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a/n: I have free will and will keep posting Kinktobers until I'm done, I'm just really busy and look...idk what spurred this certain story but here we are. Anyways I love Phaidei and they are used to pain so whatever.
Phainon’s eyes snapped open, his head was throbbing from whatever blow had knocked him out. The world came into focus slowly for him; he first noticed the cold metal bars in front of him, then he realized his wrists were bound tightly behind his back with thick metal shackles that bit into his flesh. He was in a kneeling position with his ankles secured to the floor of the cage, forcing his legs apart just enough to expose him vulnerably. There was a thick gag stuffed in his mouth, stifling any cry he might muster into pathetic, garbled whimpers. And worst of all, he was naked, his body on full display in the dim flickering lights of the dank room. Panic immediately surged through him.
His eyes roamed around the room briefly before they fell upon Lygus who loomed outside of the cage. Though the intelletron never showed any kind of emotion on his face it almost seemed a smug grin was on display. He paced slowly in front of Phainon, savoring the moment.
“Ah, my persistent little pest. You have been a thorn in my side, for far too long. Swooping in like some self-righteous savior. It ends now. I have you right where I want you. Bound and helpless. And I’m going to make your insignificant life a living hell. Not quick or merciful, just endless misery. You will beg for death. But even that won't come easy.”
Phainon’s heart pounded, his blue eyes darting wildly around the chamber for some kind of way out. The stone walls were slick with moisture, chains dangled from the ceiling, the acrid scent of rust filled his nostrils. His gaze eventually locked onto the cage across from him, and his blood ran cold. There, staring at him in an identical prison with eyes wide in horror, was Mydei, His frame strained against his bonds, mouth sealed with the same cruel gag, hair matted with sweat.
Lygus followed Phainon’s stare and chuckled, a low oily sound that echoed off the walls. “Oh yes. Your precious Mydei. He is here for the show, of course. He will watch you suffer at my hands. He gets to witness every twitch, every tear, every broken gasp as I break the perfect hero piece by piece.”
Phainon thrashed against his restraints, his muscles bulging in a futile rage. But the chains held firm. Muffled protests vibrated through the gag as Lygus unlocked the door with a metallic clang and stepped inside carrying a small wooden bowl. In it, a peeled ginger root, shaved smooth and glistening with its own juices, waited like a weapon. “Let us begin with something simple, shall we? A little burn to remind you who is in control.”
He grabbed Phainon’s hips roughly, pulling him forward until his ass cheeks spread against the strain of his bound legs. Phainon bucked, trying to kick, trying to move, but Lygus pinned him down with a knee to his back. “Resistance is futile, my dear Phainon.” He pressed the ginger root against Phainon’s tight asshole, soft at first, then insistent as he twisted it in. Inch by burning inch, it slid past the resistant ring of muscle, filling him with its unyielding girth.
Phainon’s body went rigid, a choked scream trapped in his throat as the juices activated. The fire started slow–a prickling heat deep inside that then bloomed into a vicious unrelenting burn that radiated through his ass. He began to shake violently, sweat beading on his chiseled chest and abs, every fiber of his being screaming against the invasion.
Tears pricked at his vision, his resilient spirit fighting to hold back the sobs. Lygus stepped back, admiring his work, the root’s tail end protruding from Phainon’s clenching hole. “I commend your grit, hero. You’re resilient, I will give you that. But we are just getting started. We have so much left to explore; your screams will be music to my ears.”
Across the chamber, Mydei rattled furiously against his cage bars, the metal groaning under his frantic thrashing. His bound hands clawed at the air, body slamming forward only to be tanked back by the restraints. His eyes were locked on Phainon, filled with helpless fury and aching worry.
“Look at your comrade, your friend, and know there is nothing you can do to save him.” The words dripped with venom as Lygus’s hand trailing mockingly over Phainon’s sweat-slicked shoulder, his fixed on Mydei. The touch made Phainon’s body tense, his muscles straining against the shackles, but there was no give, no mercy.
Lygus walked around and knelt before him, his rough hands seizing Phainon’s cock without preamble. He produced a chastity cage from what seemed like thin air–a cold metal sheath lined with inward pointing spikes, sharp enough to prick but not pierce deeply. With deliberate slowness, he forced the ring around the base of Phainon’s shaft and balls, then slid the spiked tube over the head, locking it shut with a click. The device clamped tight, confining any growth to a prison of pain.
Phainon’s breath hitched through the gag, the burn from the ginger warring with the fresh chill of metal against his skin. Every move sent the spikes digging in, a reminder of his subjugation, as Lygus’ eyes gleamed with anticipation for the next layer of torment.
“Try not to get too hard, or you’ll hurt yourself.” Lygus snickered, his voice dripping with malice. Unsatisfied, he produced heavy lead weights and attached them to the ring at the base of Phainon’s balls, each one clinking as it dangled, pulling his sensitive sac downward with relentless gravity.
The stretch burned immediately, a deep painful ache that made his thighs quiver. And just when he thought he would get a moment of respite, Lygus pulled out the nipple clamps, vicious alligator jaws with serrated teeth. He pinched Phainon’s left nipple hard, twisting it erect before snapping the clamp on, the pain drawing a muffled gasp through the gag. He repeated it on the right, the chain linking the clamps swaying lightly, tugging with every breath Phainon took.
Phainon struggled fiercely, chains rattling as he twisted his hips in vain. Sweat slicked his skin, but escape was an illusion. Across the chamber, Mydei’s eyes simply shared in his torment, the connection between them a silent scream of anguish.
Despite the horror, Phainon’s body betrayed him. The sight of Mydei’s lithe naked body before him stirred an unwanted heat in his groin. His cock swelled within the cage, pressing against the spikes that now dug into his tender flesh, each throb sending sharp stings down his shaft. He tried to beg, a desperate “Mmmph! Nnngh!” bubbling from his stuffed mouth, but Lygus only threw his head back and laughed, the sound booming off the stone walls. His fingers grazed the chain between the clamps, giving it a sharp yank that ripped a fresh wave of fire through Phainon’s chest.
Lygus reached behind Phainon, gripping the ginger root still lodged in his ass, the burn had already dulled in comparison to everything else. With a slow, twisting pull, he extracted it, the pain ebbing into a raw throbbing soreness that offered Phainon a brief reprieve. He sagged slightly, chest heaving, but the relief was shattered as soon as he saw Lygus reveal a sleek robotic cock, thick and veined with pulsing lights, engineered for endless endurance and force. It hummed faintly as it extended, the tip already leaking synthetic lube.
“I was hoping you’d learn your place with that ginger root, hero but regardless you’re all loosened up and ready for me,” Lygus sneered, his tone laced with mocking satisfaction.
“Lets see how tight the ass of the great hero really is,” Lygus growled, positioning himself behind Phainon. Phainon bucked desperately but Lygus simply slammed forward into him without mercy, the robotic shaft spearing into Phainon’s unprepared hole, stretching him brutally around its girth. Phainon arched with a choked scream, the intrusion burning as it bottomed out, grinding against his prostate.
The machine-driven piston began its rhythm, thrusting deep and hard, each plunge forcing Phainon’s body to jolt forward against the chains. Lygus gripped his hips, holding him steady for the assault, the humming vibration radiating through Phainon’s core.
He grabbed a fistful of Phainon’s white hair and yanked his head back, lifting his face so his eyes were forced to meet Mydei’s across the gap. “Watch him as he watches you,” Lygus hissed, pounding deeper, the robotic cock vibrating slightly to amplify the sensation. The spikes in the cage tore at Phainon’s swelling erection, drawing beads of blood that mixed with his precum. The ball weights swung wildly, the clamps on his nipples pulling taut and biting hard with each impact. His world narrowed to the relentless fucking, his gaze locked with Mydei’s, filled with tears and terror.
“You’ll be next, my dear Mydei.” Lygus taunted, his hips thrusting harder into Phainon. “Watch as I break your precious hero. Watch as he becomes nothing more than a useless fuck toy.”
Summary: fem!reader x Sylus, Sylus has a suprise for you on your birthday, my take on your first time with Sylus.
Cw: blindfolds, unprotected sex, light bdsm, piv
WC: 2.2k
A/N: I'm normally a Caleb girly but Sylus makes my brain go awoogah sometimes too anyways this not my best work I've had a lot off stuff going on so I'm behind on these posts.
By the time you push open your apartment door, all you want is a shower and a quiet evening to yourself. Work has wrung you out completely and your birthday has mostly been a blur of polite smiles and fighting wanderers. You don't even notice the box at first.
It sits on the counter like it’s been waiting for you all day, wrapped in black paper that shimmers faintly when the light hits it. A small black satin envelope rests on top, your name written in Sylus’ unmistakable script. Your pulse gives a jump.
Inside the box lies a gown like a pool of midnight silk, soft as a feather beneath your fingertips. Beside it gleam a pair of crimson stilettos, shining like drops of wine. Nestled in a velvet pouch are a pair of black pearl earrings with a matching necklace. You open the envelope.
“Come over for your birthday, I've prepared something special. -S”
You hesitate, exhaustion from the day pulling at your bones, but you know curiosity always wins where Sylus is involved. So you set off to the N109 zone, where his manor crouches among silver pines, shadowed and half forgotten by the decrepit city around it.
The door groans open like it’s expecting you, and the smell of sandalwood and roses drifts through the air. Inside, the front hall is silent and empty. Dim sconces flicker along the walls. There is no grand welcome, no Sylus waiting with his usual smile, no Luke and Kieran leaping from behind velvet drapes to surprise you.
Instead, you follow a trail of flickering candles down the marble halls, heels clicking in rhythm with your quickening heartbeat, until you arrive before a large antechamber with tall arched doors. There on a small table, sits a silver tray. On it lies a folded piece of parchment and a black silk blindfold.
“Trust in me. All will be revealed. -S”
Your heart pounds as you tie the blindfold over your eyes, the world plunging into darkness. The cool silk muffles the light, and all the sounds around you sharpen–the whisper of fabric, the click of your heels against the marble, the heavy creak of the doors as you push them open.
Clapping echoes through the vast space, slow and deliberate. You reach for the blindfold but a voice stops you cold.
“Not yet, darling,” Sylus purrs, his tone deep and sultry. “Ruin the surprise and I’ll be disappointed.”
You freeze and put your hand back down. “Do you have some kind of large cake in here for me?”
He laughs, a low rumble that vibrates through the air. “No, that is not quite the surprise I have planned for you, kitten.”
Silence falls, thick and charged. Then, a metallic rattle–chains shifting against stone. Your skin prickles, imagination running wild.
“Now,” he commands softly. “You can take it off.”
You untie the blindfold, blinking as your eyes adjust to the dim, reddish glow bathing the room. Crimson light filters in from hidden lanterns, casting long shadows across velvet drapes and polished floors. And there, before you, kneels Sylus. Powerful but completely surrendered to you.
Sylus’ messy silver hair falls over his forehead, wild and untamed. His sharp features, chiseled jaw and predatory lips are softened only by the blindfold that covers his piercing red eyes. Pale skin gleams under the low light, his shirtless torso a sculpture of lean muscle with a few faded scars. And then you notice his hands chained to the wall behind him, wrists bound in heavy iron links that clink softly with every movement.
“A gift for you,” he murmurs, voice husky. “Unwrap it as you will.”
Your eyes immediately trace the lines of his body–broad shoulders, toned chest rising and falling with every breath, the way he is arched towards you even with the chains pulling his arms back.
Heat pools low in your belly, the air thickening with suspense.
You step closer, heels clacking across the floor, the gown sliding against your thighs with every move. Sylus’ lips curve into a smirk, hearing your approach. “Happy Birthday,” he says, the words an invitation to claim what is yours.
Heat surges through your body, a fire that starts in your core and spreads like wildfire through you, igniting every nerve. You’ve fantasized about this exact moment in stolen dreams, the ones where he yields to you in ways that make your pulse race. Now, staring at him–chained and blindfolded, utterly at your mercy–you wonder if he’s plucked those dreams straight from your mind. Is this some kind of prank?
Sylus cocks an eyebrow, “Are you just going to admire me like an art piece? Not quite what I expected, but it is your birthday I suppose…”
You roll your eyes before extending your hand, fingers brushing his bare chest gingerly. The skin is warm and firm under hardened muscle as you slide your palm downward, tracing the ridges of his hardened abs. He shivers under your touch. “Don’t tell me you’re just going to tickle me,” he drawls, lips twisting into a fake pout, his voice laced with that usual teasing edge.
You shush him sharply, your mind still racing with possibilities. “I’m thinking,” you grumble.
Your hand ventures lower, dipping toward the front of his pants where the fabric is already strained against his growing arousal.
Sylus lets out a chuckle. “I should have known you’d go there first, little bird.”
A pout forms on your own lips, not that he can see it, but it's there nonetheless. With a dramatic ‘hmph!’ you pull your hand away, denying him the contact.
His laughter rumbles again, richer this time, vibrating through the air between you. “I wasn’t telling you to stop, kitten.”
“Stop teasing me,” you demand, sinking down your heels until you’re squatting at his eye level. You press your hand flat against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your palm, then push firmly forcing him back until he settles into a seated position on the floor, chains rattling as he adjusts. His body yields to your touch without resistance.
In one fluid motion you swing a leg over him and straddle his lap. The gown rides up your thighs, silk pooling as you settle your weight onto him. You begin to roll your hips forward, grinding against the bulge in his pants. The friction sends sparks through you, his cock thickening under the pressure and Sylus lets out a satisfied groan, low and raspy, his head tilting back slightly against the stone.
You maintain that slow grind, rolling in languid circles against the swell in his pants, each motion drawing on the friction that is building like a storm. Your hands roam upward along his torso, fingers splaying over the planes of his chest, tracing the contours of his biceps, feeling the way his muscles tense and flex under the heat of your hands.
Another low moan escapes his lips, deep in his chest, vibrating straight to your core where your desire pools hot and insistent, making your thighs slick with need. You lean forward, your mouth ghosting over the sensitive skin where his jaw meets his neck, lips hovering there teasingly before finally pressing a soft kiss to the spot, tasting the faint salt of his sweat and feeling the pulse hammering beneath.
Your mouth travels, planting kisses along the column of his neck up to the sharp line of his cheekbones before angling your head to capture his lips in a hungry press. His mouth yields to you immediately, warm and inviting, tongue flicking out to meet yours.
“There you are, sweetie,” he groans against your lips, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “I was wondering when I’d get to give you a birthday kiss.”
You dive deeper into the kiss, tongues dancing, teeth grazing his lower lip as you pour all your pent up longing into it. The flavor of him, dark and intoxicating, floods your senses, making your head spin. You pull back reluctantly and breathless as your hands drop to the waistband of his pants.Your fingers work the buttons open clumsily before you tug the zipper down, freeing his cock from its confines. It springs up, thick and veined, the length just as impressive as the girth, curving slightly toward his abdomen, the head already glistening with pre-cum. Better than you ever dreamed of.
Your pussy clenches at the sight, a reflexive squeeze of your walls in eager anticipation as you imagine how he’ll fill you up. The ache between your legs is unbearable, your arousal has already drenched your underwear, the fabric clinging damply to your folds. You rise from his lap, the chains clinking softly as he shifts again, and hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties. Sliding them down your legs, you step out of them, cool air kissing your exposed skin.
You position yourself over him again, guiding his cock with your hand, the velvety hardness throbbing against your palm, and lower yourself inch by torturous inch. His broad head nudges past your slick folds, parting them with a stretch that borders between pain and ecstasy. Your walls grip him tightly, fluttering as you sink down taking more of his length until he is buried deep inside you.
Sylus gorans, his hips jerking upward within the limits of his chains to drive himself deeper. Your hips begin to lift and fall in a steady rhythm, riding the thick length of his cock with a bounce that sends pleasure racing through your core. Your hands grip his shoulders for leverage, feeling the way the muscle bunches under your touch as you rise up, nearly letting him slip free only to sink back down hard, taking every inch of him until your ass meets his thighs.
Every thrust pushes you to the brink, the grinding against your inner walls, the stretch of him as you build closer to climax. You fight it back, determined not to unravel just yet. This moment, this gift of his, bound and yielding to you is too precious to rush. Not that Sylus is staying passive, his hips buck upward to match your pace, his need mirroring yours, evident in the way his cock throbs inside you.
You start to feel a little frustrated, craving the weight of his hands on your skin, pulling you closer, claiming you fully. You let out a huffed exhale, half sigh and half growl and he catches it immediately, head tilting.
“Whats wrong? Not up to your standards, Kitten?”
You bite your lip, heat flooding your cheeks. “I just….I want your hands on me,” you admit softly.
He barks a laugh, rich and rumbling. “Is that all? You should have said so sooner.” There's a shift in the air, then a faint hum of energy. The chains clink once, then slacken with a metallic groan as his wrists slide free like the links were just a mere suggestion. His hands are on you in an instant, large and calloused, roaming with possessiveness. His fingers trace the curve of your waist, then grip the swell of your hips as he guides your next bounce forcing you deeper onto his cock.
“Ohh fuck, Sylus.” You moan, every moment of your dream being met in this moment.
He slides his palms upward over the silk of your dress, cupping the underside of your breasts with a firm squeeze that makes you arch into him. His touch is everywhere, caressing the plumpness of your thighs, kneading your ass, then returning to your chest where he pulls the top of your dress down letting your breast spill free. He rolls the sensitive peaks between thumb and forefinger until they are hard and aching.
You gasp as his mouth follows, hot and demanding, latching on to one nipple with a suck that pulls a moan from your throat before switching to the other one, lavishing it with the same attention. The dual assault has you teetering on the edge, your rhythm faltering as you get closer to orgasm. But he doesn't let up, thrusting harder now, unrestrained as his hips slam up to meet yours with a brutal force hitting that spot inside over and over until you can’t handle it anymore.
“Been looking forward to this for months,” he growls against your breast, breath hot over your damp skin. “Dreaming of how tight you’d feel. How you’d ride me until I couldn’t think straight.” Your pussy spasms around him, the orgasm ripping through you like electricity as you cry out. He follows seconds later, a deep groan tearing from his throat as his cock erupts inside you, hot ropes of cum flooding your pussy as he rides out the waves, hips jerking erratically until he’s spent.
You collapse against him, both of you damp with sweat, breaths coming in ragged pants. You lift your head, a lazy smile on your lips. “You never even got to see the dress,” you tease.
Sylus chuckles, one hand idly stroking your back while the other reaches up to tug the blindfold off. His piercing eyes lock on to you and drink in the sight. The dress, once elegant and teasing, is now a rumpled pool of fabric around your hips. The crimson heels remain strapped to your feet, a stark contrast to the disheveled state of the rest of you.
He grins, slow and wicked, his eyes sharpening with appreciation. “Well I see it now,” he says, voice dripping with amusement as his gaze roams your body. “And this is exactly how I wanted to see the dress. Off of you.”
Summary: Tojixfem!reader. You call your boyfriend Toji to pick you up from the bar cause you got too drunk with coworkers and also forgot you called Toji at all, good thing he finds it, and you, cute and decides he cant wait for yall to get home before he can ravage you.
CW: Dubcon but like not really, outdoor sex, intoxication, fingering, cunnilingus
WC: 2k
A/N: Toji is so bbygirl and also so *barks* anywaayyyssss this took me so long cause work has been busy, trying to upload these faster.
You stumble out of the bar, ankle giving a sharp twist in the heels that you’re now seriously regretting wearing. Your hand shoots out to grab the doorframe that leads out to the narrow alley on the side of the building, steadying yourself the best you can as the world tilts. The lights blur into hazy doubles under your drunken gaze but you’re still convinced you can wobble yourself home or at the very least to a cab.
You gradually make your way to the street, fumbling through your bag for your pack of cigarettes. Your fingers catch on everything but what you’re looking for. And then, suddenly, you hit a wall. No. Not a wall. A person.
You jolt, startled and mortified, cigarettes slipping from your hands as you blurt out a string of apologies. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking! Sorry!” Your words come out slurred, tumbling over each other, and the wall–no, the person you ran into lets out a low chuckle. You recognize that laugh.
“No need to apologize, doll,” Toji says, crouching down to pick up your cigarettes. He pulls one from the pack and pops it between his lips glancing up at you with that familiar smirk. “You don’t remember calling me, do you?”
Your cheeks flush, the world still spinning a little from all the cocktails you knocked back with your coworkers. An embarrassed smile tugs at your lips as you look at Toji, his dark eyes gleaming with enjoyment. You don’t remember, but it would make sense for you to drunkenly call your very annoying, very smug boyfriend to rescue you.
“I…no, I guess I don’t,” you mumble, your voice soft and slurred, a giggle bubbling up unbidden. You flash him a sheepish smile. “Sorry babe, it’s been a long night.” You reach out and grab his arm for balance as he lights the cigarette, his eyes never leaving you.
“Figures. You were babblin’ on about needin’ a ride home, sounding half-asleep already. Luckily I was close by.”
Your body feels heavy as you shift your weight, those damn heels pinching your feet. So you balance on one foot, wobbling a little as you tug off one heel, then switch to the other with the kind of grace only experience (and desperation) can teach. Toji takes a slow drag from his cigarette, watching you with amusement. “Getting undressed already? We’re not even home yet, baby.”
“Ha. Ha. So funny.” You shoot him a look and wave one of your heels in his direction like a weapon. “I can’t keep walking in these death traps.”
He holds out your crumpled pack of cigarettes in his large hand while he takes another puff, gaze trailing down your body in a way that makes your skin prickle, his eyes lingering on the hem of your dress as it clings just right to your curves. His eyebrow arches. “What’re you all dressed up for anyways? This really a night out with coworkers?” He throws a suspicious glance back at the bar. You roll your eyes and give his chest a light smack, feeling the solid muscle beneath.
“Yes, Toji. Calm down.”
Toji chuckles, low and rumbling, as his eyes do another sweep of your figure, appreciative of the way the fabric hugs your hips and dips at your cleavage. “I’m just sayin…it’s a nice dress.” You smack his chest again, this time trying not to laugh.
A flush creeps up your neck, but you play it bold, tossing your hair as you start padding barefoot toward the mouth of the alley to his waiting car. “Well you can take it off of me when we get home you brute,” you shoot back.
Toji falls into step beside you. “What if I don’t wanna wait till then?” He flicks ash from his cigarette, free hand brushing your lower back. You glance up at him, heart picking up pace.
“You’re going to have your way with me? In an alley?”
He shrugs, broad shoulders rolling casually, like it would be the most natural thing. “Why not? It wouldn't be the worst place in the world.” Without another word he drops the cigarette, grinding it out under the heel of his boot with a twist. Then in the next beat his arms snake around you, pulling your softer frame flush against his own.
His cologne hits you first–musky, woodsy, intoxicating–filling your nostrils as you inhale sharply. Your heels clatter to the ground, forgotten, as his hands roam, one sliding down to grip your ass, squeezing the full cheek through your dress, the other tracing up your side to cup your breast. You gasp, arching into him as his lips find your neck, hot and insistent. He nips at the skin below your ear, then sucks, tongue flicking out to taste the salt of your skin.
“Toji, we can do this at home,” you murmur, half protest, half plea, your hands fisting in his shirt as heat pools between your legs. The alley’s shadows swallow you both, the distant car long forgotten as his body pins yours against the brick wall. His cock twitches against your belly, already thickening through his pants, kisses trailing lower, teeth grazing your collarbone.
His hand slips under the hem of your dress, fingers tracing the edge of your panties before pushing them to the side. You whimper into the crook of his shoulder, your body setting ablaze under his touch. “Wait, Toji–,” you protest weakly, your hips bucking forward as his rough palm presses against your folds.
But your plea is silenced as his lips capture yours in a deep kiss, tongue plunging in to tangle with yours playfully as his fingers part your folds, one slowly dipping into the heat of your sex, curling to stroke at your most sensitive spot. “Shh, baby,” me murmurs to you between kisses, voice low as he adds a second finger, pumping you slowly and deliberately. “You’re too damn hot for me to hold back. I could fuck you anytime, anywhere. Look at you so soft and ready, dripping for me already.” His free hand grips your hip, holding you pinned against the cold brick wall as he scissors his fingers wider, stretching your hole as his thumb circles your clit, drawing out soft mews and gasps from you.
“Damn babe, your pussy’s clenchin’ around my fingers like it never wants me to stop. I own this, don't I? Every inch of you, right baby?” You nod, breathless, as he pumps his fingers deeper and faster now, the wet sounds obscene in the night air.
“You could have waited till we got to the car.” You scold him half-heartedly as he nibbles at your earlobe.
“More room out here, doll. Car’s too cramped for what I wanna do to you, wanna spread you wide and make you scream without bumpin’ your head.”
You claw at his shoulders, nails digging into his hard muscle, plump thighs trembling as an orgasm builds, hot and inevitable. He suddenly pulls his fingers free, and before you are able to catch your breath he has dropped to a squat, hands hiking your dress higher and hooking one of your legs over his broad shoulder, your bare foot dangling as he spreads you open, cool air kissing your exposed pussy before his hot breath is on it.
“T-toji–” Your words are cut off in a loud moan as his tongue flattens against your slit, lapping broad and hungry from entrance to clit. He groans into you, the vibration humming against your sensitive pussy, his hands gripping your ass to pull you in closer, burying his face between your thighs. He sucks your clit between his lips, flicking it with the tip of his tongue before diving lower and thrusting inside of you with quick pumps that mimic what his cock will do to you soon.
Your free leg trembles, toes curling against the pavement as he eats you out like a starving man. Slurping, licking, nipping at your tender inner lips until you can’t handle it anymore. The hot pressure in your gut mounts as your body arches, soft belly pressing against his forehead as he devours you. “Come for me, baby,” he growls against your folds, his tongue lapping relentlessly. You shatter like never before, crying out his name as waves of release crash over you, juices coating his face and chin as he continues to lap at your pussy until you are limp against his body.
He rises slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes gleaming dark with lust as he frees his cock from his pants. Without a word, his arms wrap around your waist, lifting you effortlessly, your weight nothing to his raw strength. You wrap your legs around him instinctively as he positions you, the broad head of his cock nudging your soaked entrance. “Hold on tight,” he says, then thrusts up, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion, stretching your walls around his girth.
Your gasp loudly, head falling back against the wall. But he doesn’t let you adjust to his size for long, bouncing you on his length with powerful snaps of his hips, each thrust slamming deep, balls slapping against your ass. The rhythm is relentless, your breasts bouncing with every impact. He yanks the top of your dress down, exposing your full breasts to the night air before his hot mouth latches on to one nipple, sucking hard, teeth grazing the peak before switching to the other.
“Fuck you feel amazing, like you were made my for my cock,” he grunts, pounding harder into you as you bounce up and down his shaft, another climax building in your core as he claims every part of you in the dim glow of the alley. Your nails scratch down his back, while his mouth trails hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw, your collarbone, anywhere he can reach while he fucks you hard against the wall. “That’s it baby, come with me,” he growls against your skin as his thrusts become erratic, the slap of skin echoing in the alley.
Your climax surges through you white-hot and overwhelming as your pussy spasms around his length in quick pulses, milking him as you cry out. He follows seconds later, burying himself fully with a guttural groan, flooding your pussy with hot spurts of his cum, filling you till it spills down your thighs while his lips pepper your face in soft, lingering presses, his breath ragged against your ear.
Slowly he eases you down, your legs unfastening from his waist to touch the ground only to buckle immediately, wobbly from the drinks and the sex. You lean against him for support, chest heaving, a satisfied haze settling over you as he steadies your hips. He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest as he bends to scoop up your discarded heels and purse from the pavement, tucking them under his arm. Before you can steady yourself fully he hooks an arm under your knees, the other around your back and lifts you with effortless strength, your plump frame cradled against his solid body.
He tilts his head down at you, a crooked smile on his lips, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Cab is free, but that extra service is gonna cost you a little extra back home,” he teases, his thumb stroking lazy circles on his thigh. A giggle bubbles up from your throat, the sound muffled against his neck and you squeeze him tighter, the joke helping chase away any lingering embarrassment from having had sex in an alley.
He walks you to his car parked down the block, shifting you carefully to open the passenger door and settle you into your seat. He leans in to buckle you up, his face close enough for another kiss which he gives, before tugging your dress back into place. “Rest up, doll. We’ve got the whole drive to plan round two.”
Trying to post all my Kinktober writing since I started late and I’m new to this and editing my own work is kicking my ass. *flings self into the abyss*
Summary: Caleb continues to punish his reluctant girlfriend for ignoring him. fem!deep space hunter
Cw: violence, mental health issues, punishment, dubcon, noncon, finger sucking, fingering, choking, dacryphilia, manipulation, unhealthy relationship, caleb generally off his rocker, obsession
Word count: 1k
a/n: A continuation, please read chapter 1 if you're confused. Listen, I like crazy caleb dont comeeee for meeee.
Caleb's gloved hand lingered between her thighs, the thick leather pressing against her slick pussy lips. He traced her folds slowly at first, feeling the heat radiating from her core, her body still quivering from the spanking, fingers circling her clit with light pressure. Her arousal coated his fingers as he plunged two digits deep inside her, thrusting roughly to stretch her walls. She gasped, her chained arms jerking as her hips bucked involuntarily, the intrusion sending jolts through her.
“That's it, I feel how wet you are for me,” he murmured, voice low and obsessive, pumping his fingers faster, curling them to hit that spot that made her whimper, tears carving paths down her face. He withdrew his hand slowly, the glove glistening with her juices, strings of slick connecting his fingers to her entrance.
He held them before her face like a trophy of her submission before bringing his fingers to her lips. “Suck them clean. Taste how much you want this. Want me,” he commanded, his voice a low, unhinged growl. His eyes were wild and feverish, pupils dilated with the thrill of finally holding power over the woman who’d haunted his every waking thought.
She shook her head weakly, tears streaking her cheeks, but he gripped her jaw with his free hand and shoved the coated fingers past her teeth, filling her mouth with the tangy flavor of her own arousal and the leather taste of his gloves. He pushed deeper, choking her with his fingers as she gagged and coughed, saliva dripping down her chin and down his wrist in a messy sheen.
Her muffled cries around his fingers only fueled his madness further. His free hand clamped around her throat, gloved palm squeezing just enough to make her vision blur at the edges. “Suck. Them. Clean,” he hissed, breath hot against her ear as he leaned in close, body pressing against her side.
She looked beautiful like this, eyes red-rimmed, mascara smudged from her tears. Vulnerable. It made his cock throb harder, straining painfully against his pants as he ground his hips forward. The friction a tease, pre-cum leaking to dampen the material.
He thrust his fingers deeper into her mouth, fucking her throat with them in short, brutal pumps. Spit and her juices mingled, slicking his glove as he watched her struggle to suck on his fingers, his heart pounding with delirious joy.
This was the rectification of years of torment. Back when they were younger she had dismissed his feelings at every turn. Rejecting his clumsy advances and adoration, his desperate pleas for attention.
Even after she had finally agreed to date him, pity or maybe a momentary lapse in her judgment, it had been endless begging on his part only for her to pull away, prioritizing her hunts over his love. The despair of it all clawed at him, a festering wound that led into madness. But now? She was chained, naked, utterly at his disposal. No more running, no more rejections. He could make her acknowledge him, worship him, and love him with every choked breath.
He pinched her jaw with his thumb, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over as she sucked reluctantly, tongue swirling around his leathered fingers under the pressure of his hold. He moaned, loud and guttural, cock twitching at the sight. “I love you so much it hurts, but you just ignore me. Yet, look at you now, swallowing what I give you.”
While she struggled to breath around his fingers he reached up with his other hand, capturing one of her hardened nipples between thumb and forefinger. He pinched it viciously, twisting the sensitive bud until she arched and sobbed louder. He released her mouth, his fingers withdrawing with a wet pop, his hand switching to her other nipple, rolling and tugging it until it swelled red under his fingers. Her body was betraying her again, pussy clenching on nothing, slick trickling down her thighs.
“This is love, real love,” he mused, his hand returning to her throat, choking her tighter for a moment until her body arched in a panic. His grin faded into something close to concern as he watched her cough and gasp, chest heaving with ragged slow breaths. The sight of her vulnerability cracked through his mania for a fleeting moment, stirring the obsessive love that lived beneath his rage. He released her throat just as spots were dancing in her vision, thumb brushing away a fresh droplet that trailed down her skin.
“Shh, my love,” he whispered, voice dropping low into a husky murmur laced with undivided devotion. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to her cheek, tongue darting out to lick the tears away in slow strokes. He savored it, tracing the salty trails with gentle laps of his tongue as if drinking in her pain to make it his own.
Her body trembled, a soft whimper escaping her lips, but he didn’t pull away. Instead his lips trailed downward, ghosting over her jawline before landing on the curve of her neck. His hands roamed her body, gloved fingers gliding over her curves with gentleness. He caressed the swell of her breasts, cupping them fully before sliding down her side, tracing the dip of her waist and the flare of her hips.
“Isn't this better?” He breathed against her neck, nuzzling closer, inhaling her scent before planting another soft kiss there. “No pushing me away. I can be gentle when you let me in.” His hands squeezed her hips possessively, lingering in that fragile bubble of tenderness for a moment longer before pulling back slowly.
“I have more tools here,” he said aloud, a wicked smile curving his lips as the softness evaporated like smoke. He stepped back, his rigid cock tenting in his pants obscenely. “Some that might make you scream in pleasure, others that just might make you scream. But it’s all for us. This will bind us together, make you love me like I love you. You’ll see.”
He glanced over at the nearby table full of his collection: a vibrating plug, nipple clamps, a flogger with weighted tips. “What should we play with next?” he mused aloud, his eyes darkening with anticipation. “I promised you a lesson, didn’t I? And lessons need…tools to really sink in.”
a/n: This is pretty tame, took me so long to post cause I had a different story planned then deleted it and rewrote it oops haha. I love puppy in love Den Heng vibes and silly trailblazer.
Dan Heng padded around the dimly lit corridors of the Astral Express, the hum of the engines a familiar lullaby to him in the quiet hours. Sleep had eluded him, shadows of his past stirred behind his eyes as they always did when the night stretched too long. He told himself he was just checking on the crew, ensuring everyone was fine during their downtime. But without fully intending to, he found himself drawn to Stelle’s quarters.
She was different from the others. Chaotic, unfiltered, maddeningly unpredictable. Yet she carried a kind of light with her. Unburdened by memory, untethered by the past. She laughed too loudly, made jokes at the worst times, and had a way of stumbling into danger with a smile on her face and a shrug. There was a quiet ache that bloomed in his chest whenever her laughter echoed through the train or her golden eyes sparkled with mischief.
Her room was the largest on the Express, a perk for the newest member who had somehow stolen everyone's heart. He paused outside her door, where soft golden light spilled into the hallway from the small gap. She was usually up late, controller in hand, legs kicked up on her desk, or curled up in a blanket watching bizarre videos that made her laugh until she couldn’t breathe.
He heard sounds. Voices? No, not quite. Soft breaths, rhythmic and hushed. Asleep? He wondered. Curiosity tugged at him and he leaned in, peering through the gap without a sound, his blue eyes narrowing in the low light.
Stelle lay sprawled on her bed, sheets tangled around her waist, her silver hair fanned out like a halo on her pillows. She was naked, fair skin flushed pink under the soft lights. One hand cupped her breast, fingers pinching and rolling her hardened nipple, while the other was between her thighs. Her legs were spread wide, knees bent, as she worked two fingers in and out of her slick pussy. Her lips were parted as she gasped softly, hips rutting up to meet her own hand.
Dan Heng froze in place, his breath catching in his throat. He should leave, turn away, go back to his own quarters before she notices him there. But his body betrayed him, rooted him in place, his cock stirring to life in his pants as he watched her.
Stelle’s fingers plunged deeper, her thumb circling her clit with urgent presses. She moaned low, a husky sound that sent Dan Heng's heart racing and heat through him. He pressed closer to the doorframe, heart pounding, unable to tear his gaze away. The way her body arched and writhed, her breasts heaving with each breath, the glistening slick coating her fingers as she fucked herself–It was an intimate moment that he had only dreamed of witnessing.
His hand twitched at his side. He was tempted to palm his growing erection, but held back, savoring the thrill of watching her chase her release instead. Her pace quickened, fingers thrusting faster, moans growing breathier. Dan Heng’s mouth went dry as he waited, transfixed, for her to shatter. He was jealous, jealous of her hand buried where he longed to be, drawing those breathy moans from her lips. He wanted to slide between her thighs, replace her fingers with his tongue, lick her folds until she screamed his name. He wanted to love her and hold her close but the thought made his cheeks burn.
Her breaths were sharp gasps now, free hand clawing at her sheets as she clenched around her fingers, fucking herself harder, thrusting in a frantic rhythm. Her golden eyes pressed shut, lips parted as her body tensed, thighs trembling like jello. And then she shattered, her back arching off the bed, waves of pleasure rolling through her as she came, juices coating her hand in a rush. She shuddered and gasped before she finally slumped back, spent and sweaty.
Dan Heng swallowed hard, cock painfully pressing against his pants, but he still couldn’t move. She was unraveling so beautifully in front of him and he could only think of worshipping her, making her feel cherished in ways no one else could.
Stelle lay there for a moment, catching her breath, before reaching for a nearby shirt and shorts, slipping them on with lazy efficiency. She sat up, running a hand through her hair, and that's when her eyes flicked to the door, widening slightly as she spotted him in the shadows.
“Dan Heng?” she said, a mix of surprise and amusement in her voice. “Didn’t peg you as a peeping tom.”
He stepped back instinctively, heat flooding his face. “Your door was open,” he muttered, as if that justified anything.
She laughed, a light teasing sound that eased his tension. “That’s what they all say,” she quipped, tilting her head playfully. Then her expression softened, concern flickering in her eyes. “Are you okay? Couldn't sleep?”
He gave a quiet nod, words failing him as his hands fidgeted at his sides. Stelle patted the edge of her bed, shifting to make room. “I’ve got games, terrible memes, and bad snacks. The perfect cure for existential dread,” she joked, her tone warm and inviting.
He didn’t move immediately, but her smile drew him in more surely than logic could. Dan Heng hesitated, adjusting his pants discreetly, tucking away the evidence of his arousal the best he could before sheepishly stepping into the room to take a seat next to her. The image of her pleasure was burned into his mind but he tried to push it aside, focusing on her laughter as she pulled up her phone to show him something.
Summary: Endeavor takes out his frustration on Hawks. Endeavor x Hawks
cw: nipple clamps, anal, rough play, using spit as lube (do not recommended) implied history, dubcon(?) he's into it I promise, a little plot
word count: 2.1k
a/n: I usually play Hawks as egotistically and a little arrogant. Making him the bottom here was a challenge and I still made him quippy in the end. I had a vision with the nipple clamps and built the story around it okay.
The flickering light from the broadcast screen painted Hawks’ office in hues of orange and red. Outside the sky was already darkening but inside Hawks was glued to the unfolding battle.
Endeavor was holding his own, for now. Flames roared across the screen, his signature attacks engulfing the monstrous Nomu in violent bursts. All around him his sidekicks scrambled to assist or evacuate civilians. Hawks sat at his desk, elbow propped on the armrest, fingers chewed to the quick.
“Come on…just finish him,” he muttered under his breath, gnawing at his thumbnail, eyes darting with every movement on the screen. He could tell Endeavor was trembling from fatigue already. Or rage. Probably both.
There was plenty of support down there, he had already made sure of that before deciding to stay back. Too many heroes in one place would create more chaos. That’s what he was telling himself anyway. But really? He was buying himself time. Time before the inevitable fallout.
He winced as he watched the Nomu tear through another building, shrugging off a wall of flame like it was mist. Hawks sat up straighter, nerves tightening. If Endeavor didn’t finish this soon…He’ll come for me.
The thought was as certain as gravity. Hawks ran a hand through his hair, tugging on a few errant strands with anxiety. It was always like this. Whenever Endeavor failed, or even when he succeeded but felt it wasn’t enough, Hawks caught the blowback. Sometimes with words (this was preferred), sometimes with a shove, or a burning. Once, a scorched wing that took days to grow back. But sometimes, it was something more.
He didn’t blame the guy. Not entirely. It was the unspoken arrangement they’d fallen into over the years. He would be his buffer. His lightning rod. A punching bag with feathers. To be used as Endeavor saw fit.
He refocused on the screen just in time to watch the Nomu leap out of range, vanishing into the wreckage of the city as Endeavor collapsed to one knee, panting, smoke rising from his back like steam off lava.
“Shit.”
Hawks stood up abruptly. The room was suddenly too hot, like Endeavor’s fire was leaking through the screen and into the air around him. There was no use running, he knew the drill. He adjusted his jacket, brushing invisible dust from his shoulders and he braced himself.
He knew no matter what happened he would be there. Again. To pick up the pieces. Again. Why? Hell, if he knew anymore. Maybe because no one else would. Maybe it was a twisted kind of love he felt for his senior.
There was a sudden sharp knock and then the door creaked open a heartbeat later without waiting for a response. And then there he was. Enji Todoroki, Endeavor, filling the doorway like a vengeful god. Flames licked at his shoulders, eyes blazing hotter than before. His costume was torn, face bloodied and smeared with soot, but his presence remained thunderous.
Hawks flinched before he could stop himself.
“Enji...” he said carefully, trying to gauge the temperature of his mood. But Endeavor ignored him, shutting the door behind him as he entered the room and locked it.
“Take it off.” Endeavor ordered, his voice low but full of weight.
It was going to be one of those sessions he realized. He knew it was better not to resist but he couldn’t help himself.
“Come on Enji, we don’t have to do this.” He pleaded, feathers rustling nervously.
“You know I like it better when you don’t talk, Keigo. Take. It. Off.”
Hawks obeyed, diligently taking off his jacket, followed by his pants and then his shirt. Leaving him in nothing but underwear. Not because he wanted to, or maybe there was a part of him that did, but because he knew better. When that tone came out of Endeavor’s mouth he knew resistance would be a waste of breath.
Endeavor paced around him. “Why didn’t you come?”
It was a loaded question, and Hawks didn’t even try to answer it before Endeavor was waving a dismissive hand. “Never mind. It would not have made a difference.”
Hawks’ brow twitched. “Hey, now,” he said with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “I’ve saved your ass a couple times, Flame King. Don’t pretend I’m dead weight.”
“You don’t matter in a real fight,” Endeavor shot back. Dismissive. A line said to hurt.
Hawks forced a laugh. “Ouch.”
Endeavor didn’t laugh. He just kept pacing, like a tiger circling its prey, until he was standing behind him. His hands landed on Hawks shoulders. Heavy. Heated. Enough to sting without scarring. Hawks didn’t move but his feathers fluttered in reflex, like they wanted to shield him.
“I had him, Hawks. I had that damn Nomu. And then the slippery bastard bolted. In front of everyone. Like I was nothing.”
“Well to be fair he was half liquified. That has to count for something.”
The pressure on his shoulders increased.
“You think this is a joke?”
“No, I think you’re spiraling again, and instead of talking to a therapist like a normal person, you lock the door and try to roast your support system alive.”
The moment stretched in silence. Suddenly, Endeavor was shoving him forward. The desk hit his hips as he stumbled, and his chest hit the polished wood hard. One of his feathers slipped out and drifted to the floor. A second later, Enji’s hand pressed the back of his head down, not cruelly, not with all his strength, but firm. Dominant.
His cheek scraped the surface, and he exhaled sharply through his nose.
“This is really mature Enji. Throw your tantrum. I get it. It’s easier for you to take it out on me than admit you’re scared.”
“You think this is about fear?”
“No, I think it’s about failure. And you hate failing more than you hate talking about your feelings. Which judging by this scene? Is saying something.”
The flames around Endeavor flared. But he didn’t answer, just stood there breathing heavily, hand still pressing Keigo into the desk as if that might stop all the thoughts in his head.
“You know I’ll take it, Enji. I always do. But that doesn’t mean it’s fair.”
The grip on his head loosened, but the fire still burned hot. And before he knew it, he was flipped over on his back, Endeavor towering over him like a storm about to break. His massive frame pinned Hawks against the sturdy desk, the wood creaking under the pressure of their bodies. He gripped Hawks’ wrists above his head with one iron hand, the other roaming possessively over the pliant hero’s torso, fingers digging into the soft of his flesh.
Endeavor leaned in, lips crashing against Hawks’ neck in a bruising kind of kiss, teeth grazing the sensitive skin before sinking in just enough to draw out a thin line of red. Hawks arched his back, a low moan escaping as Endeavor’s mouth trailed lower, nipping along his collarbone. And lower still, his tongue flicked out tracing the curve of Hawks’ chest, lapping at the sweat-slicked skin. He reached one peaked nipple, circling it with his tongue before capturing it between his teeth. He bit down, firm, unrelenting, twisting just enough to make Hawks buck against him.
Pain bloomed, sharp and fiery into something else hotter and deeper as Endeavor’s free hand pinched the other nipple, rolling it roughly between calloused fingers.
“Fuck…Enji.” Hawks whimpered, body trembling, cock straining against his underwear from the onslaught. And Endeavor didn’t let up, alternating between bites and sucks, leaving the sensitive buds swollen and throbbing. Finally satisfied with the mark he’d left, Endeavor pulled back slightly, blue eyes gleaming. He reached into one of Hawks’ desk drawers, the metallic clink echoing in the tense air as he withdrew a pair of nipple clamps. They were sleek, silver things with jagged teeth and a chain linking them. Hawks’ eyes widened. He knew what these meant.
“Hold still,” Endeavor growled, his voice a low grumble that vibrated through his core. He positioned the first clamp over the already abused left nipple, the cold material biting into the tender flesh as he released it. Hawks hissed, muscles tensing as the pressure clamped down sending jolts of agony through him. But beneath the pain pleasure had spread in his gut and his hips grinded against Endeavor’s thigh instinctively.
A predatory smile curled on Endeavor’s lips as he affixed the second clamp to the right nipple, the chain pulling taut. Hawks writhed beneath him, breaths coming in short ragged pants, but his cock leaked pre-cum, soaking through his underwear, betraying how much he craved this.
“Look at you,” Endeavor murmured, tracing a finger along the chain, giving it a light tug that made Hawks yelp and squirm. He pressed his own weight down harder, grinding his own hardening bulge against Hawks. “Taking it so well. Beg for more, Bird Boy. Tell me how it hurts…how it makes you want my cock buried in you.”
Hawks’ lips parted, voice hoarse. “Get bent.”
Endeavor released Hawks’ wrists, but only to shove the younger man's underwear down his thighs, exposing his leaking erection and the tight entrance of his ass. His legs spread instinctively, knees hooking over the desks edge as Endeavor freed his own massive cock from his pants, the thick length slapping heavy against Hawks’ thigh. He spat into his palm, slicking himself roughly before pressing the blunt head against Hawks’ hole, teasing the rim with short, insistent nudges.
“Gonna fuck this rage right into you,” Endeavor snarled, his voice hoarse with need. He gripped Hawks’ hips, nails digging into the skin, and thrust forward in one brutal motion, burying himself balls-deep into the tight heat of his ass. Hawks’ cry echoed off the office walls, muffled quickly by his own hand over his mouth, eyes squeezing shut against the burn of the stretch.
Endeavor didn’t pause, pulling back only to slam in again, setting a punishing rhythm that rocked the desk against the floor. Leaning down, he captured the chain between the nipple clamps in his teeth, the metal cool against his tongue. With each deep, animalistic thrust, his hips snapping forward, he tugged on the chain, yanking it taut.
Spikes of pain were sent through Hawks’ clamped nipples, the jagged teeth biting deeper into the swollen flesh. He bucked beneath Endeavor but the office door was just feet away and the risk of being found out made every sound a hazard. “Shh,” Endeavor growled, his thrusts growing harder, faster, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room. He bit down lightly on the metal, pulling sharper on the next drive in, forcing Hawks’ chest to arch as the clamps twisted.
The dual assault–Endeavor pounding relentlessly into his ass, combined with the relentless tugs on his nipples–pushed him toward overload. He fought to stay silent, breaths hitching in desperate gasps.
“Quiet, or I’ll make you scream loud enough for the whole agency to hear,” Endeavor taunted, thrusting deeper still, grinding against the spot inside that made Hawks’ toes curl. His hips pistoned forward with unrelenting force, slamming into Hawks over and over, the chain clenched between his teeth yanking with every brutal drive.
Endeavor felt the pressure building in his balls, the tight grip of Hawks’ ass milking him toward the edge. He growled low around the chain. “That’s it, take every fucking inch,” he rasped, the words vibrating through the metal. One final savage tug on the chain coincided with his hardest plunge yet, burying himself to the hilt as his orgasm crashed over him. Hot spurts of cum flooded Hawks’ ass, Endeavor’s release pulsing deep inside, coating his walls and overflowing with each twitch.
The sensation of warm seed filling him, and the sharp twist of the clamps, shattered Hawks’ control and his body seized, ass clenching around Endeavor’s cock as he came hard, ropes of cum shooting from his dick to splatter across his chest and the desk.
Endeavor released the chain from his mouth, the metal clinking softly against Hawks’ skin as his breathing steadied. The rage that had fueled him was ebbing away like smoke, replaced by his usual calm demeanor. He pulled out slowly, watching his cum leak from Hawks’ stretched hole, dripping down to pool on the desk beneath.
“Good work,” Endeavor murmured, his voice rough but softened, cupping Hawks’ jaw to tilt his face up. “You took it so well. Every bit of my anger, right into that tight ass of yours.” He leaned in, capturing Hawks’ lips in a deep, possessive kiss, tongue plunging in to claim his mouth. Breaking the kiss, Endeavor straightened, tucking his softening erection back into his pants and without another word strode to the door to leave, pausing only to shoot Hawks a lingering satisfied glance.
Summary: Caleb doesn't like it when his girlfriend doesn't respond to his texts and proceeds to kidnap her for some punishment.
Cw: noncon spanking, violence, jealousy, kidnapping, implied stalking, mental health issues, nsfw, if I forgot something I'm sorry
word count: 2k
a/n: This is the first part of a series that will continue on throughout my Kinktober posts. I'm not super consistent with the lore from the game in this but close-ish.
The room was silent, save for the echo of Caleb’s boots against the cold metal floor. He paced to and fro with precise, deliberate steps. Back and forth in front of his beloved, hands clasped behind him like a man about to deliver a military debrief, not watching over a restrained woman.
She wasn’t moving yet. Her head had lolled slightly to one side, strands of hair clinging to her cheek still damp from the sedative sweat. Even now, chained to a reinforced bulkhead, the faint hum of the ship in the background, she looked beautiful. Fragile. Vulnerable. Something he needed to protect.
He resumed his pacing.
Seven days. No messages. No calls. Nothing.
As if he was just a passing planet in her orbit.
And then of course there was that man.
Caleb's jaw clenched as he paused in his step. Her deep space hunter partner, hanging on to her and grinning at her like he had earned her praise. Leaning in too close when he thought no one was watching. But Caleb had been watching. He was always watching. He had to.
“She doesn’t understand the danger she’s in out there. Not just from Wanderers.” He spoke out loud turning to face her, his posture rigid and commanding. “She forgets who stood by her side when we were kids. Who took care of her when no one else would.”
She stirred now, a slow twitch of fingers, and his breath caught in his throat. He straightened his uniform coat and took a step closer to her.
“Hey…there you are.”
Her eyelids fluttered, lashes trembling like flower petals in the wind, then parted. First confusion, then recognition, then fear played across her features. Her gaze flickered from him, to the restraints around her wrists, to the restraints at her feet, then back to him.
“What the hell—Caleb?! What is this?” She rasped, her voice raw. “Where am I?”
He didn’t flinch, just tilted his head slightly like a curious scientist.
“You weren’t answering me,” he said, tone flat and emotionless. Like it was the obvious answer. “I was worried.”
“So, you kidnapped me?!”
“No,” he replied calmly, shaking his head while chuckling. “I rescued you.”
She stared at him, stunned. “Rescued me? From what?”
“From your partner.” He almost spit out that last word, the calm cracking just slightly. “From forgetting who would actually give a damn if you disappeared into a black hole. You just haven't seen it yet, but you will.”
She began to struggle, the chains clanking as she pulled back, but the wall held her fast. “This is insane! You’re insane.”
“No, I’m not insane. I’m in love. And there’s a difference.”
He crouched down slightly so they were eye-level, a softness in his gaze now, a twisted kind of tenderness. “You’ve just…forgotten how much we mean to each other. And maybe that’s my fault. But that’s okay. I am going to remind you.”
She went silent, the horror starting to settle in. He smiled at her gently, like a man offering comfort instead of a cage. He stood back up silently, the low hum of the environmental systems and the distant creak of the ship's hull under pressure echoing in the silence. He took a moment to center himself.
“I just want us to be together. As it should be. As it’s always been.” Her eyes were locked on him, wide and glistening with desperation, but he didn’t react to the weight of her stare. “You pulling away like this…. pretending like I don’t exist…like I’m just someone you can choose to forget?” He shook his head. “You just don’t understand what that does to me.”
Caleb stepped closer to her, cupping her chin in his hand and bringing his face inches from hers. “I don’t tolerate distance. Not from you. Not after everything we’ve been through.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he raised his hand to silence her with a chilling, quiet authority. A colonel commanding silence from his subordinates. He straightened back up, let his hand drop from her jaw, and walked over to a table on the far right of the room.
Then, methodically, he began unfastening the buttons of his uniform jacket and slipped it from his shoulders, folding it with military precision before setting it down on the table. “You don’t even remember the things I protected you from when we were in foster care,” he continued, rolling up his sleeves in a slow, practiced way. “What I had to do to keep the others away. The fights I got into. The punishments I took in your place. You don’t get it.”
He reached under the table, opening a narrow compartment. From within he drew a long paddle out. Thick wood with leather padding. Military grade, adapted from prisoner control protocols.
Her body stiffened, her breath shallow now. “Caleb,” her voice cracked. “Please, don’t.”
He didn’t approach her just yet. Just held the paddle loosely at his side. He looked at her as if he were seeing someone broken, someone misled by the world. Someone he had to put back together.
“I’m sorry, pipsqueak,” he said, and he meant it. His kind of sorry, the kind that didn’t stop what happened next. “But you need to remember who you belong to. I wouldn’t let anyone or anything hurt you.” He paused, a beat of silence. “Even if the danger is you.”
Her face twisted in fear, in disbelief at his words. “I’ll stop!” she cried out. “I’ll message you, I’ll respond right away, I’ll—I’ll switch partners, I swear. Please. I swear I will, Caleb. You don’t have to do this.” She shook at her chains again struggling against the cold restraints that were holding her hostage. His grip on the paddle tightened.
“I believe you mean that,” he said, voice soft again. “I believe you want to mean it. And I’m glad you said it.”
Her eyes filled with tears as he walked back to her, raising a gloved hand to brush a strand of hair from her face, almost lovingly.
“That’s progress. That’s good.” The coldness settled back into his gaze. “But your words are not enough. Not anymore.” He turned slightly, lifting the paddle with the same reverent care one might give to their prized possession.
“You have to feel it. That’s how we make it real. That’s how we learn.” His eyes fixed back on her and he gave her a reassuring smile. “This will be temporary. I promise. You’ll understand when it’s over.”
He moved with practiced precision as he disengaged the restraints one by one. First her left wrist then her right, each unlatched with a metallic click, only to be repositioned immediately as he turned her body toward the wall. Her limbs were shaking under the movement, no longer resisting, just trembling.
Her voice had dwindled into quiet sobs now, the desperate pleading giving way to a sort of defeated, hollow whimpering. It was no longer defiance anymore. It was something closer to surrender. But to Caleb, it was progress.
“There,” he murmured, almost gently, locking the final shackle around her ankle. “See? It's not hard."
She didn’t respond, at least not in words. Her forehead pressed against the cold steel wall, eyes squeezed shut, shoulders quivering under the low light. She was small like this. Fragile. Breakable. Couldn't she see how easily she could be hurt? He let the silence settle between them for a moment, then reached out, brushing his fingers across the back of her shoulder as though she might find comfort in it.
“I know this is hard, but pain has a way of clarifying things.”
“After this we will be closer than ever. You’ll see.” He smiled faintly, imagining it. The two of them at home. Her cooking, humming, smiling. Looking at him like she used to.
“I’ll take you somewhere safe,” he continued, pulling a switchblade from his pants and getting to work on freeing her from her uniform, ignoring how still her body went like a silent scream was rippling throughout her body. “We’ll have a garden. Maybe a dog. You always liked dogs, didn’t you? And we can laugh again. You’ll see.”
Goosebumps had spread out across her exposed skin and soon she was fully undressed before him. Muscular legs from years of training, full breasts heaving with each panicked breath, and her pussy exposed, lips slightly parted in the cool draft.
“Please, Caleb. I’ll do anything. Just don’t do this. I’ll be good, I will.”
“You say that now,” he replied, tone colder again. “But how do I know you mean it? Last time I gave you the space you asked for, you disappeared. And when I was watching you, watching you because someone had to, you were smiling with some bastard hunter like I didn’t even exist.”
His free hand reached out, tracing the curve of her hip possessively, feeling her shiver under his touch. The thrill of her helplessness stirred him, blood rushing southward until his cock strained against the fabric of his pants, thickening with each shaken breath she took.
Without another word, he stepped back and swung the paddle. The first strike landed across her ass cheeks with a resounding crack, the impact jolting her body forward. Red bloomed instantly on her skin, a sharp welt rising as she cried out, her legs kicking in their restraints futilely.
“Caleb! Please! I’ll be good. I’ll be good.” She begged. The paddle came down again, harder this time, targeting the underside of her cheeks where her flesh was tender. The smack echoed through the hull, her skin jiggling from the force. His breath quickened, his erection throbbing as he watched her squirm, the chains rattling with her struggles. This was a correction, yes, but also possession, marking her as his, body and soul.
“You’re mine,” he growled, delivering a third blow that overlapped the first, intensifying the burn. She yelped, tears welling in her eyes, her pussy clenching involuntarily from the pain. He paused to adjust his stance, his hard cock now fully outlined, pressing insistently at the sadistic pleasure building in his chest. “Every time you think of pulling away, remember this sting. It's me, loving you, teaching you.”
“Caleb,” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please, you’re scaring me.” He stopped, the words struck him harder than they should have. The grip on the paddle loosened slightly.
Scare her? No. That couldn’t be right. He protected her. From everything and everyone.
“You don’t mean that,” he said, his voice tight, jaw clenching. “You’re just confused. That’s your trauma talking. I’m the one who is always there for you. I’ve kept you alive. I’ve sacrificed everything. My life. My limbs.”
He continued the spanking, relentless, smack after smack, alternating sides to ensure even coverage. Her ass was turned a deep crimson with welts crisscrossing. She begged between sobs but her words only fueled him, his psychotic need to break and rebuild her devotion pushing him on. By the tenth strike her thighs trembled, slickness gathering between her legs despite, or maybe because of, the torment, her body betraying her with unwanted arousal.
Finally, he dropped the paddle with a clatter to the floor, stepping close to press his body against hers. His rigid cock ground against her sore ass, the heat of her punished skin seeping through his clothes. “See? You’re learning already,” he whispered into her ear, one hand sliding between her thighs to cup her wet pussy, fingers teasing her folds. “Now, tell me you love me. Say it, and maybe I’ll make the pain feel good.”
a.n: This is the first thing I'm posting I'm very new I don't know what I'm doing.
The office was quiet save for the scratching of a pen and the hum of the city streets beyond the rain slicked windows. It was another long night for Hiromi. He sat slouched at his desk, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened, and his brow furrowed beneath strands of his dark unkempt hair. His eyes were dry and red from reading contract over contract, he wasn’t even sure if he was doing his job right anymore.
A single desk lamp cast long shadows across his mess of legal papers, files and notepads smudged with pen ink. His eyes were burning, bleary and bloodshot, rimmed with dark half moons that had become permanent fixtures on his face. He blinked hard and forced himself to keep writing. Then there was a soft knock, barely audible, at his door and it creaked open without waiting for a response.
His assistant stepped inside, a warm cup of freshly brewed coffee in her hands, fingers curled delicately around the handle.
“Here you are sir. Though, I don’t think you should be physically ingesting any more coffee. You’re going to start bleeding coffee if you keep this up.” She let out a soft laugh but there was genuine worry in her voice at his late-night antics. He glanced up at her, dark blazer still neat, hair only slightly frayed from the long day. He felt a stab of guilt. He would need to treat her to lunch one of these days for having her stay so late all the time.
She set the coffee mug down in front of him and made a small bow before turning to leave, the scent of her perfume wafting in and mixing with the smell of coffee. He accepted the cup with a grateful grunt, the warmth seeping into his cold fingers.
“Thank you, Fumiko. You can go home; I’m going to wrap up here and leave shortly too.”
She turned back around smiling at him and gave him another bow before darting out of the room, the door shutting with a soft click behind her.
Hiromi inhaled deeply, the scent of her perfume lingering in the air, sweet vanilla mixed with brown sugar. It hit him low in the gut, stirring his cock to life. He shifted uncomfortably, his erection painfully pressing against his pants, begging for release. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to relieve himself.
His days blurred into endless spreadsheets and meetings, the rigid corporate setting sucking the energy from his soul. And the nights were brutal and blood soaked, leaving him wired on rage, not the kind of fire that leads to gasping release. No time for women, no energy to chase the warmth of his own hand.
Exhaustion assaulted him now, eyelids heavy, but his dick didn’t care about his fatigue. It pulsed with need and demanded his attention. Fumiko should have left by now, he thought, so he should be alone by now. He mulled it over for five seconds at best before his hands moved to unbutton his pants. Shoving the fabric aside he freed his erection from his boxers, thick and throbbing, the head already glistening with precum.
His thoughts turned immediately to his assistant. She was stunning. Long legs, full breasts, and a teasing smile that lingered long after she was gone. He leaned back in his chair, his cock twitching at the thought of her. He wrapped his hand around the shaft, groaning at the first stroke. Skin hot and sensitive as he squeezed tighter, pumping from base to tip. Fuck, I need this.
He pictured bending her over his desk, hiking her little skirt up and slowly sliding himself into the warmth between her thighs, tight wet walls gripping his cock in a vice, sucking him in deeper with every pump, ass cheeks slapping against his hips. His grip tightened, pumping faster as exhaustion melted away to the building heat, balls tightening with pleasure.
The vision intensified. Now she was on her knees under the desk, her lips wrapped around his cock, sucking greedily. Her tongue swirled over the head before taking him deep in her throat, gagging slightly but not stopping, eyes watering as she bobbed her head.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. His hips rocked upwards, fucking his hand like his life depended on it, gripping the edge of his desk with his free hand, knuckles going white.
More scenes flashed in his head–her riding him in the conference room chair, her pussy clenching around his cock, tits bouncing with each roll of her hips. Then he was pinning her against the copy machine, fucking her ass while she whimpered and begged for more, his balls slapping against her slick folds. His strokes were growing more frantic, breath coming in ragged gaps, the pressure building in his groin. His chair creaked beneath him as he jerked faster.
Just as he was on the edge of release a familiar scent hit him, her perfume, sweet and musky, like vanilla and brown sugar mixed with arousal. His eyes snapped open, heart pounding. There through the narrow crack in the door, her face peered in, wide-eyed and flushed. She hadn’t gone home after all. She watched him, lips parted, one hand pressed against the doorframe.
The silence stretched between them. But instead of stopping it ignited something feral in him. Knowing she could see his cock throbbing in his hand, slick and pulsing, made him even harder. He locked eyes with her, not breaking the stare as he jerked his cock faster, the wet sounds echoing in the quiet office. Her gaze dropped to his shaft, then back up, a mixture of surprise and hunger in her expression.
Hiromi wondered how many nights he had done this after he had assumed she had left for the night? How many times had she watched him masturbate to the thought of her?
The sweet burn of release hovered just out of reach now, sweat beading on his forehead as he crept closer to it.
Then, with a grunt he came hard, ropes of cum shooting from his cock, splattering across his shirt. Pulse after pulse emptied out of him, his body shuddering while he held her gaze, the thrill of her watching him prolonging the orgasm until he was panting and exposed in front of her.
He sat there after, cock softening in his lax grip, the mixture of his musky release and her perfume filling the air. Finally, breaking eye contact, his face burned with a rush of heat. What the hell had he just done? He’d jerked off in his office, his own assistant watching him.
His hand trembled slightly, sticky with his semen as he yanked a tissue from the box on his desk wiping frantically at the mess on his shirt and pants. He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t face her, not after exposing himself so completely.
The door creaked open a fraction more. “Mr.Higuruma…I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…I came back for my phone and I heard noises and…” She trailed off, her words tumbling over each other as she stammered. Her cheeks flushed as she shifted on her feet, one hand still clutching the door frame like a lifeline. Her gaze flickered downward again lingering on his pants where his cock now lay limp against his thigh.
Hiromi fumbled to tuck himself away quickly, zipping up his pants with shaking hands. He wanted to sink into a hole in the ground, apologize, or ask her to please forget what she just saw. But the words stuck in his throat as he looked at her helplessly.
She cleared her throat and forced an awkward laugh. “It’s alright. I shouldn't have watched. You were clearly having a private…moment. I need to go. Yeah. Go home. Sorry.” She glanced at his crotch one last time as if she couldn’t shake the mental image of what she had just witnessed and then turned abruptly as she rushed down the hallway, door swinging behind her with a soft thud.
He sat in the silence alone again, heart hammering. He grabbed more tissues scrubbing at the stains on his clothes, shame settling heavier along with his forgotten exhaustion. He exhaled shakily wondering how he would ever look at her the same.
