"Azrael the Eternal, Azrael the Undying, Azrael Who Is Death--bringing with him the black rains, the fires, the souring of the sky, and the Eaters. Now he rules in the walled city of Haven with his favored Children and his dead court, while all that is left of the living struggles to survive in the ruins of a world that used to be their own. But even as extinction looms, humanity will never surrender to their monstrous conqueror." - R. Lee Smith
Fanart of Azrael from R.Lee Smith's Land of the Beautiful Dead. I loved this book, though not for the faint of heart. Lots of explicit and heavy material, be sure to check all tw/cw.
So eventually I am going to look into bsky, for now I'm just stashing stuff here until ready to make an acct.
summary: Lonely, widowed, Joel seeks company where he knows he shouldn't.
series status: complete
general series warnings, please see each chapter's individual warnings for a complete list: age gap (20s/50s), smut (in most, probably all, chapters), reader is a sex worker, misogyny, smoking (reader and joel), internalized shame, poverty and issues and dangers that come along with that
a/n: this fic is my baby, and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I've never preplanned a series and had the parts completed or mostly completed before publishing it before. maybe I was being a little selfish in keeping them to myself. updates every tuesday <3
chapters below the cut:
cherry ; Lonely, widowed, Joel seeks company where he knows he shouldn't.
late nights ; You never expect Joel to come back, let alone to search for you.
offers ; Joel comes back to you like clockwork. He has a proposition for you.
resolve ; Joel gives you a credit card. You're hesitant to use it.
interlude ; Joel grapples with guilt and shame. But there's no quitting you.
even just that ; Joel calls you; you call Joel.
more than, twice as ; Joel is different than all the other men you've slept with. . .Right?
warmth like... ; A promise is fulfilled. Joel takes you horseback riding.
best laid plans ; You attempt quitting with variable results.
only in quotes ; Things can't keep going on as they have, can they?
in effect ; Going it alone isn't easy.
of my own name ; Joel doesn't cope well without you.
belief ; Joel makes sure you get home safely.
the b-side ; There might be a future for you, if you and Joel are brave enough to grab it.
extras:
cherry playlist
how cherry evolved as i wrote her
cherry and joel edit by @yougavemeeverythingandnothing
dudeeeeee corey definitely eats u out like a MADDDDDD MAN twirling my hair and kicking my feet over him
(sighs dreamily) i know right :’)
he’s a virgin when you meet him. you agree to be his first, and corey seems so nervous you ask him if he’s sure he wants this at least four different times. then, when you’re making out to ease his nerves a little, you grind down a little too hard and he cums in his pants like a teenage boy.
he’s HUMILIATED, refusing to even open his eyes back up until you coax him into it, eyes shining with embarassed tears.
“i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry, i couldn’t help it-“ he babbles, you shushing him gently, stroking his face with your thumbs as you cup it in your hands.
“corey, it’s okay. let’s get you cleaned up-“
“no!” corey insists, “no, want you to feel good, too.”
“what about your-“
“i wanna eat you out.” corey blurts out, sounding almost desperate.
you just blink, surprised, eyebrows raising as he keeps sputtering.
“i just-i’ve been watching videos, trying to learn how-“ he explains, “i keep thinking about doing it to you. tasting you.”
that does it for you, a pang of arousal hitting you at your sweet boyfriend stuttering through his fantasies. about how he not only wants to eat you out, but has been thinking about it regularly.
“yeah.” you breathe, nodding. “yeah, cmere.” you climb off of him, laying flat on your back next to him. rather than climbing on top of you like you expected, corey climbs off the bed entirely. before you can ask where he’s going, you feel his hands on your calves, tugging you forward with an eagerness that makes you dizzy. you lean back onto your elbows, finding corey looking up at you from between your legs, hands on either one of your thighs.
“wanna do it on my knees,” corey explains, “if that’s okay.”
you nod rapidly, “more than okay.”
corey smiles timidly, suddenly growing shy. he smooths his hands up your thighs, stopping at the waistband of your shorts. “can i-?”
“please.” you’re barely able to get out, sounding more pathetic than you meant to.
corey gulps at that, noting to do whatever he needs to make you make that sound again as he tugs your panties and shorts off in one go, disposing of them on the floor.
feeling bare, you instinctively try to shut your legs, corey moving his hands back down to your thighs, pressing down to keep them open.
“wanna see you.” corey pleads, dropping his gaze down to your cunt.
before you can even think of telling him what to do, he drags a finger up through your folds, you gasping at the sensation.
“you’re so wet already.” corey marvels, “is this-“
“all for you.” you tell him. “i told y-oh!”
corey mimics his previous action, this time with his tongue, flicking it lightly when he reaches your clit.
“baby.” you whine, breath hitching as he pulls back, using his fingers to spread you open. this time, he presses his tongue flat against you, your thighs clasping around his head. he peers up at you with his puppy dog eyes, the sight so sultry it makes you shudder on his mouth. the sounds you’re making don’t even sound like they’re coming out of you as corey gets bolder, nose knocking against your clit as he works you over with his tongue. it’s nothing like him-he’s so sweet, and mostly quiet, yet here he is, eating you out with a fervor unexpected in people with far more experience than him.
“corey, oh my god-“ you groan, hands flying to his hair instinctively when he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking harshly. you tug on his hair like it’s the only thing holding you inside your body. corey groans against you, the vibrations making you shiver as you do it again, desperate for that feeling again. the louder you get, the messier he does, and you feel his jaw moving against you as he keeps going. you’re so caught up in corey’s lips, his tongue, his mouth, him, that you don’t even feel yourself getting close, teetering on the brink—you fly off so suddenly you nearly scream out loud, your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. corey groans into you again as your thighs lock around his head, arching yourself into his face as you start to come down. you thought he was just working you through it until you jerk at his continuing movements, completely oblivious to the fact that you’d just cum all over his face.
you have to reach down and pull him off by his hair, him detaching his mouth from you with a pornographic wet sound as you do.
“how did you-you’ve never done that before?” you pant, bewildered, corey wiping his hand across his mouth as he shakes his head.
“maybe i took some notes.” corey admits sheepishly, beaming at you. “did i make up for—?”
you shake your head incredulously, sitting back up with what little strength you have, corey sitting up and placing his hands on your back to steady you.
You want a baby. Simon can't get over his hangups to give you one. The solution to both problems? Johnny.
18+ SMUT. breeding. mildly dubious consent. Johnny feasts on your pussy and then does his best to knock you up while Simon watches. slight body worship. bastardization of religious imagery. Mean!Dom Simon. rough, messy sex.
He's not the type to saw off his own hand to feed you, but would rather find a third man to satiate you both. The only one who can care for you, he said. Can't do that when he's dead, can he?
Maybe that's why he calls for Johnny.
down boy. eager mutt. lil' pyedogs got himself all twisted up in a rutt. help him, won't you, pet?
Johnny's softer than Simon but only just. This margin of distance, however, could be the gaping maw of a canyon for how wide it really is when scaled down to fit. Boxed inside a narrow bed—on your belly, cheek on Simon's knee; ass up, legs spread. Johnny behind you—colluvium to Simon's mountainside, but still so broad, so thick, your hips twinge with the effort of keeping your knees so wide apart.
You feel it whistling through the chasm when he licks his lips behind you—a loud, lascivious smack, a wet suckle—and feel the burn of his stare riveted on the split of your flesh. This bare seam Simon swears he found nirvana tucked deep inside of. A buried ravine. Aquifer he quenches himself on.
A pilgrimage Johnny has been aching to take.
And that's what this is, isn't it? Yatra to the hidden piscina. A procession to pollute the tarn—something Simon can't bring himself to do.
Bad genes. Trauma—sticky, noxious tar that oozes from the rotting filaments; festering deep inside. Cancerous: a mass you long to cleave from bone but know it's not cosmetic. Not just the ball joints, or the studs, but the foundation itself. If you start tearing up pieces now you'll have nothing but an empty plot and a pile of damaged debris.
So:
Enter the third man.
A tool. Vassel. Pays fealty by fucking a baby into your womb.
It's what you wanted, isn't it?
(yes, but—)
It happens faster than you can keep up with. Hands on your hips. Coarse hair tickling the back of your thigh. Warm breath against sticky, wet flesh. A broad nose parting your folds. Inhale. Exhale on a deep, reedy groan.
"fuck, ye smell heavenly, doe."
Simon hums before you can peel your tongue from the roof of your mouth, answering for you with a brassy invitation: tastes even better, Johnny.
It's all the permission he needs before he pushes his head closer to your bare cunt, groaning as his tongue cleaves a silky, thick line between your folds. Gorging himself without much preamble. Hands curled around your hips like expensive silverware, pulling you back into the wanting, eager suck of his mouth.
All at once, it's too much. Your hips shift, squirming away from his tongue, the too-sharp press of his teeth against soft, sensitive flesh. Mewling, whimpering into the rain-wet fabric of Simon's jeans.
His hand falls on your head. A gentle tap. Behave, it says, but you can't.
Johnny tramples over that thin line between pleasure and ecstasy, blurring them both until it becomes pain. Overwhelming. Shoving you towards the edge before you've readied yourself for the fall.
"Can't, Simon, can't—"
The words elide, slurring into a high-pitched whine as Johnny feasts on your cunt. Devours you from the inside out—all teeth and tongue, sucking your clit until your thighs cramp from how tight your muscles tense, bleeding lactic acid over sore flesh. The scrape of his stubble over your folds, chafing them until they are raw. Swollen. Drenched hole fucked with the spear of his tongue, digging so deep you begin to fear that he's trying to crawl inside of you. Salt your womb with his own two hands—
"Can take it, birdie," is all Simon says before his hand slides down your arched, trembling spine. Fingers digging into the meat of your cheek, spreading you wider for Johnny to eat. "Look how eager he is. Can't get enough of that sweet cunt."
"It's—it's too much—"
You don't feel him move. Can't see much from the blurry tears in your eyes. But his other hand whips out, cracking over your untouched cheek in a firm, burning smack. One that makes Johnny moan when it lands. Cruel. Open palm. Hard enough to leave a welt in the shape of his hand—something that makes him groan when he sees it.
"fuckin' hell—" his fingers dig into the aching flesh, grip bruising.
Johnny peels his wet, open mouth away long enough to pant into the slick spread of your cunt, resting his cheek on the swell of your ass. "Bit rough wit' 'er, Lt."
Simon considers it. Body shaking the bed when he shrugs, leaning back to trail his hand back up your spine, curling over the arch of your nape. Keeping you still as you sob into his knee. "She likes it."
"know she does. Fuck, Lt. Can feel 'er little pussy twitching. Tryin' tae suck me in."
Another hum. The grip on your asscheek eases as his hand peels away, sliding over swell before notching a finger between your cleft. Dry. Rough. It drags down your seam until it brushes over your fluttering hole, calloused tip digging in.
"soft, too, ain't it?" He asks, words mockingly cruel in their conversational tone. Nonchalant. But Johnny's hands tighten on your waist, palms slick with sweat. Glueing to your flesh. You can tell he likes that. Likes the way Simon talks about you. Demeaning and brutish. Butcher selling a piece of meat. "Bit of a tight fit at first—" he curls his finger inside of you, stretching your sore walls with the width of his knuckle. Sinking in deep. Another follows before you can remember how to breathe around the sting. "But swallows you up like a goddamn dream, Johnny."
His breaths grow ragged. "Fuck, Lt. Look at th'."
It makes you clench up around Simon's fingers, embarrassment scorching through your chest. "Please—"
Neither of them acknowledge you. Simon's fingers split, spreading wide apart as Johnny shuffles forward for a closer look, and nearly choking on his next inhale when he does.
"such a pretty fuckin' pussy—" he says it like a curse. Spitting the words out on a snarl. Angry, now, for reasons you can't discern slobbering over Simon's leg. "God, Lt. ah cannae—"
Johnny shifts back. You hear the clink of a belt. The rip of a zipper. Choked groans barely swallowed down as Simon buries his fingers inside of your weeping cunt over and over again, blunt tips cruelly skating over a spot inside, just behind your navel, that makes you feel liquid and loose between your hips. Debris floating down a whiteriver.
Pleasure peaks with each brutal thrust until you're howling into his leg, unable to move with their hands on your body, holding you down. Making you take it. Making you come undone as Johnny watches.
"fuck, fuck, Lt—she's gonna cum, ain't she?"
"Wanna feel it, Johnny?"
Simon's name falls out of his mouth on a whispered prayer. Drenched in thick reverence. Arched in need.
"aye, sir—" there's something about the hush of his voice, the way it slurs into putty. Enshrining his need in a halo of gold. It sends shivers down your spine. Heats you up fast like a fever. Sends you screaming over the edge—
"gonna miss it, Johnny. She's squeezin' me so fuckin' tight—"
Whatever else they say is swallowed by the keen clawing at the hollow of your throat when you feel the blunt, fat press of his cock knocking against your swollen, stuffed rim.
It's a burning thing—a sharp, heavy ache. Knock, knock. Simon spreads his fingers again, forcing you open. Pulling your hole wide apart for Johnny's engorged head to push up against.
It feels like being split down the middle. Ripped apart. Simon's fingers flex around your nape, thumb brushing soothingly against the knob of your spine.
Can take it, he mutters, brassy and low. A rumble just for you. Gotta take it, birdie.
You forget why. Why you need Johnny's too big, too fat cock inside of your cunt until the head bullies through, scissoring Simon's fingers apart until they're pressed tight on either side of the flared glands. Squeezed between your taut rim and Johnny's cock.
Johnny makes a noise like you've gutted him. A gutwrenching sob. "Oh, shite, Lt. M'—m'nae gonnae last—"
"gonna cum inside 'er, Johnny? Knock my pretty birdie up?"
Right. Right. A baby.
There's a heavy push. Your flesh wrenched apart to fit the fat, throbbing length of his cock—
(the cock that's gonna knock you up—)
Simon's fingers slip out of you as Johnny bucks forward, burying himself deep inside with a long, throaty groan. It's a horrible sensation—a bellyache. Without the splint of Simon's fingers forcing you open wide to near numbness, you're forced to feel the thick girth of his cock. Rim fluttering, spasming over the flared base. Too much, and somehow, not enough.
You sob through it. Each one ripples through your chest until it feels like it will collapse. Every inch of your body burns, throbbing. You don't think you'll survive this ache—
Johnny sets a brutal pace. Likes pistoning into you in quick succession until you're nearly howling into Simon's thigh before slowing to a crawl. Force-feeding you every inch. Making you feel every single one. Long strokes that batter the plug of your womb, bullying against the aching seal of your cervix until the flashes of pain, the savagery of this pleasure, makes you feel sick.
Getting fucked by Johnny like this is both a punishment and a reward. Baptism in hellfire.
Be careful what you wish for—
"gonnae fuck ye 'til it takes, doe. Knock ye up. Want th', don't ye? Aye. Can feel it. Feel this little cunt beggin' fer ma cum. Dinnae worry. Ahm gonnae give it tae ye. A' o' it, doe. Every—fuckin'—drop—"
Each awful word lands like acid on your spine. Chewing through flesh, tissue, until it melts bone below. Liquified. Helpless.
And with Johnny's hands on your hips, anchoring you in place as he hammers into your sore, abused pussy, possessed with the need to carve a space inside of your flesh where only he fits, rots, and Simon's hand on the scruff of your neck, holding you down, there's nowhere to run. Nowhere to escape the ragged breaths that spill from Johnny's slick mouth, the desperate way he pumps into you—thrusts growing sloppy as he stretches towards the precipice they dangle you off of, kicking and screaming as the scent of iron fills your nose, as his flared cockhead scrapes over that place you thought only Simon would ever know. Bluntly battering into the altar that sits, nestled behind your navel, like he's allowed.
Holy offering in a handful of seeds he'll sow over fecund land until something grows.
"Look at you take it," Simon coos, sticky, damp fingers petting over your tear-stained cheeks. It smells of loam. Salt. Iron and ozone. "So pretty when you're gettin' bred, ain't you, birdie?"
It rips a mournful keen from your chest, a feverish moan following on its heels when the lewd squelch, the echoing slapslapslap of Johnny driving into your cunt fills your ears. So wet, so messy, you can feel the slick drying, tacky and thick, on the inner crease of your bent knee.
"He's gonna put our baby in you, ain't he, birdie? Like a good mutt—"
The hands holding you over the precipice let go. Johnny's answering moan spears into your head, fluttering around the pulsing heartbeat of liquid bliss frothing in the pit of your belly. Overflowing over the rim.
Too much, you think, but that's not quite right because you can't feel anything at all except the length of his thick cock lodged deep inside you. Throbbing in tandem with your second pulse.
"gonnae cum, Lt. Gonnae—oh, fuck, Lt—"
His voice is a warm river washing over your spine. Pooling ecstacy. Something heavenly. Divine—
Molten gold blooms in the pit of your belly. Cockhead spitting against the seal of your womb as he cums, filling you to the brim. Fucking it into you even as his cock softens, unable to pull out he says.
Feels like fuckin' heaven, Lt.
"ain't she just?" Simon volleys back, sounding oddly dissonant. Off-key. "Pretty little birdie got what she wanted, huh?"
The drawl of his tone—acid-scorched, electric—forces you to blink through the tears, lifting your aching, wet eyes upwards at him. Searching.
He has the eyes of a predator. Leonine. The gaze of a beast after it's devoured something whole. His touch is as gentle as he can be—a rough, cracked scratch over your blistered cheeks—and when he meets your divining stare, he coos.
"Maybe I'll 'ave a go next time."
In the pounding, soporific slurry of your mind, you can't wrap your head around the words. Can't make sense of them. Struggling to keep your burning eyes open, even.
Not that it matters.
Johnny huffs a scorching breath of laughter over your sweat-slicked spine before wedging his forearm under your belly. Keeping your hips tipped up as he falls into you, resting his broad chest against your back and smothering you into the damp mattress.
"Yer cruel, Lt," he rasps, chin nuzzling over the arch of your shoulder, cock giving a feeble twitch inside of you at something you can't seem to piece together.
"m'jus' givin' my pretty bird exactly what she asked for." Huh? He prods, fingers tapping over your cheek when your swollen eyes slide shut. "Forgettin' y'manners, ain't you? Say thank you, pet."
With Johnny's half-formed chuckle echoing in your head, you mumble the words out on an exhausted sigh.
"an' say thank you to this mutt f'knockin' you up."
It comes out slower this time. Sluggish. His cock gives another twitch as he buries his face between your shoulder blades, smothering a groan.
"Sweetest thing, Lt. Christ—"
"more where that came from, Johnny. Jus' you wait an' see." Another tap. You mewl in response, feeling war-torn and achy. Unable to open your eyes for a second time, all you can do is whimper, burying yourself into his thigh. Pleading, silently, for clemency. Later, you think. Later—
But Simon has other plans.
"Fallin' asleep on me, birdie? Ain't even gonna give me a chance to put my baby in you? Greedy little thing, ain't she?"
Buried under the weight of Johnny as he peppers sucking, open mouth kisses over the width of your shoulder, cum leaking out around the softening plug of his cock, all you can do is snuff out the sob on the arch of his knee, resisting the urge to bite instead.
"Maybe next time then, eh, birdie?" Since you've been so good for this mutt, huh? Maybe I'll give you a reward.
I feel like soap is super into spit. Like spitting on you or in your mouth is a little too degrading but. When he’s fucking you, if you’re face to face, it’s the sloppiest kisses. Drool running down your chin and when he pulls away there’s that little string of spit connecting you two. And If he’s fucking your from the back he’s got two fingers in your mouth, spit running down his wrist and he just can’t get enough of it
i agree with all of this, op 🖤 i headcanon him as the WETTEST kisser. this man wants to see you dazed and wrecked just from a kiss alone. full on tongue. bites your lips. hooks his finger into your mouth to open it wider for him. very big on making you as messy as he can. likes to see you dripping with him. purposefully will dip his finger in his food and hold it out to you. 'want a taste, bonnie?' and the next thing you know, you have three fingers in your mouth. (you just wanted to try is pudding, damn).
likes to rub his stubble over your cheeks just to see the slight beard burn after he's finished. and he's never done until you can't feel your lips anymore. until they're stinging and swollen and bruised.
wants you crying and drooling into the pillow when he gets into those dommy moods. this man wants to kiss (and fuck) you stupid.
oh my fucking god this is making me feral. im normal for him i swear
but you’re so right. he’s such a sucker for that flushed, lip bitten look. he likes em glassy-eyed and completely wrecked, messy yet still so desperate for more. and when you pull him down for just that, you bet he’ll grab onto your face with those large hands and suck your tongue until you’re writhing for breath. he just gets so fucking turned on at your pretty gasps, he can’t help himself.
i personally believe he’d be the type to wring you dry. even when you’re exhausted, on the verge of passing out, johnny would put his full weight and drive into you harder, faster. he’s insatiable like that
with every passing day, being middle eastern is realizing more and more just how many people do not view you as a person whose right to life and happiness should also be protected.
im so glad to see the support for palestine in these past few weeks like never before, but i hope it isnt the case again of a short period of loud noise from the world then silence just because they get tired. ive seen that all too many times as an iranian american, and its frustrating since we cannot so easily move on from these atrocities the way others can; we are trapped.
i truly hope the world continues to put on more and more pressure until palestine is free. do not grow tired; do not grow silent. everyone should know and remember exactly what palestinians have endured and are continuing to endure for almost a century. everyone should know and remember well what has not been stopped by the inhumans who walk among us. it is the bare minimum.
as it approaches a month of nonstop bombardment, i want to reiterate that it is imperative we all keep talking about the ongoing genocide and continue to take the steps we can to not let this atrocity fade away from the public’s attention on top of boycotts and protests. as soon as the spotlight is off, tragedy will strike even harder; the oppressors are hoping we all get tired and lose steam, but you absolutely cannot stop.
the people in palestine have not lost hope, nor have the palestinians around the world who have already been driven from their homes and their land but still dream of the day they return. this is not a lost cause, which means you should not treat it as such by stopping the protests, boycotts, or conversation.
amplifying voices and keeping those voices alive is very important. many of these videos coming out of palestine are in english because they want the world to hear them. so listen, and help the people around you hear their voices too.
it breaks my heart that global support for the woman, life, freedom protests died off. once the world’s spotlight was gone, once the internet was cut and it was all “out of sight, out of mind”, the regime only amplified the horrors they afflicted onto the iranian people, until they were either dead or forced back into bearing things quietly. it is a common repeated cycle.
i do not want the same to happen in palestine. do not stop talking. do not fall for propaganda.
I understand that it has become normal to hear about and witness the violence going on in the middle east, and that the imagery coming from it might be horribly unsettling, but it is important not to normalise it. By getting used to what’s happening in Iran, in Syria, in Congo, in Sudan, in Palestine (and in several other places), you are enabling the very dehumanisation of MENA people that is allowing world leaders to remain quiet in situations that demand outrage. Keep talking. Keep protesting. Keep advocating.
synopsis. anakin finds loopholes in the jedi code.
warnings. 18+. this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy my shit, i’ll find out. cock warming, p in v penetration but no movement. whimper-y anakin, if you move i'll leave the jedi order type beat.
an. just a little something i wrote for the kinktober i never did. I thought i'd post instead of letting it collect dust in my drafts. the prompt was cockwarming! hope i did anakin justice<3 pls comment & reblog.
You find him at the window.
Sitting, with his thighs open and chest bare, staring out into the abyss. The night glints at the beads of sweat sliding down his chest, and his fingers drum endlessly against his thighs.
He heard you wake up, so he’s expecting your company, and has leaned back against the chair – thin black gown falling open – ready for you to climb all over him.
It happens often.
It’s not uncommon to wake up without him.
Most nights, you startle out of your slumber – as if even asleep, you’d sensed a shift – and blink at the space on the mattress beside you.
Finding him was easy.
You pad through the living room and wordlessly reach him in his post-nightmare state. His hair is tousled, sculpted chest is slick with sweat -- there’s an energy vibrating off of him, and you can taste it in the air.
Stepping behind him, you gently run the tips of your fingers over his shoulders, and the whirlpool in Anakin’s belly settles for a second.
When you move into frame, it’s gone completely, replaced by a warm heat that has roots. He breathes a smile.
“Like clockwork.”
You give him a sheepish grin in return and fiddle with the fabric of your small nightgown. There’s a moment where Anakin gets to look at you – all sleepy and cuddly – and he’s ready to escape with you off of this forsaken planet.
His will holds strong.
“Are you waiting for an invitation?” he asks, raising a scarred brow, and despite your groggy state, you still manage to roll your eyes. Stepping closer, you use his broad shoulders as anchors to slip onto his lap.
“Don’t make that face,” Anakin hushes, and while you settle back onto his thighs, his metal hand comes up. He traces the line of your jaw, “You know I let you do what you want.”
His spare hand steadies your hips, and it’s still warm from his lightsaber. Calloused fingers run over your skin, reminding you of the fight that’s leaving scars – the war that’s brewing, both inside and outside of his mind.
In moments like this, though, there’s a subtle calm.
An impenetrable force that hums over the pair of you.
You lean into his palm and whisper, “Not everything.”
There’s a haunted edge to your gaze, and your words are loaded. Anakin knows what you mean, knows all the intricacies of your subtle dig, and yet, he still manages to smile.
Well, smirk.
“What do you want? Just say the word.”
You wouldn’t, and Anakin knows that. He’s caught your bluff, and you manage a bashful smile before gently leaning forward, dragging your hips against his lap.
Anakin’s cloth-covered thigh nestles against the thin fabric of your underwear. Your smile falters, lips parting. You push your forehead against his, and whisper, “If I say the words, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“I know,” he breathes, “I know.”
I want more.
A life together, not stolen moments when the sun is down.
An attachment. A bond.
But it’s forbidden.
It’s why it can’t go any further than this.
“What’d you dream about?” you wonder. Anakin pulls his eyes away from you, instead looking to where his thigh sits. The silence is your answer.
“I’ll still ask, even if you never tell.”
He takes hold of your bare thighs, rubbing his hands up and down, and you hum his name, reaching out to push his hair behind his ears.
“Pretty boy.”
“Stop it,” he huffs, cheeks reddening.
But how can you? When he’s all sharp lines and long hair. You run your hands up the bare panes of his muscular chest, feeling the deft of his muscles, and the dampness on his skin.
The air changes – hums electric – and it buzzes as you push his gown off his shoulders.
Carefully, you lean forward and place a chaste kiss against his collarbone.
“That’s better.”
Anakin hums a laugh. His hands snake around to your lower back, dig into the fat of your ass, and using the grip there, he gently rocks you forward once, forcing your clothed cunt to drag against his muscular thigh.
You whimper. It’s quiet, but Anakin can hear it, even if it’s muffled by his shoulder.
“’ S’what you came out here for, huh?” he whispers. The electric flooding through the walls hums, but the room is still eerily silent. Anakin’s voice is a roar.
You lick your lips and drag your face up to see him.
“No,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss against his top lip, “I like being with you, even if we don’t do this.”
Anakin has to close his eyes. Words like those are fuel to the fire brimming in his chest, and it doesn’t help that you wrap your arms around his neck and fiddle with the tail end of his hair.
Arching your back, you slowly roll backwards, then forward, teasing the bulge between his legs.
Releasing a shaky breath, you repeat the motion, again, and again, near humping his leg.
A familiar ache begins to swell, coiling between your thighs and up into your belly. It makes you clench around nothing, and you mewl quietly, wishing for more – always wishing for more.
Still, you continue, slick pooling into your underwear and against his thigh.
Anakin can’t look at you. If he sees your face, his resolve will falter.
His nerves are shot. If he couldn’t feel how wet you are, he could smell it, and it makes a groan bristle behind his teeth.
He buries his head into the crook of your neck and busies himself with kissing at the soft shell of your throat, careful not to leave marks.
Once, you left a mouth-shaped mark against his stomach, and he looked at it every day for a week.
Caught himself with his top up in the mirror looking at the reflection, eyeing the way the mark sat on the firm lines of muscle, fading away with time.
A dark part of him wanted the mark on the slope of his neck.
“Wanna be inside of you.”
His admission rests heavily against your throat, and you’re thankful that he can’t see the way you clench your eyes closed.
Though, he does feel you tighten your grip on the back of his head. Feels you shift up against his thigh, and the warmth pooling in your underwear burns against him.
He can sense you’re hesitant.
“’ can be like last time. Just – Just --” he stutters, licking his lips and struggling to release the words from the back of his throat. Finally, he manages.
“--Sit on it.”
“Anakin.”
He pulls away from your neck and looks up at you.
“We can use it as an exercise.”
A laugh bursts from your throat, “To test your will?”
He smiles, and because you have to, you push your cunt against his crotch, uttering, “Want me to make It difficult for you?” and white flashes through Anakin’s eyes.
He grabs your hips to steady you, tensely pushing his fingers into your skin.
“Hardest challenge I’ll ever encounter.”
“You eager to impress?”
He kisses your jaw, “Don’t I always?”
“Mm,” you hum, cradling his chin. You shift back so he can pull his trousers down, and when you take his cock in your hand, he melts. His commanding aura switches for a moment, and you watch Anakin still his breathing.
You push your underwear to the side, and as you lift yourself to sink onto him, Anakin breathes, “Just the tip – just a little bit, j-just—” and he chokes on his words, gasping as you brush the leaking head of his cock through your folds.
You halt. Whimper. Have to grip his shoulder to steady yourself, or you’ll push him inside of you all at once and hurt yourself.
You inhale steadily.
“Have to – have to go slow,” you spurt, trying to calm your tremors.
“It’s been a while since…”
You don’t have to finish your sentence. Anakin knows, and he feels a mix of pride and guilt. Only me, he thinks, and then, like a flash, only me, he swallows. And I can’t give her everything.
This. This is as far as it’ll go. He knows he’s pushing it. Knows that he’s come up with some convoluted rule to both have his cake and eat it too.
If he fucks you the way he wants to, he’ll fall in love with you. As if it hasn’t happened already.
Anakin has made lying to himself a speciality.
You push against him once more, and the tip of his cock nudges between your folds, forcing an ache to shoot through your clit and make you dizzy. You stop. Pause and curse yourself.
A slow burn builds in your thighs, and you clench down to try and mediate the burn. Anakin grunts.
“Maker,” he utters.
“Sorry—” you splutter, sucking in a tight breath.
Anakin wraps his metal arm around the back of your hips, hoping to steady you. “Lemme,” he mumbles, and gently, he flexes his hips up, slowly feeding his cock into your soaked pussy.
Your lower abdomen immediately burns.
He’s being calm about it – using all his training – but there’s nothing calm about the words trickling out of his mouth.
“Oh stars,” he groans, voice wrecked, “You gonna take all of me, sweet girl? Gonna let me fill you up?”
When you finally sink to the hilt, your resolve snaps. The pair of you moan out in unison, loud and high-pitched.
Anakin buries his face in your chest, and the heat of his mouth against your breasts adds to the tension coiling in your belly.
“Don’t – don’t move,” he grunts, and you shake your head, “I won’t – I’ll come on your cock if I do,” and you don’t mean to say it like that, don’t mean for the words to come out like that, but you feel Anakin pulse from inside of you, warm and hard and wet.
He manages to laugh.
“Tryna kill me,” he shakily breathes, shaking his head. His wet lips brush against your breasts, and you want more – want all that he can give you – so you clutch the back of his head, pulling him closer, hoping he gets the message.
His wet kisses make your skin prickle.
You’re full up. Can feel him stretching you out, this feeling something that’s only happened a few times before.
“If you move,” Anakin begins, out of breath, “I’ll leave the Jedi order and spend my days inside of you.”
“Don’t t-tempt me.”
He laughs, and you accidentally clench around him, causing him to groan deep and long against your tits.
“If you do that again, I’ll come inside of you.”
You imagine it. Imagine him spilling out, the wet white of it dripping out of your cunt and back onto his cock, and the mere image of it has your clit throbbing.
Keep still. Don’t move.
But he wraps his tongue around your nipple and begins to suck.
You cry out, and all of your muscles tighten, forcing you to clench tight around his cock. Anakin jolts and whines your name against your tits.
“S’your fault,” you mewl, moaning. You hang your head back, “Stars, Anakin.”
“Try and stay still,” he mumbles, and you stutter a laugh, “Impossible.”
“It can’t be,” he responds, and while he speaks in jest, his words are sincere. The line between love and lust runs thin, and if Anakin is being honest with himself, it’s close to snapping.
Summary: Eddie and his pretty moans got to you. You call him up.
Warnings/tags: phone sex, dom!reader, dirty talk, use of Y/n
You’re rubbing your puffy little clit back and forth, imagining Eddie. He didn’t know but you’d seen him touching himself in the shower the last time you went over to his place to roll up. The wet slop of his fist against his cock, his moans increasing in pitch, the constant stream of please, please, please—oh, Jesus Christ, Y/n.
The way he thrust into his tight fist, his ass muscles clenching as he stood on the tips of his toes, whimpering as his orgasm took over him.
You hadn’t been able to relieve yourself until now. Then, it was too late for you to rub one out; he was on his way out of the shower.
Now, as you lay in bed, freshly home from running mindless errands, you rubbed and stroked the little nub of pleasure, but nothing seemed to work. You’d get right at the precipice of an orgasm, your pelvic muscles bunching tight, the tingles fizzing down to your toes, but nothing was enough.
Damn Eddie and his pathetic whimpers. You needed those stupid noises to finish. Huffing, you jump up and go to the telephone, dialing the Munsons’ number, hoping Eddie will pick up.
The line trilled on and on for what seemed like forever, numbing your brain as the sound rattle through your ear. Finally, a voice on the other end: “Hello?”
“Eddie,” you call, breathless. Shit, you sounded like “Eddie, are you home alone?”
“Uhhh, yeah? Why?”
“Listen, I know we’re supposed to be friends ‘n all, but I’m tired of pretending like I don’t want to fuck you.”
He made a choking sound on the other end of the line.
“I heard you, you know? When I came over and you were jerking off, calling my name.”
“Oh! Oh, Christ! Y/n, I-I didn’t… I wasn’t-” he blusters. You could hear his blush.
“Oh, yes, you were, baby. Now, make those pretty noises again for me.”
An exasperated: “What?!” Some stuttering. “I can’t just… do that again.”
“Yes, you can. Touch yourself.”
He whimpers brokenly and caves. “Oh, shit.” He gulps. “Right now?”
“Mm-hm. I’m going to do it with you.”
“I…okay. Okay, okay. Shit,” he mutters. You hear the faint rustling of pants being discarded. “Oh!”
“You doing what I told you?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now, tell me: what do you want?”
“Wanna-wanna be your cock toy. Want it so bad, Y/n.”
You moan at that, shoving your free hand back in your underwear, seeking out your clit. A long satisfied groan flows into your ear, topping out at a whimper.
Eddie continues: “I want you to use me ‘til you soak me in your cum.” His breath falters. “Christ, what are we doing, Y/n?”
“Tsk. Don’t get shy on me now, pretty boy. You weren’t second-guessing yourself when you were jerking off to me. Naughty boy.”
“Don’t-don’t say that!” Faintly, you can hear his strokes get faster.
You were getting closer and closer to your orgasm, fingers beginning to cramp at how fast you were rubbing yourself, but you didn’t care.
“If you weren’t naughty, I wouldn’t call you that. Think about it. What if you were a good boy? Hmm? Don’t you wanna be good?”
“Ahhhh, god… fuck! Yes! Yes, yes, I wanna be a good boy.”
“Then cum for me.”
He erupted, crying out your name over and over again, throwing your over the edge.
“Oh, good boy, baby. Good fucking boy!”
As you come down from your high, slumped against the wall, catching your breath, you hear a key being jammed into the front door. “Fuck, I have to go Eddie. My parents are home.”
“Okay. Wait! Will you come over tomorrow? Need to see you.”
The lock clacked. You heard your dad curse at the rusty thing.
“Yeah…yeah, I will. Bye, Eddie.”
He bid his goodbye and you hung up the phone just as your dad opened the door. Thankfully, it was dark and you were able to scamper down the hallway to your room without them seeing you.
If you reblog and comment, I’ll give you a big, fat kiss!
Eddie has a big mouth. That’s what you notice when he begins to kiss away at your stomach, inching closer and closer to your cunt. If he wanted to, he probably could cover your entire pussy with his mouth. God, he could eat you whole.
Already, you were getting too worked up, your heart pounding, your body overheating. His tongue dipped into your naval as he pulled off your underwear.
Your hands shoot to cover your sex. He huffs a laugh, pressing soft kisses on your knuckles. “Shh, shh, baby, lemme make your pussy feel good. Move your hands.”
“I…uh, it’s—ohhh god.”
He sucks at your inner thigh, as close as he can get to your pussy. “Cmon, baby. Move,” he coaxes softly.
Your hands loosen, your fingers relaxing and naturally spreading a bit to make a gap. You didn’t expect Eddie to dart his tongue through the gap and lick at you.
“Ah! Oh my god,” you gasp, nearly jumping up the bed.
Too late. He mouthes your pussy, tongue dragging up the slit of you, and presses his tongue between your pussy lips. His tongue drags against your wet flesh, nudging your pudgy clit. Reading your reaction to him licking at it, he sucks it into his mouth, moaning when you cry out and arch your back.
Not only can you feel but you can see the way he’s sucking at you; the way his cheeks hollow rhythmically as your clit gets pulled beneath his lips.
“Jesus Christ, Eddie! Are you—oh, shit!—insane?”
He pulls away oh so slightly, just to murmur against your flesh. “Does my tongue feel good? Yeah? Grind your pussy in my mouth. Wanna fee it, baby. Wanna feel you be a dirty girl and use my mouth. ”
He guides your hands to his hair, and instinctively you grasp his hair. When you start to roll your hips against his mouth, he never breaks eye contact with you, lolling out his tongue for you to slide your clit on. Eddie’s eyes are blown out, pupils wide. His breath comes out in excited little chuffs against your mons.
“Eds? What are we doing?” You ask, feeling desperately shy and ashamed from the pleasure your taking from him. “Why are you letting me do this to you?”
His eyes droop, almost looking as if he’s about to fall to sleep, completely at peace, when he wriggles his tongue in the wet tight hole of your cunt.
His tongue scrapes the roof of your pussy. “I just want you to feel good, baby,” he moans. “Just wanna lick it until you cry. Don’t you wanna feel good?”
You whine, but scoot closer to him.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he says with a line of saliva connection his mouth to you. “I asked you a question. Answer it.”
“Eddie,” you sob, covering your face. “Noooo,” you whine. “That’s embarrassing.”
“Say. It. Or I’ll stop. Do you want me to stop?”
“No.”
“Then say it.”
You let your teeth drag along your tongue before you say: “Eddie, lick me. Please.”
“See? Wasn’t that hard.”
You don’t get to say anything before he’s sucking like his life depends on it. So many things are happening: him sucking and licking at you, the vibrations of his moans, his hands kneading the flesh of your thighs. It doesn’t take long before you’re climbing the peak.
“Eddie,” you warn. “It’s close,” you choke.
He just grunts and squeezes your thighs harder. Soon enough, you losing yourself. Watching as he covers your whole pussy with his mouth so he doesn’t waste a drop of your orgasm. You barley even get any wiggle room; he holds you still.
As you come down from your high, he finally shows mercy on you and crawls up from between your thighs, no longer messing with your tender flesh. “You taste so good, Y/n.” He kisses you, deliberately smearing your wetness in your mouth.
You feel his hard dick rub up against you. “You up for round 2?”
Xxx, Kat
P.s. I wrote this so falling asleep so sorry if it was kinda all over the place. Hope you enjoyed!
your smut…your writing in general… the way you capture such tender moments and oh my God the dialogue.
this is my formal request for boyfriend eddie fucking you on…preferably college (but whatever you prefer, my love) graduation day
Your name was announced. You walked across the stage, smiling and thinking about how you were finally done with school. No more long nights crunching numbers for stats, no more boring readings, no more boring essays. You were done.
A loud whooping sound drowned out all of the claps. Then, a loud: “That’s my fucking girl!”
Students—graduates laughed while staff glared. You spotted him amidst the sea of people, standing with his arms stretched up high. He brought both hands to his mouth and blew you a kiss.
And god damn it if you weren’t cheesing in the picture the photographer snapped.
*****
The two of you had snuck off to the bathroom, unable to wait until the ceremony ended. You needed him inside of you now.
Blood soared hot in your veins as you unbuckled his pants, pulling out his cock.
“Fuck, baby. That bad, huh?” he asks.
“Uh-huh,” you nod, diving back for his lips as you hiked up your grad gown along with the willowy dress you were wearing underneath it.
“Get inside of me, Munson. Fuck me.”
His eyes widen, then drop half-mast. “As you wish, honey.”
Shoving his cock inside you, you were thrown up against the wall, legs wrapped around him.
“Oh, fuck yes!” you growl, scraping your nails down his back. “Keep fucking me, baby!”
A shudder went through his body as he dug deeper, your pussy squelching loudly. Attacking his plush mouth, you savor his moan. You can’t help the smile that curves your lips.
In the mirror, you could see his ass flexing as he burrowed deep inside of your cunt, desperately rutting inside you.
“Mmm, fucking me so good, Eddie. Can feel your cock pulsing in my cunt. Does it feel good, baby? Tell me how fucking good it feels.” You don’t know what’s taken over you, but you want to devour him.
“You’re so tight and wet around me, Y/n. Your pussy’s drinking me,” he whimpers.
Typically, it was you helpless and pathetic in his arms as he wrecked you, but today, the roles were reversed. Watching his face wrinkle up in pleasure as he obeyed you demands.
You hiss in pleasure. “Good boy, Eddie. Such a good boy. Keep going until you cum in me. Use my pussy—mmm, yes! Like that.”
His glans begin to pulse and thump as he got closer and closer to his release. You knew what you’d see if you pulled him out of you: his hard dick, weeping precum.
The thought of your pussy soaking up all of that goo was overwhelming. “Oh, god, Eddie. I’m gonna cum! Fuck!”
Faintly, you heard the door open and a gasp and a girlish squeak before the door slammed shut.
Eddie’s hips stutter and slow. You grab his face, turning him back to you. “Mm-mm. You don’t get to stop until you cum in me.”
His face slackens in salacious shock, brows pinched, pink mouth agape. He nods quickly, punching his cock into you at a furious rate.
You resume watching his face contort, listening to his little moans echo in the room. Looking in the mirror, you got an eyeful of what the girl saw when she opened the door: a frenzied man humping into one of the graduates, crying out and mumbling expletives.
“Your fucking pussy! God-fuck!” he roars as he spilled in you. The hot flush of his seed in you tipped you over.
“Ah, shit! Don’t stop, baby!”
He thrusts through his orgasm, beginning to overstim, but not stopping because he wants you to finish cumming. High pitched moans flow right in your ear. Your vision is blurry, but you still watch him in the mirror. See the way he raises up on the tips of his toes as he fights the pleasurable pain, still rocking into you.
Panting, moaning, you smooth down his frizzled hair, pulling him back by his mane to kiss him—well, more like suck his mouth.
You pull away with an obscene pop!
A dopey smile splits his face. “Happy graduation, sweetheart.”
Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ only. Very slight overstim [?], pet names (sweetheart, good girl, baby), p in v, spit play, dirty talk, slight degradation, very slight begging, aftercare
Part 1
“I’ve gotta get inside of you. Do you want that? Lemme put my dick where I just licked you.” Eddie breathes into your mouth overtop of you, eyes aglow with love tangled with lust. He looked so pretty, he always did, but now with you on his face, his hair a mess, and under the private light of the moon, he looked breathtaking. How could you say no?
You can’t even speak, just nod and hug him closer to your body.
“Lift up. Take your shirt off. I wanna see you. All of you when I take you,” he demands, moving to take his off. It’s the only remaining article of clothing on both of your bodies, thanks to what just happened.
The second your pull your shirt back enough for your tits to be exposed, Eddie sucks a nipple into his mouth, nibbling gently while he rolls on a condom. Takes longer than normal because he’s shaking.
“Fuck, fuck. Okay. I got it.” He gives you a soft smile, running his finger along the apple of your cheek. “Always so good for me. So pretty.”
Feeling all warm and fuzzy, you tug him to you, bringing your lips together in a sticky kiss. The tip of his dick nudges through your folds, finding your hole and sinks in, your mouths still connected. You both let out a long moan as he settles himself inside, all the way to the hilt, his hips on top of yours.
“Oh, god, Eddie,” you breathe. Your pussy is so sensitive from your precious orgasm; it’s hard to stay still. You give a pinched moan. “Oh shit.”
“You’re okay, baby, you’re okay.” He soothed, speeding up his thrusts, intensifying the feeling of him. So long and thick inside of you. “I want you to cum again. Need to feel it. Squeezing me. Can you do that for me?”
It wasn’t hard, really. Seeing him fuck your and hearing the sounds of it and hearing how his voice goes slightly raspy but whiny.
“Yes! Oh fuck, Eddie, yes! Please.” You didn’t have to specify what you wanted; he already knew.
He licked the tip of his thumb, never breaking eye contact, his eyes almost an inky black, and placed it on your clit, rubbing little circles.
“Please, Eddie. Do it. Do the thing.” Your belly started to tighten with excitement. “I’ll scream your name.” A shy, but pleading smile on your mouth.
“Promise?” he asked.
“Swear.”
That’s all he needed. Manipulating your body so that one of your legs was over his shoulder and the other was pinned down off to the side by his hand, he thrusted and scooped his hips, hitting the sweet spot deep in your cunt. The spot that made your insides tremble. Made your mind go numb.
“Ohhhh, there she is. What a good girl.” His voice sounded far away, like if he were standing at the end of a tunnel and all you could hear was the faint echoes of his words. Snow clouded your mind, black taking over the edges of your vision. “Look, Y/n,” he said, almost amazed. You peeled your eyes open. “Look at your little hole taking my cock.”
It was a stunning sight; still floored you to this day that your body could fit all of his hard dick inside of you. His curls brushed your face as the two of you watched together, a grin on his face.
“I’m getting close, baby,” you warn, calming your breathing to slow it. “It feels so good. You’re so big. Sh-” You wanted to say it. Wanted to say a hell of a lot more things, dirty, filthy things; but you’d never talked dirty back to him and you were scared, understandably.
He could feel nervous tension building inside of you. The way you started to become less reactive, stuck in your head. “Hey, hey. Gimme those pretty eyes, sweetheart. Look at me.” You closed your eyes. You needed more time before you connected your gazes. What if he somehow could peek into your mind and see the things rolling around in it? “Look at me,” he repeated, slowing and deepening his thrusts, more intimate. “Can you do that for me? Cmon, pretty girl. Oh, hi there. Can I have a kiss?”
“Ye-yeah,” you whisper. He digs himself as far as he can go when he leans in to kiss you, causing his cock to reach what felt like the back of your cunt. “Oh! Oh, right there,” you plead, now meeting his thrusts.
“That’s it. Use that cock. There you go. You can do it. I know you can. Good girl, baby. You like watching me fuck you while I pet your clit, don’t you? Mmm, you dirty girl.”
“Eddie? Can you…” your voice trailed off, left hanging in the air. You couldn’t stop now, the words were already half way out. Focusing on anything but his face, you finish: “spit in my mouth?”
He went completely silent, hips stuttering, thumb stilling. Big brown eyes burning into you.
You still thrusted against him, ignoring the way your face blazed. “Eddie, please…”
“Say that again. Say it while looking at me.” The hand that was working your clit came up to pinch your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “I don’t think I heard you right.”
Braving against your nerves—you’d have to face what you said at some point—you peer up at him through your lashes, ceasing your thrusting. “Eddie, please…”
“Uh-uh. Repeat what you said before that.”
Your voice quivered; “Can you spit in my mouth?”
His eyes went haywire for a second, then hardened into something canine. Though his whole demeanor changed, and his voice was impossibly deep and angry-sounding when he said, “Stick out your tongue,” you felt his cock hard as a statue in you. It jumped inside of you as you opened your mouth, lolling out your tongue.
He groaned deep in his chest as he readied his spit for you, sucking the moisture in his mouth to the tip of his tongue. Overlapping his face over yours, the spit drooped out and onto your tongue.
Most of it was in your mouth, but a line of saliva connected your tongues. Instead of breaking it, Eddie connected the wet muscles, dragging his tongue along yours.
He spoke against your mouth, lips grazing. “I’m going to make you cum so fucking hard around me,” he promised. “And then we’re going to talk about the little fantasies going on in your head. Got it?”
To be frank, you were scared of what you’d turned him into: this deadly serious man. He didn’t say anything, didn’t make a sound as he started fucking your again, properly this time, thumb back on your clit. You kept watch of him, too locked in to divert your attention.
Naturally, your mouth opened as a moan tumbled out. He took the chance to grab your jaw and shove his tongue in your mouth. “Can I spit in your mouth again?”
Your nonverbal response was to open your mouth. He didn’t waste any time, giving you another gob. Short, hard thrusts cranked up that coil in your pelvic floor. Kept cranking until nothing existed except the two of you, connected in every way. No longer were you able to hold back your orgasm; you flooded his cock, convulsing, liquid splashing against the base of him.
Finally, he let out a noise: a feral shout that had been sitting in his throat, signaling his orgasm. He rode the both of you through the aftershocks, until you clamped your legs around him, curling inward—an involuntary reaction.
“Are you okay?” He asked gently. You nodded.
Pulling out and ridding the condom, you waited for the judgment to come… but it never did. He wrapped his arms around you, spooning, kissing your ear. “That was so fucking hot, Y/n. Have you been thinking about that for a while or was it a spur of the moment thing?”
“Ummm… been thinking about it. Ever since our first time.”
He groaned, pained or pleased, you didn’t know. “You’re telling me we could’ve been doing that?Why didn’t you say something before?”
“Because, Eddie, it’s filthy. It’s wrong.”
“Filthy, yeah. But who says wrong? Whatever we do together is our business. No one else can judge. I’ll never embarrass you by bragging about what we do to others. Never. You hear? What we do stays between us and the rules are whatever we make them, as far as I’m concerned. So don’t feel ashamed. I fucking loved it.” He tilted your head back for a sloppy kiss. Quickly, it got heated; nothing but lips and teeth and tongue. “Fuck,” he pulled away, standing on his knees. “Roll over. We’re doing that again.”
Warnings: explicit sexual content!!!! MINORS GET OUT OR HERE! SHOO! Spit play, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), pet names (baby, little thing, sweetheart), degradation kink,
It was the dead of the night, the only thing awake was the moon and your boyfriend watching a horror movie, quietly of course, since you were passed out next to him in nothing but panties and one of his T-shirts.
You were deep in sleep. It was one of those sleeps where drool was pooling on your pillow, sticking half of your face to the cover.
Dreams ran rampant in your mind. Dreams of Eddie and you traveling in his van to wherever your hearts desire. Parked in the middle of nowhere, behind a line of mountains where tiny rapid streams ran through the muddy lines in the ground, sparkling in the light of the bright sun, you and he were in the van.
Soft morning light fractured off on your glistening skin as you laid back on a blanket that was put down. Eddie was between your legs, pumping away at the tender flesh.
“Ohhhh, that’s right baby. Keep squeezing me like that. Mmmm, like that. Good girl.” His hair was pulled back and restrained by a band, revealing his face screwed up with pleasure as he braced himself above you. A bit of syrup shined on his lip.
Far, far away in your mind, you knew this was a dream, still able to be fully aware of what you were doing in real life, but having no control over it. You spread your legs, rolling your hips, trying to find purchase in the mattress beneath you; but to no avail.
You whimper, shifting as you try to find a surface you can hump.
Beside you, Eddie’s watching you, surprised and curious. Your goal was obvious, and the little noises you were making stirred his cock awake, hardening under his pajama pants.
He froze as you worked yourself over to his side of the bed, throwing a leg around him, and began grinding into him.
What a hungry slut, he thought, watching as you drooled.
“Mmm,” you hummed as your hand came up to grasp his shirt, balling it up in your hand.
In your dream, Eddie was inching closer and closer to orgasm, which miraculously and on dream-logic you could feel. Feel the tight ball in the pit of his stomach, cranking tighter and tighter as the pressure in his balls worsened, readying for a strong release.
“Cum in me,” you mumbled. It was a wet slur, but Eddie could make out the words.
“Sweetheart,” he gently shook you. It’s time for you to wake up and get what you’re craving. “Sweetheart, wake up.”
Running his plump lips along the ridge of your ear woke you up.
“Huh? Wha—Eddie? Mmph!” You ground the heel of your palm in your eye, trying to adjust to the gentle light coming from the TV. Squinting, you untangle yourself from Eddie, sitting up. “What, Eds? I was asleep.”
“Is that right? Sounded like you were having fun.”
“Hmm?” It settled in: the wet stick of your panties against you, the slight chill on your body from moving around the bed, parting from the warm spot in the bed. “Oh, um… I-I…” you blushed.
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “What were you dreaming about, hm?”
As soon as you tried to recall it, it fizzled out into nothing but snow. All you were left with was the feeling from the dream, the heat. “I… don’t know. Erm, sorry for-“ you tilted your head, motioning to the wet spot you’d left on the side of his shirt.
“No, no. Don’t be sorry now, baby. You’ve started something you gotta finish. Look what you’ve done.” He hooked a thumb under the elastic waistband of his pants and pulled back, revealing his naked erection, an angry red at the tip. “See?” He pushed his pants off, then ran a thumb over his hole, collecting the wetness that had beaded there and swiped it onto your lip. “Lick it, baby.”
You obeyed, swirling your tongue, tasting the salty musk. Heat enveloped your entire body again, this time three times more intense.
“Put your mouth on me,” he demanded, already gripping your hair to pull you down into his crotch. “C’mon. Yeahhh. Fuck.”
He moaned as you lapped at his slit, cock jumping. Grabbing him firmly at the base, you held him still as you shoved him down your throat, needing him as deep as possible. He hissed, his hips trying to buck.
The soft tuft of the curls at the bottom brushed against your nose, giving you a whiff of his scent. Slapping your tongue out, rubbing against the underside of his dick, you lick the seam of his balls. “Holy shit! Are you fucking serious?” He asked, breathless.
The strong vein that ran down the length of him pulsed against the roof of your mouth, signaling his orgasm. More precum leaked out; you swallowed, him still seated deep in your throat. It was tight, and you knew your throat would be sore the next day, thanks to the muscles working hard to slurp down the liquid.
“You dirty girl,” he growled, prying you off of his dick.
With a sloppy slippery kiss, he rolled onto his knees in front of you, quickly snatching off the thin fabric of your panties.
He grabbed your thighs, pushing up until you were in butterfly position, cunt completely exposed, soaked and gripping, giving little wet noises. The cool night air brushed against your wet skin, prompting goosebumps and shivers.
“Eddie,” you cry, caught on a desperate sob. You whine, wriggling your hips in his face, beyond words.
“Awww, little thing needs help, don’t cha?” He chuckles, tightening his grip on your thighs, the cold rings digging into the plush meat. “Don’t worry, I’ll help. Just stay still.”
Spreads the soft dewy petals of your cunt, his hot breath fanning over it. Just his breath alone felt amazing; you could get off on it.
You watch as he gathers the saliva, pushing it to the front of his mouth, then opens his lips to let it slowly land onto your exposed clit. You both moan, watching as it slides into your pulsing hole.
So turned on that everything was ultra-sensitive, you felt the warm liquid ooze as it settled somewhere deep inside your cunt.
It hurts, actually hurts, the way your hole is clenching as tight as possible around nothing. You could feel a ghost of his dick pushing inside your little hole, but it couldn’t compare to the actual thing.
“Eddie, please,” you beg, biting your lip to keep you from blissing out. “I can’t-” you break off in a huff.
“Such a pretty girl. Think she wants me. What do you think, sweetheart? Does your little pussy want me?”
You tilt your hips up, unable to keep the dirty smile off your face as the saliva slides deeper. “Yes! So fucking bad. Please, I’ll do anything. I need you. Anything Eddie. I swear. Just…just lick me.”
“Since you asked so nicely.” He both lowered his head and pulled you up to suction his lips to the seam of you. Your wetness coated his tongue, making every move audible as licked from your hole to your clit.
Hands went into his messy hair, grabbing for something to ground yourself. Small grunts left you while he worked his tongue against you, slurping when necessary to keep your juices to himself.
“Oh my god, Eddie!” you panted. “That feels so good.”
He groaned in response, dipping down to drive his tongue into you, his nose rubbing against your clit.
There was no other word for what he was doing to you other than devouring. His lips curled in and out as he kept sucking on your pussy.
Nothing could stop your orgasm from bursting. It came fast and hard, bursting in his mouth. Shaking and crying as it wrecked you, you held tight to his hair, helpless to thrust your hips into his face. Like he knew what you needed, he clasped his lips around your bud, slurping roughly, growling.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, you came down from your high, jerking as Eddie gave his last few sucks, drawing out the liquid from you.
“Fuck, sweetheart. You taste so goddamn good.” His mouth was splashed in your cum. He licked his lips clean, but the liquid on his chin remained. “I’ve gotta get inside of you. Do you want that? Lemme put my dick where I just licked you.”
summary: you just got your first vibrator and are eager to try it out, but your house has thin walls and no privacy. luckily, your best friend eddie has graciously offered his room to you.
warnings: masturbation (f and m), use of a dildo (obviously), mutual pining, a lil bit of voyeurism.
a/n: here you go, lovelies. especially @prettyboyeddiemunson who encourages my dirty thoughts and @izzyxplr (if anyone else wants to be tagged in future stuff just let me know) <3
You knocked on the door. It was the first time in years that you'd done that. Wayne insisted on you just walking in and making yourself at home, and as for Eddie, he was either listening to or making music way too loud to hear your tapping. One time, you had to go to his open window and throw an empty soda can at him to get his attention.
You prayed he'd have just as hard a time hearing you today.
As you waited for Eddie to answer the door, you wondered if you had time to go back to your car and drive off. It was too much to ask. He'd just said yes to be nice, but really he was uncomfortable. It had come up after you'd both been smoking... maybe a little more than you should have. You were pent up, irritated.
"You know, I haven't had sex in over a year."
He'd burst out laughing.
"Poor you, Y/N. Me neither."
"I'm so frustrated I actually bought a vibrator. Not that I've had the chance to use it."
Eddie had perked up at that. You parents were always home, either one or the other. And that thing was loud. It was borderline pornographic; even the buzz of it turned you on. The only reason you'd told Eddie about your little problem was the slim chance that he might take pity on you. God, so desperate you'd take a pity fuck from your best friend? Then again, you'd accept any reason he had for him to touch you.
One thing had led to another, like most things did with the two of you, and the night had ended in Eddie offering you the privacy of his own room. And you'd accepted.
Eddie opened the door, looking as if he had been in the middle of something. A thin sheen of sweat covered him. He had his dark curls pulled back into a messy bun, strands clinging to his throat. He was wearing a beaten white tee, the sleeves ripped off, and a pair of stonewashed jeans torn at the knees. He flashed you a smile.
"You're early. Are you that eager?"
It might have been just a joke -- everything was a joke with him -- but you still felt your cheeks heat up at the accusation. It was all you could think about that morning, your new vibrator weighing heavy in your bag. You had a little knot in your belly, which flipped and clenched with anticipation. Every bump in the road to his trailer sent shocks through you and made you clench your thighs.
"I, uh..." You cleared your throat.
Eddie stepped aside, letting you in. "Sorry," he laughed, shutting the door behind you. "Didn't mean to make things awkward. You're still alright with this, yeah?"
You nodded. "Only if you are."
He shoved one hand in his pocket while the other gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. "Well, I'm planning a long walk around the neighbourhood. See whose Christmas decorations are still up and all that. And I'll be in good company." He withdrew a new pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "So, take as long as you need."
"I'll keep the door locked until I'm done. Deal?"
He seemed so nonchalant. So cool about something that was very much not cool. You gripped the strap of your bag with both hands as he nodded and tugged his sneakers on.
"Deal," he said. "And relax, will you?"
"Huh?"
Eddie grinned and opened the new pack. "You're shaking like a leaf, Y/N. If you wanna have a good time, you have to relax. Nobody's walking in on you, okay?"
You took a deep breath. He was right. "Okay."
He put a cigarette between his lips and stepped outside. You heard the door lock behind, and it shook in its frame when he tested it to make sure it was shut firm. You wasted no time, stepping out of your shoes and heading to his bedroom.
It seemed you had interrupted something. You'd never seen Eddie's room so clean. His records were in their sleeves and placed in boxes, his cassettes stacked, and the bed -- God, it was made. You half expected to throw the comforter back to find rose petals and a bottle of champagne. Tingles rushed through you. He really did care about you having a good time.
You undressed, first quickly, stumbling out of your skirt. Then you took a breath. Relax. You undid your shirt, spending time on each button, feeling your skin as you exposed inch after inch. You shivered under your own touch. Over a month of trying to find the privacy. Finally, it was time.
You sat down on the edge of his bed and slipped one hand into your bag. It wasn't large or gaudy. You wanted something compact, subtle. Something gentle for your first toy. And this was perfect. You turned it on and off, testing the three intensity settings, your thighs clenching at the sound of it. You flopped down onto your back. Head against his pillows. You forced yourself to put the toy down beside you, feeling yourself first. Hands skating up your sides, down your thighs, over your tits, scratching your nails over your bra cups.
Hopefully, it's a long walk.
--
Shit. Shit shit shit.
It had been five minutes and one cigarette before Eddie came sprinting back to the trailer. Sure, he knew that Y/N was in there and needed privacy. But what if Wayne came back early? He had a key and every right to be there. Eddie cringed at the thought of his uncle walking in and hearing... that. Y/N would never forgive him.
So he came running back, deciding to guard the trailer until you unlocked the door. He parked himself on the front step, elbows on his knees, and waited.
Eddie tried to think about his plans for that night. The guys were getting together for a practice sesh at five, and he still needed to finish hammering out the last details for Hellfire's next session. They'd leveled up, and he wanted something to test their mettle.
But the more he tried not to think about you in there, the more his mind turned to it.
How could he say no to you? It was a terrible problem to have -- one he never had to worry about, given how often Wayne was gone. More than that, you were his best friend. And even more than that...
Eddie rubbed his chin. The thought of you laying in his bed, writhing, moaning, pumping that vibrator in and out of your hot, soaked --
He shut his eyes. No. He wouldn't think about that. It wasn't right, in fact it was selfish, using the opportunity to think of you that way. Not that thinking of you that way was anything new to him. But just the thought had desire stirring deep in his belly, his face heating up. He stood up, stretching. Maybe he could walk around the trailer, keep his mind off of it.
But as he rounded the far side, where his trailer faced the woods that stood between the park and the main road, he heard it. That singular buzzing that made his heart stutter and his cock twitch. Unmistakable. He found himself beside the window to his bedroom, the thin drapes drawn but the window cracked open to let out the stifling heat.
Eddie stopped. It was wrong, so, so wrong. But that only made it more fun. He had his back to the trailer, and turned his head just a fraction of an inch. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see your silhouette, stretched languid on the bed.
And you were... Oh, God.
--
You let the tip brush your nipple, which stiffened to a hard peak at the vibrating touch. You let out a gasp, your free hand playing with your other tit as you circled your nipple with the vibrator. It was on the lowest setting, and already it sent thrills through you. It wasn't the same, but you imagined someone's tongue teasing your stiff peak. Licking, flicking, twisting, biting.
His ringed fingers on your sides, keeping you still.
Fuck. You didn't want to think about Eddie. But you were surrounded by him. His clothes, his music, is scent. You turned your head, your nose pressing into his pillow, inhaling the smell of his shampoo. God, it was wrong. But it felt so good.
You couldn't hold back any longer. One hand grazed down your body until you reached your clit, two fingers spreading your folds. You were already so wet, but you needed more. You brought the vibrator to your lips and dipped it into your mouth, wetting it, as far as your throat would allow. You moaned around it, pretending it was him.
And the second you withdrew it, you touched it to your clit and gasped.
Electric shocks shot through you, a wave of pleasure rising and crashing over you. You let out a groan that turned into a sigh. You spread your legs wider, lifting your clitoral hood and grazing it again, this time just on the side. You couldn't control the moan that fell from your lips. You cunt clenched around nothing, begging for something to squeeze.
Soon, you promised yourself, forcing your ass back down onto the bed -- when had you lifted it? You circled your clit, one way and then the other, pausing where it felt the best. Knots tightened and undid in your belly, your heart racing. It felt as good as an orgasm, and you weren't even close to finishing.
Everything fell away from your consciousness. All you could focus on was that feeling, that buzzing, clenching, gushing, convulsing between your legs.
--
Eddie had his back against the trailer, palming himself through his jeans. He'd tried to resist, to keep that one boundary uncrossed. But the second you shoved that toy in your mouth and moaned around it, he went from semi- to rock-hard in less than three seconds and had to relieve some of the pressure.
He bit down on his lip, forcing back a groan as he rolled his hips, grinding into his hand. You had your back arched, your chest heaving, perfect tits catching the slat of sunlight that peeked in.
"Oh my God," you exhaled, the pitch of your moans growing higher, higher. "Oh my God, ohmygod..."
Eddie tipped his head back, eyes shut now. He didn't have to watch anymore -- God help him if he was caught. All he needed were the sounds you were making. Your quick, gasping breaths. Your groans, your cusses, your panting. The buzz of the vibrator as it went up one setting.
"Fu-fuck!" you stammered. "God, yes."
Eddie wanted to burst in. To bust open the door and climb on top of you, to show you that if you thought that was good, his mouth could do even better. He licked his lips and squeezed his erection through his pants, aching for more friction.
"More," you gasped, begging yourself to push further. Eddie turned his head and opened his eyes.
--
You slid the vibrator between your folds, and with a little stinging that quickly turned from pain to pleasure, pushed it inch by delicious inch inside of you. You couldn't decide whether to spread your legs further or squeeze them together. Your knees buckled, your orgasm rapidly approaching.
Your toes curled, one hand clenching the sheets as you dipped the vibrator in and out, slowly, savouring the filthy, wet sounds.
You didn't mean to picture him. But being stretched like that, laying back in his bed, knowing that he knew just what you were doing at that moment, you couldn't help but imagine him leaning over you, grunting with every slow, hard thrust --
"Eddie," you whispered, turning back to muffle your cries in a pillow as white-hot pleasure exploded in your belly and rippled out from you, making your whole body go fuzzy. You slammed the button, forcing the vibrator to its highest setting as you rode out wave after wave as it crashed over you.
All at once, it was too much. Your whole body twitched, overstimulated. You turned the vibrator off and, slowly, pulled out. Wetness gushed between your legs and -- unbeknownst to you -- pooled on the bed.
--
Lick it. God, please lick it. Half of him was ashamed of the thought, but the other half chanted it like a prayer. Eddie covered his mouth, biting a knuckle as you lifted the vibrator to your lips once again, swallowing it.
"Fuck," he breathed.
You laid there for a few moments, and he could hear you catching your breath. He slipped a hand into his pants, fighting back a moan at the contact and readjusting himself so that he didn't have an obvious boner when you answered the door.
It felt like hours before you unlocked the door, and he was halfway through another cigarette, sitting on the step, when you did. He glanced over his shoulder. Cool, be cool.
"Was it everything they say it is?"
You nodded, and did that cute thing where you tucked your chin down to hide your smile.
"Thanks again," you said, but he barely heard you. You said your goodbyes, and your legs wobbled as you walked back to your car.
If it were up to him, you wouldn't be able to walk at all.
The second you drove off, he stamped out his cigarette and went inside. It was cooler in the trailer, but his skin was burning hot. His shirt was off before he even got to the bedroom. He went over to his records, ready to put one on to mute the sounds he'd make just in case Wayne came home.
Then he stopped. Eddie's gaze slid to his bed, a record in his hands. There was a wet spot on his bed.
Fuck. This was bad. Disgusting.
His pants and boxers pooled at his feet, one knee on the bed, one hand balancing him while he stroked his cock. His tip was bright red, swollen, and soaked. The bed was still warm in places, especially the wet spot. He ground into it, one hand gathering the sheets to rut into them.
Eddie shut his eyes, imagining you cumming around his cock. Soaking it. He let out a high-pitched moan, gnawing at his lower lip at the thought of you licking your juices off of his cock.
He had both knees on the bed now, holding the sheets around his erection, moving his hips as if he were slamming into you. He replayed your moans in his head, every oh God and more. Just minutes earlier, you were here, soaking his sheets.
That thought undid him. Eddie choked on his next moan, hips stuttering as thick ropes of cum shot out, ruining his sheets even more. He let the sheets fall, looking at the mess he'd made but not seeing it. All Eddie could see was you, laying underneath him, mouth open and tongue out.
Are you going to start writing predator smut??????? I'm shaking with need
A/N: Predator x Female! Reader. Sex Pollen. Monster Fucking. Dub con I guess. Size difference. Animal death. Gore. Trash.
You didn’t know why he kept you. You were very much a liability.
Kidnapped from Earth and dropped onto an alien planet. Twin ruby suns. A jungle thick with wet heat as if it had just been swamped by a monsoon.
This new world was an enemy and it wanted to devour everything thrust upon it.
Others had been taken with you. Most of them were your colleagues from the New Mexico government facility you were employed at. They were obviously well versed in combat, while you were just a lab technician - a glorified assistant. You worked with the military, but you weren’t a fucking soldier.
Apparently, that had gotten lost in translation when the enormous spaceship had sucked you up.
It was the last thing you remembered. The uncomfortable bright heat enveloping you, tugging you away from the ground and causing your stomach to rocket into your throat. As you climbed higher, the purple mountains that dotted the New Mexico skyline had churned into a single line - a trail of ants marching to the finish.
Then - there had been nothing.
You’d awoken to explosions and shrieks. The wind was bloated with smoke and the metallic stench of nitroglycerin. It took you a minute, to recognize that you were in a tropical climate and another minute to realize that it was off. The birds sang in a staccato warble. The sky was pocked by too many suns. The light was different. Coppery. Golden. It was not right.
Confused and somewhat in shock, you’d gone stiff with fear. The others ran, barking orders in military codes you couldn't parse. They ducked and swerved, sliding deep into the brush and foliage of the jungle.
You couldn’t recall their names. Ryan, maybe? Grant? Laura? Michael? Anne and Lila?
What had alarmed them? What had set them off? Your chest shuddered with anxiety as your lungs struggled to expand. Everything inside you shriveled.
You had been dropped into a warzone. Your colleagues hadn't even called to you. Maybe, they didn't notice. It became increasingly apparent that you were alone, which only made your panic explode in the trap of your ribs.
And yet, you remained solid as a statue. Immovable.
Even as the yelling dissipated and the others had obviously fled, you simply stood there. The jungle became a jungle once more. Waxy and alive. Humid and slick with condensation.
It had gone quiet aside from the unmistakable sound of snapping branches and heavy footsteps. Birds darted across the blue-green sky.
You caught movement at the corner of your vision. You swallowed.
A creature appeared out of the unsettling, dark maw of the jungle. Still paralyzed with terror, you remained where you were as the giant strode toward you, his face covered by a blank, metal mask. There were others scattered behind him. Flashes of scales and silver. Shadows maneuvering through the tree line. You swear you saw the air itself flicker and warp like it hung over scorched asphalt.
The creature had to be seven feet tall, at least. He was built like a man, broad and incredibly muscular. His skin reminded you of a crocodile as it glimmered beneath fine black netting. He had thick fingers with blunt claws. Long, cylinder like dreadlocks. As he regarded you intently, he growled low.
It cracked you out of your stupor.
On instinct, you fell to your knees. You ducked your head, mouth practically pressed to the leaf-strewn floor. Please. Please.
You began to cry, whimpering like a wounded animal.
There were a few clicks, a grunt and finally you felt a rough touch under your chin. The creature lifted it, he tilted your face to the side. It seemed as if he did it forever. Hours. Minutes. You didn’t know. Within the masks' eye holes, a startling bright gaze raked over you.
Around his neck, there was a necklace of bones. Teeth. Fragments and shards. Tiny animal skulls and what look like a human jaw bone. You choked on a sob, tears burning as they slid down. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think.
This was a monster. Top of the food chain. You felt like you were asking for mercy from a great white shark.
Finally, he snarled and released your chin. He stood, towering over your prostrated form. This was it. Shutting your eyes, you waited for the hit, the fatal slash of one of those serrated blades hanging from his waist. Maybe, he’d do it by hand and pop your head like a grape.
Nothing.
You opened your eyes to find him crooking a finger at you, motioning you to follow him.
You should have been the first to be killed and yet you weren’t.
***
Out of survival, you listened to him. This creature. You’d assessed that he was a hunter. He had a clan of sorts and none of them appeared all that interested in you. When he had brought you to his camp, you’d received cursory glances from them, their glowing blue eyes catching you from their smooth helmets. A few clicks and grunts were aimed at you, but nothing more.
Regardless, you stuck to your creature like a leech, hoping he was at least uninterested in eating you. It was either him or the others and he'd already saved you once.
Your creature held weight there. You were certain of that. They seemed to treat him with a dignified reverence as he stalked through the camp. He was covered in white tattoos that crawled across his chest. His armor was night-black. He was one of the larger ones. Broad and tall and could be as still as a damn statue.
As the days began to blend, you were utterly bewildered.
You didn’t comprehend why he had spared you. Perhaps, you were to be bait? Entertainment? You were beginning to feel like a pet with the way he’d disappear into the jungle and bring you back headless, skinless animals of unknown origin. He’d tried to feed them to you raw and you’d had to explain to him that it would make you sick. It involved a lot of gestures and retching noises until, finally, he made a rasping groan that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.
He built you a fire after that, unmistakably huffing when you overcooked the meat.
***
It took you a week to realize, the thing could understand you. You had resorted to calling him Hunter, in addition to Fuckface, Asshole, and oversized Dino-Crab.
He responded to none of them, of course. But the last one had been your initial reaction to his face.
A few days into your hostage situation, he lifted his helmet in your presence to eat. You gasped. You hadn't meant to, but it was...a lot. He narrowed his eyes, clicking in annoyance. He said something to you that you couldn't translate.
Finally, he shoved a raw slab of bleeding meat into his mouth. His gaze still hot on your face as you openly watched him, filing away every feature of his species. The sloped head, the spikes, the tusks and small eyes. You could admire the alien for what it was. An Apex predator.
"You're like a crab kind of. A crab and a dinosaur...a Dino-Crab?"
He exhaled sharply and shook his head. He spoke again and the words sound suspiciously like weak. You gaped at him.
"Did you understand that?" you yelped.
He cocked his head, his expression twisting into something like a leer.
"Fuck," you hissed. You'd been insulting him to his face since he'd taken you. He began to laugh. At least, you thought it was a laugh.
***
You never saw the rest of your group. From what you gathered by the body language of the clan, they went out in hunting parties and then returned with large, skinned things (none of them human). Had they killed them out there? Were they still looking? They didn’t exactly seem in a particular hurry.
Sometimes they roared or thrust their spears at each other. Sometimes they'd get heated and would wrestle or spar.
In truth, it was like watching a pack of boys fucking around. You could tell when they were insulting each other, taunting and teasing. One creature had pointed in your direction and your captor had hissed at him, punching him so hard across the face that his tusks clacked.
***
Time passed. The days were washed in unbearable heat and the nights were icy and wet.
The Hunter slept beside you, seemingly content that you’d never dare run away. You didn’t. You were too fucking scared of whatever was out there. This was an alien planet with alien monsters. A plant could release poisonous spores. The rivers could be hiding deadly, hungry things.
Perhaps, they’d leave this planet and return to Earth to pick up more humans. Perhaps, he’d let you go, irritated at the fact that you could do nothing, but cower around him.
He never seemed angry with you. Just observant. Curious. When the wind was especially frigid, you'd find yourself curling up against his thigh or arm. He didn't push you away.
This was survival. You had no other choice. At least, that's what you told yourself.
***
“Jesus Fucking Christ,” you screeched as you scrambled back on your ass. Your chest hitched, your skin immediately beginning to prickle in a cold sweat.
The snake hissed at you, coiled and poised to strike. It looked venomous. Purple-pink with a viper-head. Its eyes glinted like pieces of obsidian against the long grass.
“Oh fuck,” you wheezed as you began to skitter further only to crash into something very hard. You glanced up to see the Hunter. Once again, he tilted his head in curiosity as if confused why you’d scream at this.
Snakes scared the fuck out of you and this thing was pissed. Choosing the lesser of two evils, you quickly clutched at the Hunter’s leg, pressing your cheek to his knee. He jerked an inch, but didn’t shake you off.
“Kill it,” you begged. “Please.”
Wordlessly, he flung a mercury-silver dagger at the snake just as it attempted to strike. It bled yellow and you felt your stomach turn over.
“Thank you,” you managed to stammer.
He grunted, the tone somewhat exasperated. He roughly extricated himself from your grip and sauntered forward.
As you stared at the dead snake, your eyes widened. The pieces were still wriggling. You audibly gagged and the Hunter peeked over his should at you.
His expression was inexplicably amused. It was the only word you had for it. He was laughing at you. He picked up both his knife and the snake from the dirt.
“Just toss it somewhere,” you suggested. “It’s-
He sliced down the belly, skinning it in one fell swoop. You scowled at him and he clicked at you. “We’re eating that aren’t we?” He clicked again, jerking his finger in what you now understood as follow me, stupid ass human.
***
The back of your neck ached from the insertion. You could not stop scratching right beneath your ear, scraping until it all went raw and bloody. Out of nowhere, the Hunter had picked you up and carried you over his shoulder into a small pod at the edge of their encampment. It was a steel room. A metal table. Machines that beeped and whirred. It smelled of antiseptic. When you realized it was a medical facility, you immediately went rigid.
“You’re - you’re not going to probe me are you?”
Ignoring you, the Hunter fumbled in a drawer before stepping toward the table. With you still over his shoulder, he managed to clamber onto it before forcing you down into his lap. One clawed hand collared the nape of your neck to hold you steady.
“What are you -”
Pain. Sharp and splitting erupted behind your ear.
You screamed, lurching in his arms as you elbowed him in the gut. Of course, it only made him growl against your cheek, his breath heavy as it dragged across your skin.
“Quiet,” he barked.
You stopped. Did he just? You shook your head, trying to expel the dizziness, the ringing in your ears.
"Am I dead?" you whispered, seizing the meaty forearm around your waist to anchor yourself. "Did you just shoot me?"
“You are a very strange female,” he muttered and you went slack against him.
***
The two of you had started to go off on your own hunts. Not like you were much help. You’d travel for days, returning to the camp only for a night of sleep and then to restock. Even though you now understood him, he barely spoke. He gave you one-word answers or just guttural noises of confirmation or refusal. Mostly, refusal.
Out of necessity, you began to read his body language to decipher his moods. On a hunt, his posture was constantly crouched in a prowl as if ready for an attack. Knees slightly bent, head cocked. You tried to follow along, uncertain about your purpose since you were surely just slowing him down.
Bored, you watched him climb a tree and scan the area for whatever threat or prey he was scouting for. You remained on the floor - left to toe at the dirt and wait. You’d begun to understand that this was sport for him. He enjoyed it. He drank it and fed into it and nothing seemed to excite him more than killing something.
He dressed in his victims.
When he shimmed down the tree, you tried to ignore the way the muscles in his back flexed. “Come,” he ordered and you followed.
As he stalked ahead of you, you studied his decorations. The bones and fragments of skulls and teeth that hung around his throat. They bounced across his shoulders and broad chest as he strode deeper into the green-black jungle. The tubular dreadlocks shifted in the wind. His armor reflected the twin suns.
To you, he was obscure in so many ways. He refused to give you answers and it was wearisome. Out here and alone with him, you decided to speak up.
“Why did you spare me?” Your voice was a little high-pitched, far more nervous than you intended. He was moving too quickly for your shorter legs to keep up.
“You would not be a worthy hunt.” His tone was flat and he didn’t turn to look at you.
“Why am I here then?” You were soaked in sweat, your feet ached in your improper sneakers you’d had to wear since you’d been dropped into this nightmare.
He didn’t reply. He simply continued forward, his pace deliberate and fast as he crossed through the dense foliage.
“Are you going to experiment on me or something? Breed me with your crab babies?”
That caught his attention. He abruptly stopped, shooting you a glance over his shoulder. His mask made him such an emotionless presence - foreboding and cruel. It gave nothing away, but it was not like you could really decipher the crustacean-like thing beneath it. “Breed you?”
“Yes...”
In a flash, he was in front of you, crowding into your space. Your head could only reach the middle of his chest and you had to lift your chin dramatically to even meet his gaze. “Why would I breed something so very small and weak?”
You bit your lip. Good question.
“Yautja only breed warriors, little one,” he explained, his voice very matter-of-fact. It almost felt like he was…letting you down gently. Wait - did he think you were asking him to breed you? Implying you’d wanted to get dicked down by this 7 ft tall monster who would no doubt tear you in half? “Our females are bigger than us…be content you have not met one. They are quite territorial."
Your mouth dropped open. You wanted to protest that that wasn't what you had meant, but he was too close for you to process anything like speech. You could make out the pattern of tattoos across his chest, the taut skin and tubular hair. Against your will, your stomach began to flutter. Your skin grew warm, flushed with an intensity that only bloomed hotter as he regarded you silently. The place between your thighs ached.
He made a low, sharp noise in the back of his throat and suddenly stepped away from you. He shook his head as if trying to clear it. He sniffed.
Fucking Christ. Could he smell you? Your arousal? Were you aroused? Shit. Shit.
“Come,” he ordered. “We will have to stop somewhere to sleep tonight.”
Great.
***
They took refuge in a cave beneath a large mountain. Beneath them, the dirt was a strange orange and the rock walls were mossy with lichen. A river gurgled by and the Hunter lit a fire for you.
You watched him undress, sliding off his chest plate and greaves. He undid his belt, but kept his metal bracers and netting on. He really was magnificent physically. The face was...terrifying, but the body? The thick arm muscles and broad shoulders, the thighs and cut abdominals.
He dropped down beside you, stretching out on the bed he’d made from leaves.
You couldn’t avert your gaze from the structure of him.
It ignited a longing in your core that you were attempting to bury somewhere else. It was unspeakable. It was Stockholm Syndrome and it was demanding something from you.
You would not. You shouldn’t entertain it.
You tried to focus on the wall beside you. You counted the cracks.
Even with the fire, the wind was frigid, it lapped at your body and sweat-damp clothes. You shivered against it, curling in on yourself until you heard the creature growl.
Without a word, he snatched you by the waist, turned you around, and hauled you against his flame-hot torso. Your nose was smushed into the bulging muscle of his bicep. His jaw dug along your skull. He rumbled, one of his clawed hands clamping down on the back of your head as he held you firmly. Your knees knocked against his upper thighs, your feet sliding along his shins. Beneath your ear, you heard the heavy thump of his heart. It was strong - rhythmic.
“Stop wriggling, female,” he snapped.
“Sorry,” you replied - the word muffled into his warm flesh. You couldn’t help it, everything in your system was screeching to get away from this thing that could surely eat you. You tried to get comfortable, but when your thigh brushed against his crotch he lurched and readjusted his grip around your waist. “Sorry,” you squeaked again and he sighed - audibly annoyed.
You had felt it though. Jesus. You had felt that.
It wasn't helping you chill.
You stiffened again, unable to just mellow out. Your heart picked up. Your fingers trembling as they found the thick skin around his ribs.
“Hush,” he coaxed.
"I can't." You were whining now and he grumbled something under his breath before tugging you closer.
After a moment, the Hunter began to vibrate…he began to purr. Deep, warbling noises that sang from his chest and made your head rise and fall with the movement. Steadily, he stroked your back, his other hand still firmly palming the crown of your skull. He smelled clean, which surprised you. He smelled a bit like you as if you had coated him in your human pheromones.
He whickered quietly and you eventually relaxed.
“Yautja?” you murmured. “Is that your name?”
“My kind,” he returned. “My species.”
“Then what’s your name?”
He didn’t respond.
***
“Bathe,” he ordered as he pointed to a river beyond the tall grass. You glared at him. Fucking rude.
“It’s not my fault I smell,” you shouted at him over your shoulder while walked toward the water. “You drag me around - all over this horrific planet without caring that I’m smaller than you and totally out of shape.”
You undressed, no longer minding if the Yautja saw you. You were exhausted, spread thin and, at some point, you’d given up. Did you want to die? No. But you were vulnerable and at the mercy of this thing. You were helpless. You weren't going back to Earth.
You splashed into the cool river, dunking your head before breaking the surface.
Suddenly you realized how quiet it was. You froze, your gaze slanting to the side where your captor stood like a column of marble. His legs were braced apart, his large arms crossed over his chest. His eyes glittered in the dark afternoon light, his expression very pointed as it rested on you.
He was blatantly staring; darting between your bare tits, your stomach and the curve of your ass hidden by the stream.
Calmly, he walked toward you, smoothly knifing his way through the gentle current. When he reached you, he lifted his hand before sliding his fingers up your naked arm and then crossing to run over your breast. When the tip of his nail skated along your nipple, you jolted. He hadn’t hurt you, but it had sparked a shock of of sensation.
His eyes widened and he whickered under his breath. He touched you again, gingerly scraping over the beaded tip of your breast.
"Hunter," you murmured and he paused before uttering your name. It sounded strange off his tongue like he had difficult speaking it.
"You said-"
The birds startled in the trees, flying in all directions. He whirled around, gaze fastened to the shore where only the dirt and grass shifted in the breeze.
"Stay here," he growled as he cut his way back to land. "Cover yourself."
He did not call you back until late.
***
The fever had broken you. It had been something stupid, too. You’d stumbled into a patch of gorgeous flowers. The petals had been pale purple and blue. They’d called to you as you stepped into the soft, velvet crush of them. A thousand colors. Rainbows and the scent of honey and blood and it made your ache.
You had heard the Hunter in the distance. He’d erupted with a startled noise. He’d told you to stop. He barked your name again and again as you sank into the silky bedding of the bright blooms.
But you did not. They’d consumed you. The pollen. Pink powder burst from their centers, causing you to sneeze.
It was only a moment before you felt strong arms band around your waist. Your Hunter had snatched you back, wrenching you away from the haze of pink.
Almost immediately, you felt your heartrate climb. His palm on your cheek was a relief. It was cool as the river beside you. You wanted him to take you to it, drown you in it. You wanted him all over.
Everything was so hot - flames - ripping up your skin and your cheeks and all of it swirling between your legs. You pulled helplessly at your shirt, your pants. You were trembling, a live wire of sensation.
“Help me,” you pleaded. “Please…please…”
“It was the blood flower,” he stated solemnly, his golden eyes sliding from your face to something above you. “It makes you…need…”
Your hands fell to his shoulders and you clutched them, the muscles tensing under your touch. He had a permanent stern expression due to his facial structure, but now it looked like he was nervous. He seemed uncertain, fearful.
He wasn't scared of anything.
Your vision distorted. Your ears began to ring with a harsh, grating rumble. You moaned.
“It will require me to -,” He paused, searching for the words before finally admitting: “...mate with you.”
Ah. It made all the sense in the world. That was what was screaming inside you. It demanded. It craved. It needed to be fed. Your hand fell to his groin and he did not push you away. You could feel it - unyielding, steel and hot smooth flesh.
He scraped the pad of his finger across your cheek. “You understand that - that you are very small, female. It will hurt.”
“I don’t care,” you slurred. “I don’t - don’t care.”
It all began to melt and melt. Your heart was in your throat. Your skin sheeting sweat. Suddenly, you felt warm, dry flesh against your cunt. He was cupping it. Your pants had disappeared. Lightly, he stroked the slit of your pussy, paying particular attention to your clit. It throbbed and your back arched away from the dirt. He pressed against your entrance.
“It…it grows very wet,” he observed, slightly awed. You felt him glide through your folds, collecting everything you could give him before pushing his soaked finger into you.
“Fuck,” you yelped, canting your hips up.
“There…,” he hummed. “Yes - open your legs wider.”
It was thick, stretching you obscenely as he curled and pushed deeper. The gesture was accompanied by the slopping noises of your cunt taking him and his expression twisted into something far more primal.
“More,” you demanded, rubbing the solid flesh of his stomach, the etched abdominal muscles that twitched under your hand.
“Patience,” he chastised, but you could feel how desperately aroused he was. He was pulsing with it and somewhere in the mess of that fever, you understood that he was trying to control himself. He continued to fuck you with his finger. When he withdrew it, he pressed a second to the first and pumped them back into you. You cried out, clenching around his knuckles. They were big, bigger than any man you'd had before. Abruptly, he stopped, face whipping down to yours.
Fuck. You tried to even out your breathing, biting your lower lip to ease the fullness between your legs.
"I must get you ready," he explained slowly. The fingers inside you moved an inch, a soft stroke like he was petting the walls of your cunt.
“It’s okay,” you assured him. “It’s - it’s fine - it’s good.” Your head once more grew heavy, cracking against the dirt as you dropped it. You needed everything inside you. The pain of arousal was beginning to worsen. It burned. As you tried to focus on him, your throat went dry. You were losing your ability to speak.
The Hunter lowered his face to yours, his voice terribly serious.
“Once I am inside you, I will not be able to stop.”
Was he refusing you? Would he resist?
You couldn’t.
You sat up on your elbows, your eyes swimming with tears of frustration. He had two of his thick fingers stuffed inside you and it was not enough. “I don’t care.”
There was a long stretch of silence before he nodded once.
He sat back on his heels and without another word, he gripped you by the hips and flipped you onto your stomach. You could feel him undoing his belt, his armor. You lifted your ass to him, presenting yourself. Not giving a fuck how this might look or if it was wrong because it had to be wrong. He had kidnapped you had he not? He had taken you.
Who cares? It was all heat. It was all painful. Your heart was going to fall out of your mouth and onto the ground.
There was something solid and prodding against your heat. He gripped your waist, dragging the fat length of his cock through the folds of your sex. He drew back, nudging against your entrance before he began to breach you. It was a lot. Even in the haze of whatever this was, your cunt would not take him fully. He had to pet your sides, his other clawed hand fondling your clit.
“Relax, little one,” he crooned. “Your cunt is having difficulty taking me.”
No fucking surprise there.
You whimpered, dropping your cheek into the dirt. His hands on your ass spread you open, baring the flesh of your sex to him. You heard him spit and then felt it drip through your puffy folds.
"You must relax," he repeated and then purred again just as he had done when he got you to sleep in that cave.
He used his knees to widen your thighs further. He slid back, easing out to the tip before driving forward, sinking unbearably deep - hitting the very cup of your womb. You were impaled on him - totally skewered on his cock. The gravel bit into your skin. Your toes curled; your forearms barely carried your weight.
Gingerly, your Hunter braced his forearm in front of your head, baring his body above yours. You could feel his chest against your back, his dreadlocks tickling your cheek. He eased out a few inches before plunging forward. He repeated this. Again and again.
It took your breath. You choked and, this time, he did not stop. He rocked into you, his pace now rough and deliberate as he claimed you in short, fast strokes. There was the unmistakable sound of slapping flesh, his hips snapping against your ass with every feral grunt.
He pinned you beneath him and each thrust felt like it had punched your womb, your heart. It ached and that ache spread throughout your pelvis, your belly. It was warm and sweet as syrup and you wanted him to bruise you. You wanted him to break you in half. You wanted him to swallow you completely and perhaps he would.
***
He did not stop because he simply couldn’t. You’d catch your breath and then the fever would hit you again. You’d crumple, ripping at the Hunter, crying out for him like a broken thing.
He’d wordlessly pull you into his lap, your hips bracketed in his enormous paws before he’d slam you down on his cock. You were full of him. He’d release you and there would be the unmistakable feeling of his seed seeping between your legs. Sometimes, he’d stare at it, watching it with a strange interest until he’d push it back into your body. You shuddered with the orgasms he delivered. He enjoyed touching you in new ways, occasionally hitching your knees over his shoulder so he could taste your cunt with his elongated tongue. It pleased him to bring you pleasure.
Fucking you seemed alien to him. A new sensation. The sex was constant. Hour and hours and he never tired. He tugged your legs over his bulging thighs before feeding his cock into you. It would still make you twitch with a bright sting at the thick of him, but you’d take it regardless. He’d fuck you slow - sawing his hips - gliding forward and back as his predator-like gaze stayed rooted to where his too big shaft was stretching you open. He'd trace the flesh parted around his length, his voice husky as he told you how pretty it was.
You didn't even know he knew what pretty meant.
His hands fondled your tits, the skin of your belly. “You are so small,” he mused before giving you a deliberate pump that sent your spine scraping up the ground. “Soft and submissive. I did not know that mating could be like this.”
“I-I didn’t either,” you sighed, drunk off of the feeling of his ridged cock kissing your walls, his powerful claws holding your ass up.
He cocked his head. “Has this helped, female? Are you sated yet?”
“No,” you whispered even if the fog had somewhat cleared. You would never be able to walk again. Your legs jelly. Your pussy probably…raw and chafed and swollen. It was worth it though. Delicious.
You lifted your chin, your eyes finding his in the dark. The suns had dipped below the mountain. The air could be cold, but you would not know. Everything screamed like a fire inside the cage of your ribs and the clutch of your womb. “Why did you spare me?” you asked, aware that you had him vulnerable.
He seemed unsurprised by the question. He shrugged - a very human reaction that did not fit him. “I have no answer. I simply wanted you."
