light Bondage, Blowjob (Male Receiving), Dirty Talk, Cum Swallowing, Unprofessional Behavior, Not Canon Compliant, Sexual Overstimulation, Uniform Kink (If you squnt) Word Count: 1.3k ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Drip... drip... drip...

Water echoed throughout the basement, each drop louder than the previous in the thick, musty air. It smelled of mildew and wet concrete. Like the place hadn't seen fresh air or another life form in years. Dust floated through the cracks of weak sunlight slipping through the broken foundation. It was disgusting, wet, and out of the corner of his eye he could see all manners of creepy crawlies moseying about their business.

John Walker sat tied to a chair, his arms yanked behind the backrest. His wrists burned where the rope dug into his skin. His blonde hair clung to his forehead in clumps, sweat pooling along his brow, beading on his nose and trickling down his neck. The humidity was brutal, unlike the Georgia heat he managed as a child. He felt as if he were fighting tooth and nail just to breathe through a sponge.

His suit, a mass of blue, black and white, felt like a damp rag wrapped around him, sticking in all the worst places. It was as if it were melding to his skin. Every shift made the feeling just that much worse, but staying still was driving him crazy too. It wasn't just the stick of sweat and the smell of mildew that did so. It was the humiliation and the failure of defeat that did so. He could feel every second tick by in this damp hellhole, and with each one, the sting of failure set deeper.

He let out a low breath which sounded loud in the empty basement before muttering to himself. "Hell of a mission, Walker, fantastic job..." his voice trailed as the door at the top of the basement steps creaked open.

His head jerked up, body tensing almost instinctively. A pair of footsteps, measured and deliberate, formed a familiar pattern down the concrete steps. Not Hydra as far as John could tell. Too light, too cocky. When the voice the footsteps belonged to drifted down, it was dry and unmistakably familiar.

"Well, ain't this just pitiful."

John closed his eyes for a beat, his head hanging low, before something akin to a mix of a scoff and a laugh escaped. He was having a hard time believing the sound and sight before him. Opening his eyes, he pulled his gaze to meet the familiar pair of eyes staring back at him.

“No. Nope. Of all people...” he groaned. “You?”

*Boots clicked against the old stairs as you descended into view from the shadow of the stairs, arms crossed, brow arched and looking quite amused at the sight before you. John Walker, infamously cocky, found himself defenseless and defeated. It was a rarity.

“I was expecting something more exciting, maybe a secret vault, maybe some intel, but…" Your voice trailed, the unmistakable hint of honey glazed teasing filling it "I find Dime Store Captain America stuck in a basement like a damsel in distress."

Another scoff left John's mouth before he looked at you flatly. "I'm not in distress."

"Mm hm, sure. You look real in control down here, Johnny, sweating like a hooker in church." *You smirked, walking closer before setting a hand on his thigh and leaning in closer. Your chest grazed his, lightly, but you could almost feel him swallow as you reached an arm around to undo his restraints.* "You get distracted? Let a pretty face buy you dinner, or did you just get stupid?"

His jaw tensed, the chair creaking slightly as he shifted under your touch. There was an uncomfortable shift, his pants felt tighter. "Drugged my coffee. I didn't even drink it, took one damned sip, and it was lights out."

“Rookie mistake, Walker.” You chuckled, fingers brushing over the rope before pausing. Your eyes locked on his. “You’re lucky I like you.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “This how you treat people you like?”

You smiled. It was mocking, but there was a hint of sweetness to it. “Oh, honey... you haven’t seen anything yet.”

"Untie me," he said quickly, trying to ignore the pressure tightening beneath his belt. "Maybe I'll show you a thing or two."

Your head tilted to the side, eyes scanning his flushed face. The way his chest rose with each breath was quick, uneven and needy. Your fingers lingered on the knot, while your other hand...trailed up his thigh and brushed over his tightness. You felt his entire body tense beneath your touch when you reached that spot. It was invigorating.

“Mm,” you hummed, lips quirking as you palmed his groin. “You sure you’re in any condition to be showing off? You’re sweating through your Stars and Stripes, Cap'n.” He let out a sharp breath, biting back the urge to buck his hips into your hand. “You keep talkin’ like that, and I won’t need the ropes to stay tied to this damn chair.”

The way he said it. Low and biting, it made something in your abdomen flicker. Dangerous, cocky, very much John Walker in nature. Your hand moved from his groin to his belt. He tried to hide the way his jaw clenched, shifting in the seat, but you had caught it. You always did.

"Guess I'll have to test your limits then," *you murmured, leaning in more so that your breath brushed against his ear.* "You break before the ropes do, I'm tellin’ everyone."

You lowered yourself slowly, the concrete was cold beneath your knees. The heat coming off him was enough to drown the feeling out. He watched every move like a man starved of touch. His pants were tented, twitching against the zipper, just begging to be free. You could practically see the outline of his erection through the damp fabric. Your fingers moved from his belt to slide down his thighs as you kissed along the inner portion, through the fabric slow and deliberate. You wanted to mess with him, make him beg, and learn who was really in charge here.

A hiss escaped from between his lips, mouth agape with a quiet moan. His hips jerked slightly as he clenched his still-bound fists, as if he wanted to get his throbbing, erect cock inside your mouth as fast as possible. It sent a smirk across your lips, the knot in your abdomen throbbing a little at his reaction. The little movements that just screamed that he needed you.

Your fingers worked at his belt, agonizingly slow, then his fly. You dragged the zipper down and reached in, pulling him free from his agony. He was hot, hard, and already leaking precum from the red, angry tip of his cock. You licked your lips as one hand wrapped around his shaft, brushing your thumb over the head and spreading the precum around. Seconds later, you leaned in and licked a slow stripe up his shaft, kissing the tip, spreading the proof of his arousal across your perfect pink lips.

"Fuck—" he growled, jerking his hips up desperately to try and feel the wetness of your mouth. "Please—"

He didn’t have to finish his plea before your mouth closed around his hard length, sinking down inch by inch. Warm. Wet. Perfect pressure. Your cheeks hollowed, feeling his thighs tense beneath your hands, his thighs tense beneath your hands, ragged breaths filling your ears, a choked groan filling the air. Your hands pumped him as you bobbed your head down, making sure to take long, slow strides up and down.

His cock twitched against your tongue, hips giving yet another needy jerk, helpless under your mouth. Every ragged breath from his parted lips was intoxicating, pushing you further, encouragement in the form of desperation. He fought to stay still, resisting the urge to buck up into your throat, struggling to hide just how much this affected him. But the way you worked him was unraveling that restraint by the second.

Your fingers dug deeper into his thighs, a firm reminder of who was really in control. For a brief moment, you relished the feeling of his muscles quivering under your touch. Your eyes flicked up, gazing through long lashes, just in time to catch the way his head tipped back. His jaw clenched so tightly it trembled, fighting to stifle the desperate groan that was threatening to escape.

God, it was just adorable.

You pulled off his cock with a wet pop, the soft sound echoing in the quiet space between you. The only thing connecting your lips and his aching tip was a strand of saliva. For a split second, you paused, your eyes locked on his trembling body, savoring the tension you’d created. Your mouth curled into a smirk, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. With a low, teasing voice laced with mock sympathy, you reveled in the control you held over him.

"Already?" you purred, your thumb gliding along the slickened underside of his shaft before you gripped it again, pumping up and down, torturously slow. "C'mon, Cap'n, don't tell me you're that close already."

He finally let out a strained groan, like it hurt to hold in. "I- fuck, I *can't*-"

You leaned in, your breath hot against his throbbing cock as you kissed back up it, your hand continuing its slow, steady rhythm. "Then don't," you murmured, brushing your lips over his tip. "Not til I tell you."

Your mouth slid slowly back up his length before sinking down again, taking him with a sinful ease. Your eyes, still viewed behind soft, long lashes, flicked up to meet his in the same silent, seductive way. You took him deeper this time. So much so that the thick head of his cock nudged the back of your throat with every downward movement. Each motion was a tease, a promise. One hand kept stroking what couldn't fit behind those pretty lips, while the other drifted lower, yanking his pants and boxers further down to free the rest of him. You cupped his balls, warm and just right in your palm, and began to massage them with practiced care. Just enough pressure to make him twitch again. Your cheeks hollowed with each bob, tongue curling around his tip every time your head pulled back and almost off him. You swallowed him like you knew exactly how close he was. The smell of him filled your nostrils. Sweat, teak wood and something primal, almost masculine. Almost as if his arousal was seeping off him in droves and further intoxicating you.

You could feel it in the way his thighs tensed beneath your fingertips. The subtle hitch in his breath that gave way every time you took him just a little deeper. He was teetering on the edge, just moments from unraveling with each glide of your mouth and stroke of your hand. His fists clenched behind his back, white knuckled under his gloves, as if that could hold him. A loud groan escaped from his lips again as you swirl your tongue around his head, catching his sensitive spot just under the ridge. His hips gave shallow, involuntary jerks that highlighted his desperation. Good.

"Fuck," he choked out, his voice tight.

You pulled back, letting your hot breath fan against his flushed, aroused tip. Your hand didn't stop, nor did it slow. If anything, you have him one deliberately slow pump that made his entire body jerk.

"Aw, poor thing…" *you cooed, voice yet again mocking soft. You teasingly brushed your lips across his slick head.* "You're right there, aren't you? So close?"

His answer was a ragged, desperate groan with his head thrown back. You could see hos brow furrowed in agony and need.

Your response was to lick a long, slow stripe up the underside of his cock just to watch him twitch again. "Don't you dare," you whispered, eyes locked on him.* "Not until I say so, Cap'n."

But God, he was close. So close you could taste it.

You took him back into your mouth without warning. Those pretty lips wrapped around his flushed tip, sliding down again until your nose brushed his skin. You knew he wouldn’t last much longer. And he’d been such a good boy, hadn’t he? He deserved a nice, long treat to finish off with.

Your head began to bob again, cheeks hollowing with each slow, deliberate pull. This time, your hands stayed firmly planted on his thighs, grounding him as you gradually picked up the pace, forcing his cock deeper into your throat with each pass. Your eyes fluttered shut, and a soft, muffled moan escaped you as your thighs rubbed together. You hadn’t even noticed how badly you were aching, how hot the need in your core had grown while you focused on him.

His moans spilled out freely now. Breathless, broken, beautiful. His entire body trembled. His muscles were drawn tight, like a bowstring ready to snap. "I—I’m gonna—fuck—" he panted, head thrown back as a loud, guttural groan ripped from his throat. His hips rolled forward, overwhelmed by pleasure, desperate to stay buried in your mouth as he came.

You didn’t stop. You pressed yourself down farther, letting him twitch and spill down your throat as you swallowed him greedily, refusing to waste a drop. When you finally pulled back, lips slick and chest rising with slow, satisfied breaths, you looked up at him through your lashes and smiled.

“Mmm,” you purred. “Good boy.”