Work Text:
The van coughed twice, then died. The dashboard lights blinked once before fading to black. No clicks. No warning. Nothing.
Hux stared at the dead gauges. Swore under his breath and smacked the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. It didn’t help.
Heat pressed in from every side. Sweat gathered under his arms, soaked into the small of his back. He yanked his phone from the center console. The screen lit up, showed thirty-eight degrees Celsius and the words “No Service.”
Of course.
He shoved the door open with his foot and climbed out. The gravel crunched under his weight, hot and sharp against the soles of his shoes. The sun slammed into him like a wall. No trees. No breeze. No signs of life in either direction.
He wiped the back of his neck with his soaked crop top, the fabric clinging to his skin. It was useless, already plastered to him with sweat. He yanked it off, wrung it out once, and put it back on. His skin gleamed in the heat. The waistband of his pants stuck to his hips, heavy and damp.
He stepped away from the van, shielding his eyes. A warped sign shimmered in the distance, just visible beyond the heat haze. Maybe five, ten minutes on foot. No other buildings in sight.
He started walking.
Gravel crunched under his steps. Dust clung to his ankles. No shade. No breeze. Just heat, pulsing off the road and crawling into his lungs.
As he got closer, the faded letters came into view.
‘Solo Auto. Charming...’
The place looked abandoned at first glance. A rusted gate hung half off its hinges. One garage door leaned crooked, stuck halfway open. Flies buzzed near the frame, circling whatever rotted inside.
The building slouched behind the gate like it hadn’t seen a coat of paint in decades. Hux slowed, tugging at the hem of his crop top like he could stretch it into a real shirt as he stepped into the shade of the building.
A dull clang echoed from inside. Metal on metal. Someone was working. Underneath it, the thrum of music, heavy metal pulsed from a speaker hidden somewhere inside.
He pushed the gate open, it screeched in protest. Inside, a man crouched beside a lifted car, half-covered in oil. Shirtless. His shoulders and arms were thick with muscle and sweat, one side tattooed in black ink, gears tangled with vines. The other arm was bare, but scattered with long, pale scars.
The man didn’t look up.
“Hey,” Hux called.
No reaction.
He stepped closer, squinting into the shadows. “Excuse me?” His voice edged with annoyance.
The man finally stood.
He was tall. Built like a bear. His dark hair was pulled half-up, the top tied back loosely while the rest hung to his shoulders in damp waves. Strands clung to his neck, stuck with sweat and grease. He grabbed a water bottle off a workbench, drank half, and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. His eyes flicked to Hux once. Cold. Steady.
“You break something?”
“Yeah. My van just died, won’t start. The battery’s fucked, I think.”
The man set the bottle down. Reached for a rag and wiped his hands, slow, like he had all the time in the world.
“What kind of van?”
“White Ford. About five-ten minutes up the road.”
“Pop the hood. I’ll be there in ten.”
He didn’t wait for a reply. Just turned back to the car and kept working.
***
Fifteen minutes later, Hux sat in the shade cast by the van. The sun blazed behind it, baking the empty road, but there right at the front bumper the heat was bearable.
He’d pulled on a clean crop top, not that it helped much. Sweat soaked through the fabric and clung to his back in seconds. His hair was tied up in a messy knot. Dust stuck to his pants and shoes.
A low rumble broke the silence. He looked up. A beat-up tow truck rolled into view slowly. It stopped a few meters away and hissed as the engine cut. The door creaked open.
Same man. Same nonchalant face.
He climbed down, dropped heavily to the gravel. Slammed the door shut behind him. No nod. No greeting. No acknowledgment at all.
He walked around to the back of the truck and grabbed a heavy black tool box from the flatbed, one hand lifting it like it weighed nothing. Then he moved past Hux without a word and ducked under the hood.
Hux stood up, brushing gravel from his palms. “Good to see you too.”
No answer. Just the clink of tools.
Hux stood. Brushed dust from his pants, shifted his weight, and leaned against the van.
The man muttered something under his breath as he poked around the battery cables.
“What’s the verdict?”
“Battery’s gone. Alternator’s close behind,” the man muttered. “I can try to jump it. Might hold long enough.”
Hux crossed his arms. “Might?”
“With luck,” the man said, pulling cables and tools with practiced motions, “I’ll get it running.”
“How long?”
“If you shut up, maybe forty-five minutes.”
Hux blinked. “Wow. Charming.”
That earned him a grunt, nothing more. Solo bent under the hood again and got to work.
But forty minutes later, after sweat and swearing and the engine turning over twice without catching, the man slammed the hood shut harder than necessary.
“It’s dead,” he said flatly. “Won’t hold.”
Hux wiped his face with the hem of his shirt. “So?”
“I tow it back to the garage.”
The mechanic worked fast. Quiet. Focused. His hands moved like they had muscle memory for every bolt and cable.
Hux watched. Crossed his arms. Let his gaze trail from the flex of the man’s back under his shirt to the sweat rolling down the back of his neck.
“You do this for every guy you find stranded?”
“Only the annoying ones,” the man said without looking up.
Hux smirked. “Ooh, so I am special.”
The man glanced at him briefly, expression unreadable. He didn’t answer. Just went back to work.
“I’m Hux,” he offered, adjusting his waistband where it sat low on his hips. “You got a name?”
“You don’t need it.”
Hux rolled his eyes. “Mysterious.”
The man didn’t bite. He finished tightening a bolt, wiped his hands on a rag, and walked back to the truck.
Hux frowned. “That’s it? You’re not even gonna pretend to be nice?”
The man opened the driver’s door and looked back over his shoulder. “Get in.”
“What, no flowers first?”
No response. Just the clank of metal as the tow cables snapped taut and the van tilted back onto the ramp.
Hux exhaled through his nose and climbed into the passenger seat. The cab was hot. The leather seats stuck to his thighs. The man smelled like motor oil and heat and something heavier beneath it, like patience being tested.
The truck started with a growl. They rolled back onto the road, silence thick between them.
Couple of minutes passed. Hux shifted in his seat, legs spread a little too wide. “So what’s the plan, mystery man? Gonna hold my van hostage until I write you a check?”
“You got a check?”
“No.”
“Then shut up.”
That made Hux laugh. “You’re a dick, you know that?”
The man didn’t look at him. Just drove. Unbothered. Jaw tight.
Hux turned toward him, elbow on the window. “Seriously though. You fix it back at your garage, and I pay you… how?”
“You tell me.”
“I’ve got my card, apple pay. Venmo?”
“Cash only.”
“Well, that’s helpful. I have like 20EUR on me.”
“Tough shit.”
Hux scoffed, pushed his tongue against his teeth. “So what… you take IOUs?”
The man shifted gears, his knuckles flexed on the wheel.
“No?”
Hux leaned in slightly, voice lower now. “You gonna make me work it off?” That got him a flick of the eyes.
“I can mop floors. Or… you know. Other stuff.” Nothing. Hux tilted his head. “You ever got paid in attitude and ass before?”The man’s hand slid off the gearshift and landed on Hux’s thigh. Firm, hot and heavy.
“Careful,” he said quietly.
Hux stilled.
“I’ve had a long day,” the man added. “Keep that mouth running and I’ll find a better use for it.”
The truck rumbled beneath them.
Hux swallowed. “Maybe that’s what I want.”
The hand slid higher. A squeeze. Firmer now.
***
The fan in the corner made more noise than air. Hours later, the heat still hadn’t broken. Hux leaned against the workbench in a clean shirt, arms crossed watching the man scribbled a number onto a torn receipt and slid it across the bench.
Hux glanced at it. Blinked. “You’re kidding.”
“Battery. Alternator. Labor. Tow.” He capped the pen. “In a heatwave.”
Hux’s jaw twitched. “That’s robbery. You charge every poor idiot who breaks down in the middle of nowhere the same way?”
The man didn’t blink. “You want a receipt?”
“I want a fucking break.” Hux let out a breath, ran a hand down his face. “Jesus.”
He looked at the number again and barked a short, humorless laugh. “You really are a dick.”
Still no response, just that same emotionless stare. Like he was waiting for Hux to shut up or say something worse. The air shifted.
The man raised an eyebrow. “So… No cash?”
Hux tilted his head. “I’ve got a card.”
“I don’t take cards.”
“What now… Gonna make me wash your cars?”
A smirk curled one corner of Solo’s mouth. “You wanna work it off on your knees brat?”
The tension snapped like a live wire.
Brat. The word landed low, hot and wrong. It felt like the start of something cruel. Hux wanted that. It made him hard. He stepped closer.
“Go on. Shut me up, then.”
“I think you need something in you to do that,” Solo said. The words hit again like a slap and a drag at once. Something about how casually he said it, casually cruel.
Hux swallowed “So fucking full of yourself,” his cock twitched.
He stepped closer again, close enough to smell the sweat and grease on the man’s skin. “Is that what you want? Me quiet with your cock down my throat?” He smirked.
“Mouthy brat.” The insult rolled off his tongue like a matter of fact. His eyes flicked down, neck to abs, to the way Hux’s waistband dipped just low enough to show the sharp V of his hips. He licked his teeth like he was already thinking about biting. Hux swallowed hard, trying hide his excitement “What? All words, no act-” A hand caught the front of his pants. The air slammed out of his lungs as his hips was slammed back into the workbench behind him. He blinked up, stunned silent for the first time in hours. The man pressed close. “You don’t open that mouth, unless I say so.”
“Oh yeah?” Hux tried to scoff, but his voice caught in his throat. His heart was suddenly too loud in his ears. “And what if I don’t listen?”
The man leaned in. Breath hot on his cheek. “Then I’ll make you”, he whispered.
Something low in Hux’s stomach twisted again.
“Pick a safeword,” the man said, lifting Hux’s chin with two fingers. “Now...”
Hux smirked. “Sparkle.”
That earned him a low, rough laugh.
“Of course it is.”
Hux barely had time to blink before he was spun around and shoved forward, palms catching the edge of a metal workbench. The surface was cold against his skin. His jeans were yanked down to his knees in one rough tug, then shoved farther until he stepped out of them altogether. His bare ass was exposed to the air, thighs already trembling.
The man’s hand landed hard on the inside of one thigh.
“Wider.”
Hux spread his legs. His cock hung heavy and throbbing. He braced his elbows on the bench, back arched without needing to be told.
The man stepped closer, heat radiated off him. Big hands gripped Hux’s hips, rough palms sliding under his shirt, dragging it up and over his lower back before pushing it higher until it bunched at his shoulder.
Solo spit on his hole, wet and loud, as spread Hux open with both thumbs.
“Hold still.”
Then came the first stripe of tongue, hot and slow, dragging a line from his taint up through the center.
Hux choked on a breath. “Fuck.”
A grunt answered him, low and satisfied. The sound of spit and tongue followed, wetter, messier, circling and teasing. The man licked over his hole again, this time slower.
Then he flattened his tongue and pushed in.
Hux jolted like he’d been shocked. This movement earned him a hard slap on his ass. His fingers scrabbled at the metal shelf in front of him, nails scratching on old paint.
“Oh my god…”
Another lick. A push. The man worked his tongue in deeper, then pulled back to spit again, letting it drip between Hux’s cheeks before diving back in.
His mouth was filthy. Sloppy. His breath hot and wet as he mouthed around Hux’s hole like he was eating him alive.
Hux shook. His knees nearly gave out. Every flick and curl of tongue was like being unraveled thread by thread.
“Did I tell you to talk?” came the growl from behind him.
He bit his lip. Tried. Failed. Another swirl of tongue made his spine arch, his fingers scratch at the edge of the bench. Spit dripped down his thigh. He was being devoured like a meal. Like he was there to be tasted, teased, torn apart.
The man spat again, loud and wet. Hux moaned, hips jerking at the sheer filth of it.
Fingers followed next, one finger pushed in, then another. Slick with spit, firm and unrelenting. They pushed in fast, twisted, found that spot that made his knees buckle.
He choked out, “More, please.”
That earned him another smack across his ass.
“Don’t beg yet.”
Hux whimpered.
The fingers scissored wider. A fourth pressed in. The stretch was brutal and good. His cock leaked onto the bench.
“You ever been stretched out like this?”
Hux gasped. His mouth opened like he had a comeback or something sharp and bitchy. But all that came out was a broken breath.
“Y… yeah.” His voice cracked. “Not like this. Not… fuck.”
“Didn’t ask for comparisons. I asked if you’re a whore.”
Hux let out a choked sound. His head dropped forward. “Yes, Sir.”
Silence. Four fingers still buried in him.
The man leaned in, breath hot.
“Say that again.”
Hux’s breath caught. “Sir.”
A slow grin spread across his face. Good boy. That’s all you are now — a hole that says Sir when told.
“Yes, Sir.” He was already panting. “Please…”
The growl came low and satisfied. “Not yet.”
He shoved deeper his fingers deeper. Four forced their way in, the stretch brutal and raw. Hux cried out, not from pain but how much he needed it.
The man spit again, slick and thick. His knuckles pressed tight to Hux’s rim, spreading him around his palm, only the thumb stayed out, anchored against his ass.
“Leaking like a bitch in heat ” he muttered.
Hux’s breath hitched. His body clenched and trembled, barely able to hold himself upright.
The fingers curled, then again until they slammed right into that swollen spot inside him. Hux moaned so loud it echoed.
“There,” Sir commented darkly. “Right fucking there.” The fingers kept going with a ruthless, unrelenting rhythm. Abusing that one place inside him like it was his to ruin.
His whole body spasmed. His cock twitched and leaked but didn’t spill. His thighs quaked. Heat surged low in his gut, sharp and electric.
And then it hit.
A wave tore through him. Sharp. White. Electric. His vision blurred, his jaw dropped in a silent scream. His cock throbbed untouched. His hole clenched and pulsed around the fingers still working him, dragging more aftershocks from deep inside. It didn’t feel like release. It felt like detonation.
He sagged against the bench, dazed, shaking, drooling against the metal as the man’s fingers started to slow.
Hux made a broken sound, somewhere between a whine and a breathless sob.
Solo leaned close to his ear, fingers still moving deep inside him, slow and taunting.. “All this from getting your pussy fingered,” he muttered, low and filthy. “Didn’t even need a hand on your cock. You came like a girl.”
Another noise escaped Hux, wrecked and wordless.
Fingers slid out, slow and wet. Spit and slick clung between them. Hux’s hole clenched around nothing, needy and fluttering. He was shaking. Sweating. His cock leaked uselessly against the bench, twitching with every pulse, no release in sight. His balls ached, swollen, tight and ignored, like his body didn’t know what it was supposed to do anymore.
The sudden absence of heat made him twitch, no more breath on his skin, no fingers, no weight pressing into his back.
He blinked, dazed as he looked over his shoulder.
“Sir?”
Silence hung thick in the air.
The man stood a few steps away, slowly jerking himself, one hand wrapped around a thick cock, flushed dark at the tip, foreskin tugging with each stroke. Long and heavy-looking, the kind that looked like it’s made to ruin someone.
Hux’s mouth watered. His knees hit the concrete like instinct, crawled forward, reached up, lips already parted, but a sharp slap landed across his cheek. Hard enough to sting.
“Did I say you could touch?”
Hux froze. The man grabbed a fistful of his hair and tilted his head back.
“You want it?” Hux blinked up at him, dazed. “Say the word.”
“Sparkle.”
“Good.”
His grip in Hux’s hair tightened. “Three slaps on my thigh means stop too. Don’t forget it.”
Hux nodded, breath hitching.
“Then start with my balls. Open your mouth.”
He obeyed. The man guided his face down, heavy balls brushing his lips.
“Suck ‘em, nice and wet. Show me how eager that mouth really is.”
Hux did tongue dragging slow, lips wrapping around one, then the other. Sloppy, filthy, worshipful.
A grunt came from above, one hand still tangled in Hux’s hair. The other wrapped tight around his cock, stroking slow and steady.
“Yeah… just like that. Good girl. Keep your eyes on me.”
The thick weight of his cock smacked across Hux’s forehead.
“I said, look at me.”
Hux looked up, lips still stretched and mouth filled with the man’s balls.
“Now lick up the shaft. Slowly. Like you mean it.”
He obeyed, tongue trailing the thick, veined length, worship in every flick.
Only when the head press to his tongue, he kissed the crown. Moaned and took it deeper.
That’s when the man pushed in, slow but unrelenting. Inch by inch, past lips, tongue. Hux gagged once, then again. His eyes watered as the cock filled his mouth and throat completely.
“A well-trained cockslut, aren’t you? Now, stay like that.”
He didn’t move. Just knelt there, mouth open, eyes locked up as instructed.
Then the man’s grip on his hair tightened hard. The next thrust came brutal. Deeper faster then before. Hux gagged, sputtered, tried to pull back, but the hand in his hair kept him in place. The thick cock slammed past his tongue, into his throat. Again and again.
He whimpered, hands scrambling behind him, then forward, grabbing the man’s thighs, digging into the muscle to steady himself.
Heavy balls slapped against his chin. Spit and precum streamed from the corners of his mouth, dripping down his neck. Suddenly, the cock pulled free with a wet pop. Hux gasped, spit trailing from his lips to the tip. The hand that had been stroking now gripped his jaw, tilting his chin up sharply. A thumb pressed down on his tongue, forcing his mouth open. The man spat straight into it thick and .
“Swallow it. That’s all you’re getting for now.”
Hux obeyed, throat working around the mess.
Then the cock slammed back into his mouth, deeper and rougher than before.
The sound of it echoed wet, obscene choking filling the space with every drag and shove.
His throat burned. His jaw locked open. Tears streamed down his face and mixed up with the drool and precum dripping down his chin..
He could barely breathe, barely think. His whole world reduced to swallowing that cock.
And still he still moaned around it. Shook. Saliva pooling under him, strings of it stretching to the floor.
“Look at you,” the man muttered above him. “Gagging on it, and you’re still hard. Fucking love it, don’t you?”
Hux didn’t answer, but the low whine in his throat said enough.
The thrusts only got harder. Wilder.
He dragged Hux’s head forward against every stroke, using his mouth like a fleshlight.
Hux swore he could feel it in his stomach and still, no relief. Not even the promise of it.
He was used. Hollowed out. Left shaking on his knees like a bitch in heat.
And still desperate for more.
“You’re such a pretty fucktoy,” the man murmured, holding himself deep. “All mouth and hole, nothing in between.”
Hux gagged again, the head pressing so deep it made his eyes roll. He could hardly breathe, hardly think. His whole body buzzed, overstimulated and dripping.
When the man finally pulled out, Hux slumped forward, spit and drool trailing from his chin to the floor. He gasped like he’d surfaced from drowning, chest heaving.
A strong hand tugged him upright by his hair. He let himself be pushed back onto the bench, spine meeting the cold surface as he lay flat. His eyes stayed locked on the man above him.
“Hold your knees up. Keep ‘em open like a good slut.”
Hux obeyed. Hands curled behind his thighs, holding himself wide. Exposed.
He could see that his knees were scraped raw, not like he cared.
The man reached into the toolbox drawer, flipped it open without looking, and grabbed something. He ripped it with his teeth and rolled the condom on with one smooth, practiced stroke.
Hux didn’t even pretend not to stare. Watched the man line up his thick and slick cock.
“What was the word again?” The question came cold and sudden. Hux nodded automatically. Wrong answer. A sharp slap cracked across his thigh.
“Use your words.”
His voice was hoarse from earlier. “Sparkle.”
A low grunt answer him “Good.”
Hux gave a shaky nod, breath catching as the cock pressed to his fluttering hole.
The thrusts came hard and deep. His hole clenched around the intrusion, desperate to adjust.
Hux gasped loud and sharp. His spine arched from the bench as he was split wide all over again.
The cock dragged deep and thick. Hotter than anything else. Too much. Exactly right. He couldn’t tell the difference anymore.
The bench creaked beneath him.
“Take it.”
He did.
Skin slapped against skin. Sweat dripped down his back. His body was stretched open, filled completely. The sounds were filthy, wet, rough, shameless. A deep grunt came from above, ragged and dark, as the thrusts kept pounding into him.
“Say what you are.”
“…your slut!” he screamed as each brutal thrust slammed into his already-abused prostate. “Fuck- more!”
A large hand wrapped around his throat, firm and unyielding, pressing down just enough to make him earn every breath. And that was exactly the point.
“You like being used like this, don’t you?”
“Yes. Please. Use me” Another approving sound from above, low and primal, something between a breath and a growl, feral with hunger.
“You’re a fucking cumpdump”
“Ahhh. More! More!” he mindlessly begged, voice cracking, body trembling.
Another thrust. Deeper. A slap to his ass, sharp enough to sting.
“Good girl.”
Hux moaned so loud it echoed. “Say it again… please…”
The man’s breath hitched, hips grinding harder as sweat slid down his temple. His grip on Hux’s thighs tightened, fingers digging into skin like he needed to steady himself.
“You’re my good little princess. Nothing but a hole.”
“Yes, Sir… yes… fuck… Daddy—”
The man froze. His hips stopped mid-thrust. One hand tightened around Hux’s throat, the other dug harder into his thigh. Heat rolled off him in waves, breath heavy against Hux’s cheek.
“Say that again.” Hux blinked, barely aware of what he’d said. It had slipped out, broken and raw.
He licked spit from his lips. “Daddy… please.”
A deep groan rumbled from above him. The cock inside him twitched hard. The grip on his throat flexed.
“You’re gonna make me come just from that mouth.”
Solo flipped him fast. Hux barely caught his breath before he was bent back over the bench, legs shoved apart, ass up, face pressed down. The cock slammed in again, deeper than before.
He couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak.
“Now beg to come.”
“Please… Sir, Daddy, please, I need it, I’ll be good.”
Solo grunted, low and rough. “You’ll take everything I give you.”
“Yes. Yes, Daddy.”
Hux screamed high, desperate.
That did it.
The taller man slammed in deep and stayed there, grinding mercilessly against Hux’s swollen spot until something in him snapped. His body seized. He cried out, a raw sound ripped from his chest. His thighs shook uncontrollably, spine arched tight off the bench, every nerve lit up.
His cock pulsed. He came untouched, spilling hot and fast between his belly and the cold metal beneath. The relief hit like a break in a fever, sharp, blinding, impossible to fight. His hole clenched around the cock buried deep inside him, milking it, fluttering helplessly through the shockwaves. He gasped and sobbed through it, vision white, hips twitching, body curling in on itself as each wave dragged him under.
Solo didn’t stop. He held him open and fucked him through it, hips grinding, teeth clenched, trying not to lose it himself. His grip on Hux’s thighs turned bruising. His breath came fast and harsh, chest rising like he was running a marathon. A single word slipped out under his breath. “Fuck.”
Hux trembled, drooling, broken open. His entire body pulsed with aftershocks, leaking into the mess below. Sweat ran down his temple. His cock twitched again, oversensitive and still dribbling.
Only when Hux sagged fully did Solo pull out. His cock throbbed, flushed deep red. He tore the condom off and grabbed Hux by the hair, dragging him down to his knees. His voice was rough with strain.
“Open.”
Hux obeyed without a word. His jaw hung slack. His lips were wet. His eyes were wide and glazed.
The man stroked himself once. Twice. Then with a guttural sound, he came.
The first spurt landed straight on Hux’s tongue, thick and hot. The second hit his cheek, then the bridge of his nose. More followed, messy, forceful, painting his flushed face in uneven streaks. Hux swallowed around it, gagged once, then tried to lick what he could. A strand clung to his lips. More dripped down his chin.
He knelt there, ruined and obedient, cum sliding down his throat, the taste still thick in his mouth.
The hand stayed tight in his hair. He watched him breathe, watched him blink slowly through the mess. Solo looked down at him, hand still loose around his softening cock. Hux couldn’t speak. His arms hung limp, twitching faintly. He sat on his heels, thighs parted, the mess between them still hot, sticky, and thick enough to glue skin to skin. Solo stood over him, silent. Calm. Sweat cooling on his chest. His cock twitched once, still half-hard and slick with lube from the condom.
He looked down at Hux, who hadn’t moved. The air in the garage clung to sweat and spit.
The man exhaled through his nose. Bent down, gripped Hux beneath the arms, and pulled him up. Hux stumbled and leaned into him. They left the garage. Inside, it was cooler, quieter. They walked through the narrow hallway into the bathroom.
He sat Hux down on the toilet lid, turned on the tap, and tested the water. Grabbed a clean rag. Wet it. Wrung it out. He knelt and wiped Hux’s face, then his chest, thighs. The cloth dragged across his skin, lifting dried spit and cum. It smelled like soap and metal. One hand rested on Hux’s knee, keeping him steady. Solo reached for a glass. Filled it. Held it to Hux’s lips.
“Drink this.” Hux drank. Water spilled down his chin. He didn’t care. A protein bar appeared in front of him.“Eat.” Half unwrapped. Pressed into his mouth.
He blinked. Took a bite. His jaw ached, stomach tight, but he chewed. Solo took the wrapper and tossed it in the bin. Then lifted Hux up again. One arm braced around his waist, guiding him into a tiny bedroom.
He was lowered onto a bed. Clean sheets. Cool pillow. The weight of a blanket pulled over him. He barely felt it. His eyes shut the moment his head touched the pillow.
***
Time passed.
He didn’t know how much. The room was dark now. The smell of sex hung heavy in the air. Sweat, lube and spit. His body ached in ways he couldn’t name.
His cheek was pressed to the pillow. One leg bent up lazily, the other stretched flat. He was on his stomach, hips tilted, thighs sticky, raw. A blanket was half pushed off, bunched at his side.
Hux tried to stretch, but there was weight above him. Solid and warm. A chest ghosting over his back. A thigh between his legs. A hand resting low on his spine.
And inside him, thick heat. A cock buried deep. Slowly moving.
The drag was subtle at first. Shallow. Intentional. Like a cruel joke played on an already broken toy. He moaned, more breath than voice, but it caught in his throat when he realized what was happening.
He was already being fucked again.
The stretch burned all over again. Sharp and constant. His walls fluttered, still raw, still used. The cock pushed in deeper. Pulled back then pushed in again.
His body responded before his mind did. He whimpered, shivered, tightened around it.
The man’s voice came low at his ear.
“You didn’t think we were done?”
His breath caught. Solo was already there, slow and deep, rocking into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. No rush. No sound. Just the heavy grind of his hips pressing forward, again and again, until Hux started moaning in soft, helpless exhales. His hole clung to the intrusion, still open, still sensitive. Raw from before.
The rhythm was languid. Torturous.
“You didn’t even wake up at first,” Solo murmured behind him, teeth grazing the back of Hux’s neck.
Hux whimpered. His body jolted every time Solo bottomed out.
Then it stopped.
Solo pulled out completely.
Hux gasped at the loss. Twitched involuntarily. Trying to clench around nothing.
He pushed his hips up, confused, still thick with sleep.
A palm cracked across his ass.
“Higher.”
Hux arched, presenting like he’d been trained to. He didn’t know when he learned it. Maybe tonight. Maybe hours ago. The stretch made his thighs tremble.
Spit hit his hole. Loud. Wet. Hot.
It slid down the curve of his ass, thick and heavy, and then Solo’s tongue followed.
No warning.
Hux screamed. The sound punched out of him, raw and loud. His legs jerked, toes curling into the sheets as his whole body tensed, but strong hands slammed him back down, palms pressing hard between his shoulder blades.
“Stay still.”
He tried. His thighs shook. His elbows buckled under him. But he stayed there, arched and open, moaning like he’d begged for it.
Solo spread him wider. Two rough hands pulling him open, holding him like something on display. His tongue dragged up through the mess once, then again. Lapping. Tasting. Pushing in.
“Fuck. Oh fuck.”
Hux’s voice cracked. His hole spasmed around the tongue working into him, slick and strong, fucking him in slow, deep strokes. The pressure made his hips rock forward, but there was nowhere to go. Nothing to grind against. Nothing to touch his leaking cock.
Only the heat of that mouth devouring him from behind.
Slurping sounds filled the room. Sticky, obscene.
Solo spit on him again, then shoved his face back between his cheeks. His tongue circled the rim with maddening precision, teasing the edge, then plunging deep. Over and over.
Hux sobbed into the sheets. His cock throbbed. His body was soaked with sweat.
“You like this, don’t you,” Solo said against his skin. “You like being tongue-fucked like a whore.”
“Yes. Yes, Daddy. Please. More.”
Solo grunted. Bit the inside of his thigh, then dove back in. He fucked him with his tongue until Hux’s legs shook violently. His moans turned into screams. His whole body trembled.
His hole clenched tight around the invading tongue. Then relaxed. Then clenched again, like it was sucking him in, desperate to be filled.
“Louder,” Solo growled.
Hux let go.
He screamed into the mattress, sobbing from the overstimulation. He could feel drool on the pillow. His own precum smeared across the sheets, untouched and useless.
He didn’t care.
“Please. Please. More. Don’t stop.”
Solo didn’t.
He fucked him with his tongue until the sheets stuck to Hux’s chest with sweat. Until his legs gave out and his spine bowed, until he was barely able to keep his ass up.
And still, the tongue drove deeper.
He was a mess. Moaning, gasping, broken.
Exactly how he liked it.
“You were made for this,” Sir muttered. His voice was dark, thick with power. “This is all you’re good for.”
Hux moaned. Loud. Open. Messy.
Solo pulled his cheeks wider. Bit him once, sharp and hot, then shoved his tongue inside again, deeper this time.
The rhythm returned. Unrelenting. Precise. A wet muscle fucking him open like it belonged there. Hux shook. His knees buckled, arms collapsing beneath him. But Sir held him in place, hands iron on his hips, tongue working deeper and filthier, like he was trying to ruin him from the inside out.
Spit landed hot against his rim between thrusts. Wet. Heavy. It mixed with the slick already smeared down his crack and dripped to the backs of his thighs.
Then the tongue returned. Slid in again, deeper than fingers, deeper than cock. Obscene sounds filled the room with every lap and thrust. Sloppy. Wet. Merciless.
Hux couldn’t speak. His mouth hung open as he moaned into the sheets, face red, soaked with sweat and spit. Every stroke made his spine curl tighter, his hole pulse, his cock twitch against his stomach.
Then something shifted.
A hand slid down but it didn’t touch his cock. One knuckle pressed up against the skin just behind his sack. Right on the spot that made stars spark behind his eyes. A firm drag in slow, deliberate circles. Hux gasped. Then screamed.
It wasn’t from pain. It was too full, too much, too fast. Pressure built behind his balls like a dam giving way.
He came.
Without permission. Without warning. Without a single touch to his cock.
His body seized as the orgasm ripped through him. Thick pulses shot up his shaft, hot and sticky, splashing across the sheets and his belly in ruined streaks. His hole clenched around the tongue still driving inside him, spasming wildly, milking it like it wanted to pull more from him.
A guttural sob tore from his throat. His head lolled sideways, lips slack, drool smearing against the fabric as he tried to speak. “Sorry… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… Sir, please…” The words came cracked and quiet at first, then spilled faster. “I couldn’t stop it… I tried… please don’t stop… I’ll be good… I’m sorry…”
It was a mess of moans and begging. Slurred apologies slathered between filthy gasps as the pleasure wrung every last tremor from him. His thighs trembled, his cock kicked once more, and his hole fluttered around the tongue still buried inside him.
He was soaked in it. Cum, sweat, spit. Shame. Every part of him shaking.
It was filthy. Helpless. Embarrassing.
And exactly what he deserved.
Solo pulled back. Wiped his mouth on Hux’s trembling thigh. Then stood.
Hux stayed collapsed where he was, chest down, knees apart, gasping, his whole body twitching from the aftermath. Sweat soaked the sheets beneath him. His back arched faintly with every breath.
“You came without permission.” The voice behind him was calm. Dangerous.
Hux flinched. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t stop it… I tried.”
FA rough hand gripped his hair, pulling his head back just enough to make him look.
Their eyes met.
Then Solo shoved his face back into the pillow.
“Up. All fours.”
Hux scrambled to obey. His arms shook as he braced his elbows. Knees spread wide. His ass stayed high, exposed, skin already burning. His breath hitched as he opened his mouth to speak, but a hand grabbed the back of his neck.
Face down. Hands behind.”
He folded again, trembling, cheek to the mattress, arms tucked behind his back. His thighs were streaked with cum.
The first slap landed hard. A sharp crack that echoed through the room.
Then another.
And another.
He cried out each time. Short, high, broken sounds. But he didn’t pull away. He took it.
“You want to come like a mindless slut, you get treated like one.”
Another slap, lower. The sting bloomed into a deep, throbbing ache. His thighs trembled. His lip caught between his teeth.
Then something cool grazed his left ankle. A soft shift against overheated skin.
It felt… good. A strange kind of relief.
His breath caught, knee shifting slightly, but the sensation passed as quickly as it came.
Gone before he could name it. The heat at his back surged again as hands grabbed his waist and pulled him open. The sting, the ache, the cold—none of it mattered when Solo touched him like that.
“You want to be fucked like a toy?” Hux nodded fast. A sharp smack landed on his ass. Hux jolted. “Use your words.”
“Yes, Sir,” he gasped. “Please. Want it. Want to be used.” A hand wrapped around the back of his neck, firm.
“What’s your safe word?”
His breath shook. He swallowed hard. “Sparkle.”
Solo gave a low hum. “Good.”
He reached between Hux’s legs. Spit once, thick and heavy, and let it drip down to join the slick already smeared across his hole. Then again. Louder. Wet.
One hand reached for the lube. Cold gel pumped into his palm, smeared messily over the flushed head of his cock. He didn’t take his time. Rubbed it on, fast and rough, mixing spit and lube together until it dripped. Then he grabbed Hux’s hips.
“Stay.” His voice came sharp.
Hux whined. Shaking, ass up, thighs already trembling.
Solo lined up. Pressed the head in slow, grinding against the stretched rim. Just long enough to hear the gasp and feel the twitch of muscle beneath his hands.
Then he pushed all the way in… Raw, bare and brutal. Hux screamed. The sound was muffled by the pillow, but his body jolted hard, back arching. Solo didn’t stop. Didn’t wait. He drove in again. Then again. Faster. Harder.
The pace was punishing. Deep, merciless strokes that used Hux’s body like it was nothing more then a warm hole. Skin slapped loud, the sound obscene, echoing off the walls. Slick dripped with every thrust, leaking down Hux’s thighs and seeping into the sheet.
His knees slid from the pressure. His elbows buckled. Solo gripped harder, fingers digging into his hips to hold him up, just to keep using him.
This wasn’t slow or romantic. It wasn’t about Hux at all.
It was heat and sweat and the sharp sound of Solo’s breath as he fucked deep into a body that had already been ruined for him once. And would be again. His knees gave out. His elbows collapsed under him. He sagged forward, cheek to the sheets, breath shallow and ragged.
Solo didn’t catch him. He shoved him down. One hand planted firm beside Hux’s head, sinking deep into the mattress. The other twisted in his hair and yanked his head back, exposing his flushed face and damp neck. Then came the bite hot and sharp, right below his ear.
Hux screamed.
The sound was swallowed by the bed as Solo fucked him harder, burying himself to the hilt with every ruthless thrust. He didn’t ease up. He pressed forward instead, chest flattening against Hux’s back, skin slick with sweat.
The weight of him settled fully now. Heavy. Overpowering. Heat radiated off him in waves. Each breath from his mouth hit the back of Hux’s neck like fire.
“Pathetic,” he growled into his ear.
His hips snapped forward again. And again. Brutal. Possessive.
The bed creaked under them, old springs groaning with every punishing drive of Solo’s cock. His chest slid against Hux’s slick back with every motion, smearing sweat across both of them. Hux was drenched. Breathless. Pinned. Solo grunted, pulled out, and shoved him roughly onto his side. His grip didn’t ease. One arm hooked under Hux’s thigh, the other dragged him upright.
“On top. Show me what you’re good for.”
Hux didn’t speak. Couldn’t. He blinked slowly, head lolling.
Solo sat back against the pillows and hauled Hux into his lap like a ragdoll. Slick hands positioned him, heavy cock pressed up under his sore, dripping hole. He forced him down in one brutal motion. Raw. Deep.
Hux’s eyes flew open, lips parted in a silent cry. His whole body twitched.
Solo didn’t give him time to adjust. He thrust up again, hips jerking hard, using him like a toy.
“Ride me.”
No response.
“Ride. Me.”
He slapped his thigh. Grabbed both hips and forced him to move. Hux’s muscles twitched. He tried to obey, body rocking forward in a slow, uncoordinated motion. The hollow response of someone too far gone to think, only able to react.
Solo guided him, bounced him up and down on the thick shaft until his breath hitched again, until a broken moan slipped out … then his head dropped forward. His eyes rolled. His arms gave out. Solo caught him before he slid off completely, but only barely. Hux dropped like dead weight. Passed out. Fully limp. A puddle of sweat and skin and cum.
Solo licked his teeth. Annoyed. Flipped him over again. Flat on his back now, legs bent, pushed up toward his chest. His body offered up like a used toy, loose and slick, hole still gaping. Solo didn’t hesitate. He shoved back in with a grunt, slow only because of the angle.
The fit was still tight. Still hot. Even unconscious, Hux clenched around him. He started to fuck him again.
The air was thick. Hot. The sound of skin slapping filled the room again. The wet, obscene noise of being used.
Something faint clinked by the end of the bed. It brushed against his skin cool and heavy.
Then he stirred. His chest heaved, blinked his eyes open. His lips parted in a ragged moan.
The weight. The stretch. The pressure. He was still being fucked.
Solo’s cock was deep inside him again, deeper than before, grinding against something raw and tender. His knees were pinned up to his chest by big hands, his shoulders pressed into the mattress. He couldn’t move.
“Back with me?” the voice came low. Close.
Hux whimpered.
“Good.”
A hand moved from his leg and wrapped around his throat. Not hard enough to cut off his breath just to hold him there, keep him between consciousness and control. Pinned down like prey.
Solo didn’t slow down. He drove into him deeper, dragging every inch back before slamming in again. The wet sounds of skin on skin filled the room, along with the creak of the bed and Hux’s half-choked moans.
His eyes fluttered. His mouth moved without sound, lips forming broken shapes.
Solo leaned down. His sweat dripped onto Hux’s chest. Their bodies stuck together, breath tangled. The walls echoed.
“You’re gonna take every drop.”
Hux moaned. Loud. Wrecked.
“You’re gonna say thank you when I come in this tight, ruined hole.”
His head rolled. He nodded blindly.
“Use your words.”
“Y-yes…”
“Who owns this hole?”
“You do… Daddy…”
“That’s right.”
Hux whimpered again as the thrusts picked up, sweat dripping down both their bodies.
“You’re gonna be so full,” Solo growled. “So messy. Gonna fuck it into you until you leak.”
“Please… please breed me…”
“Louder.”
“Please… Daddy… wanna be bred…”
Solo slammed in harder. The headboard hit the wall. Hux’s eyes rolled back, voice cracked.
“Keep that hole open. Let Daddy fuck his toy.” Solo hissed. The bed shook beneath them. Every thrust punched the air from Hux’s lungs. His knees were pinned high, his back barely touching the sheets. He could only let himself being used. And he did. Moaning. Whimpering. Mind slipping further with every breath. Solo bit down on his shoulder. Growled through his teeth. The weight of his cock buried deep. Then he slammed in one final time, bottoming out deep inside.
He came hard.
The first pulse hit deep. Hot, thick spurts flooded Hux’s hole, pressure forcing a ragged moan out of both of them. Solo didn’t move. He stayed fully buried inside, cock jerking with each heavy release.
His chest pressed tight against Hux’s, sweat sticking them together. The weight of him crushed Hux into the mattress, his legs folded high, knees pinned near his ears. He couldn’t move. Could barely breathe.
Solo’s hips twitched with each pulse. He came for a long time, deep, wet, and possessive. Each contraction sent more heat into Hux’s stretched hole until it leaked around the base, slicking their skin and the sheets below.
Hux whimpered softly, blinking up through haze.
Solo didn’t speak. He stayed there, panting against Hux’s neck, arms braced on either side of his head. His cock gave one last slow throb deep inside, then stilled.
Finally, he dragged himself up and pulled out slow.
Cum followed instantly. It oozed from Hux’s used hole in thick globs.
Solo watched it drip for a second then he reached for the nightstand.
Hux blinked, dazed, eyes glassy. He hoped it was water or a towel. Something cold.… It was a plug black and thick. Solo shoved it in without warning. The sudden stretch made his body twitch, nerves already fried from the fucking. Cum spilled around the base as the plug seated deep, locking the mess inside him. His thighs trembled.
“You’re gonna keep all of it,” Solo muttered.
He sat at the edge of the bed, wiped his cock clean with his boxers. The plug shifted with every shaky breath in the body next to him.
Hux whimpered. Tried to roll. One leg slid forward. Slow. Sloppy. Mindless.
Something clinked near the foot of the bed, faint but unmistakable. Hux blinked, groggy, and looked down toward the source. It took a second for his eyes to focus. A band of metal encircled his ankle, tight and cold. It was chained to the bed frame.
Panic surged.
Before he could think, a hand fisted in his hair and yanked him backward. He fell hard into the sheets with a gasp, spine arching under the sudden force.
Next to him, Solo’s voice was calm.
“Get used to it,” smirked. “This is your new home.”