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hyunniesgirl · 6 months

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Tease

Pairing: Changbin x fem!reader

Summary: tired of months of teasing, Changbin just wants to have you and he's going to do anything to make you his.

Or, the one where you were kink shamed and can't trust sexual partners anymore, until Changbin shows up and sweeps you off your feet.

Words count: 4,281

Warnings: dom!Changbin, sub!reader, throat fucking, slaps(?), degradation, oral(f & m receiving), spit, use of pet names(bunny, baby), reader is called names(whore), unprotected sex(use protection irl), let me know if I forgot something

A/N: as usual let me say that I can't write smut to save my life, but I got this idea a few weeks ago and left it in my drafts, then I received this ask and I thought it fits so yeah that's it

This content is 18+, minors do NOT interact

The first time you had sex, was weird. You thought that maybe it was always like that, maybe you really wouldn't feel much pleasure on your first time.

Then, your second and third time came and you noticed you didn't feel the same way your friends told you they felt during sex. Even though you were attracted and even loved the people you slept with, you just didn't come, you didn't enjoy having sex.

That was, until a guy you dated slapped you, while trying to change positions. Although it was unintentional, that was the first time you ever moaned for real while having sex with another person. You two stopped for a moment, him trying to process what just happened and you coming to a realization: maybe, you were just going about sex the wrong way, maybe you didn't explore your options enough.

You began researching, reading about kinks and whatnot. You asked your boyfriend for help, you wanted to try new things and after that, sex was finally good. You finally understood what your friends were talking about when they told you about their sex lives.

However, that didn't last for long. Your boyfriend was not as nice of a guy as you thought. You found out he actually shared every bit of your kinks with his friends, calling you weird and saying he just went along with it because you were attractive enough.

He left his phone unlocked while going to the bathroom and you saw a text of his friends, making fun of you and the things you like.

It's an understatement to say you were left traumatized after that relationship. You know there's absolutely nothing wrong with what you like in bed, but to trust someone again was too hard.

You were so afraid of going through the same thing again so you just stopped dating altogether.

With that being said, you didn't stop teasing. That is the only thing you can have while still not sleeping with men, so you enjoy making them suffer. Leave them hard and hanging, that's your thrill.

They would all give up in a bit, a few weeks of teasing, without actually sleeping with them was enough for them to be done with you.

Until you met him.

You knew you wanted Changbin since the first time you laid eyes on him. He's just so attractive you think you could cum just by looking at him flexing his muscles. He's big, so big he could probably break you in half if you let him.

You don't know what is it about him. You felt attracted to other guys like him before, gym bros are not usually your type but some catch your eye once in a while. However, Changbin has something more, he's not just hot. He's funny, a great dancer and he's just so sure about his masculinity that he doesn't see it necessary to keep reiterating it all the time like other guys do.

You still decided not to sleep with him, you are part of the same friend group, so he knows everyone you do. You really don't think he's the type to brag about his feats in bed but if he ever ended up being like your ex boyfriend, you would never be able to look at your friends again.

You are not ashamed of your preferences, but at the same time it's just something so intimate you wish only you and your partner would know about it.

You thought he would give up like the others, maybe in a month he would get over it and stop trying to win you over. But you were wrong, it's been months already and you're stuck in this cat and mouse situation with no sign of him letting go.

It all started when you met the boys for the first time. Your best friend, Ryunjin, talked all the time about these guys she met at a party, how they became super close and that you'd love them.

It was Ryunjin’s birthday, so you met them at a restaurant. Your eyes scanned through all of the boys when you arrived, they were all too good looking, is it even possible for a whole friend group of seven people to all be so damn attractive?

“Wait, seven? Didn't Ryunjin say they were eight?”

You felt a hand slightly touching your back, turning around to find kind eyes staring right back at you.

“Are you going to sit, miss?” He asked.

“Y-yes”, you stuttered, trying to compose yourself.

“Why were you so late?” Ryunjin asked, you're not sure if she's speaking to you or the guy.

“Traffic was insane”, you two answered together, snapping your heads to look at each other, smiling playfully.

“I'm Changbin, by the way”, he said, pointing at the empty seat and pulling the chair for you to sit.

“I'm y/n”, you answered shyly, seeing him sitting by your side even though there were plenty of seats available closer to his friends.

As you drank a bit through the night, you caught his lingering eyes on you too many times and you're sure he caught you eyeing him up too. He made jokes, throwing his arms to the back of your chair and coming closer to you.

The amount of times you just wanted to tell him to take you home was actually crazy, no man ever made you feel that way. The warmth you felt when he got close to you was something hard to explain, you felt all your insides turning around and your pussy was throbbing just by feeling his breath hitting on your skin when he turned in your direction to speak to you.

You were able to escape that night, forcing yourself to say goodbye and walk away with all the willpower you had in you.

Things didn't stop there, though. It became usual for you to hangout with the guys. They are always so nice and cheerful, it's great being around them.

Changbin is always close to you, making jokes so he can see your beautiful smile, taking the opportunity to touch you at every chance he gets. Sometimes he'll put his hand on your lower back while walking with you, other times he'll touch your arms while talking. If you are eating together, he'll nonchalantly lick his finger and press it to the corner of your mouth to clean the mess you made on your face, like that's not the hottest shit a man can do.

He's just always there, the first one to hug you when you arrive, the one who walks you to your car or uber when the night is over. His clothes are the ones you sleep in when they invite you to a sleepover and to say you don't have wet dreams all the time, while sleeping embraced by his scent, it would be a lie.

"Why don't you just fuck him?" Ryunjin asks, while you eye fuck Changbin from the other side of the room. You're in a corner of his living room, there's music playing in the background while everyone is waiting for the food you all ordered. He's looking so good with a black tight t-shirt that outlines all his muscles and baggy sweats that do little to hide his nice ass. You're probably drooling at this point.

“You know why”, you tell her, Ryunjin knows all about your bad experiences.

“You've known him for months now, it's obvious he's not like that prick of your ex”, she says and you nod, you do know it.

“It's just hard”, you sigh. Trusting someone again over something so delicate to you is difficult.

“Yeah, I get it”, she smiles sympathetically to you. “But you know he'll reach his limit at some point, right?”

“I don't know what you're talking about”, you say, looking at her with doe eyes and an angelic smile.

“You know exactly what I'm talking about”, Ryunjin rolls her eyes, “you've been playing this teasing game for a while and he'll get sick of it at some point”

It's true that you've been enjoying yourself since you noticed his interest in you and you did what you do best, tease.

You touch him all the time, while his touches are subtle and shy, you're much more obvious about it. You play with his hair when you're sitting close to each other, a leg over his. He's so respectful, his hands never go above your knees. You shamelessly touch his biceps, squeezing them while biting on your lips, oh how you wish this man would put you in a headlock with said biceps.

Every time you touch him, he gets horny, it's a spontaneous reaction that only you could cause. It never happened to him before, he dreams about the dirty things he could do to you. You're so fragile, so beautiful, he wants to ruin you, break you so no one would ever want you, then you'd be his forever.

While you're indeed afraid he'll get sick of your antics, Changbin is sure he'll never give up. He wanted you since the first moment your eyes locked with his and he'll make you his, no matter how long it takes.

"Wait", you say too loudly as soon as WAP starts playing, "THAT'S MY JAM", you grab Ryunjin's hand, making her stand up to dance with you.

You sing along, watching some of the boys coming up to you two, dancing around and laughing at your excitement.

Turning around, you look at the kitchen, seeing Changbin leaning against the counter, watching you. He would usually join the dance, but not tonight, his eyes are fixated on you, making you feel like you two are the only people in the room.

He has only a beer in his hand, a smirk on his lips and dirty thoughts in his mind. He decides that tonight you're going to pay for all the times you left him hard just for the fun of it.

You have no idea what's in store for you, so you keep teasing him, sliding your hands down your body, rolling your hips, staring shamelessly at Changbin.

You look around for a bit, making sure no one’s looking at your little scene. It's crazy how this song just makes you feel — horny and needy for someone that will really put you in your place. You sigh, looking back at Changbin, he's still watching you, a frown on his face now. He's muttering something you obviously can't hear because of the distance but his eyes are dark like you have never seen before.

The music ends leaving you satisfied with the results. Changbin is still staring at you, or better, eyefucking you.

The food you ordered doesn't take too long to arrive, so you sit happily at the table with everyone, talking like you didn't just make him get as hard as a rock just from your dancing. He feels like he's losing his mind, you're too much for him already and he didn't even fuck you yet.

You go to the bathroom before going home, you're kinda sleepy already so you want to wash your face so you won't fall asleep in the uber.

After throwing some water on your face, you stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You're such a coward, you wish you had the courage to make a move on Changbin for real.

Sighing, you get yourself together, opening the door ready to go home and forget this whole night. You didn't expect to bump into the man you so much desire right outside, leaning on the wall with his muscular arms crossed in front of his chest.

You flinch at the look he gives you, the smile that grows on his lips is everything but friendly, so on instinct you take a step back.

“H-hey”, you say, trying to recompose yourself. “Do you want to use the bathroom?” You step outside, awkwardly, leaving room for him to go inside.

“I sent everyone home”, he takes a deep breath, walking towards you. “Now it's just you and me, I think it's time for us to talk”

“Aren't we already doing that?” You laugh, sheepishly, stepping back again only to bump in the wall.

Changbin tsks, putting his hands on your waist and pressing his body against yours.

“It's time for you to stop playing games, bunny”, he tells you, he's too close, his nose is almost touching yours. “You fucked around enough already”

You feel the air get stuck in your throat, what are you going to do now? Your mind can't think of a way to get out of this situation and you feel like if you reject him now, it's over. You don't want it to be over, you want him so badly it's crazy.

Changbin sees the opening he needs, you're considering his proposition.

“Let me make you feel good, hm? I've been wanting you for so long, let me have you”, he continues, trying to persuade you. “I promise you won't regret it”

You can feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach, you want to let him do anything to you. The problem is the consequences later, but you decide to let the y/n of the future to handle that, you just want him to fuck you senseless right now.

You take a deep breath, nodding and in a split of a second his lips are on yours, hungrily attacking your poor mouth. He's being too harsh, you know he doesn't mean to hurt you and the way you can feel how much he wants this makes you more turned on.

He slides his hands from your waist to your hips, pulling you away from the wall so he can grab your ass. He squeezes it, groaning, it's so good to finally have you. Oh, the things he wants to do to you.

Changbin taps twice on your thighs, holding you tightly so you can wrap your legs around his hips. He carries you all the way to his room without disconnecting his mouth from yours, you're not sure how you didn't have to stop yet so you could breathe.

As soon as he gets closer to his bed, he bites your lower lip. He throws you on the bed, taking his shirt off. His body is so much better than you imagined, his chest looks like it was sculpted by an artist.

He climbs on the bed, leaning over you and brushing his nose on yours, softly caressing your cheek, taking your hair out of your face.

"Why did you take so long to let me have you, hm?" He leans more, kissing your collarbone and biting your shoulder, making you flinch.

"I was scared", you whisper, closing your eyes to the sensation of his lips on your skin.

"Did you think I would hurt you?" He asks, worriedly, hands coming instantly to cup your face.

"No, I know you wouldn't", you sigh, "I just had some really bad experiences with other people and was scared”

He's relieved he was not the one you were afraid of, but at the same time he's angry, he wants to know who's the asshole who made you feel bad about yourself.

"I won't do anything you don't want to, bunny", he gives a peck on your lips, "let's go slowly, hm? I'll do a bit of everything and you can tell me if I should go further or slow down, alright?"

You nod, feeling one of his hands sliding slowly from your face to your scalp, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling it slightly.

"Should I keep going?" He asks in a whisper, already knowing your answer by the way your lips parted and your cheeks reddened.

"Yes, please", you plead, looking him in the eyes and seeing a smirk grow on his lips.

“Tell me, bunny, do you want me to be rough? Or do you want me to be soft?”

You stare at him for a bit, he's looking at you so intently, waiting for your answer. You never thought someone would ask you this question, ask how they could make you feel good.

“Rough”, you blush, avoiding his gaze. He grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks harshly.

"That's good”, he gives a peck on your pouting lips, “because you deserve a punishment for all the times I had to jerk off by myself thinking of you", he points out, pulling your hair harder and making you moan, leaving your neck exposed. He takes the opportunity, leaning closer and licking the bare skin, sucking and biting it hard. After making sure he marked you, Changbin sits.

"Undress", he tells you while he watches you, sitting comfortably on the bed. When you don't move, he scoffs. "Or should I rip your clothes apart? I don't mind", he smirks and you look down to your expensive new dress, you actually would like him to rip your clothes, but not this one.

So you shake your head, taking off your dress. You try covering yourself a bit, feeling too exposed. You're wearing only your panties since you didn't need a bra for that dress.

"You look so beautiful bare and ready for me", he says, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer to the edge of the bed.

"Sit here, bunny", he says, tapping the place by his side. "Tell me, how do you think I should punish you?"

"I- I don't know"

He frowns, smiling slightly.

"Are you sure?"

"Whatever you want", you say, feeling the warmth grow in your cheeks. "You can do anything you want."

Changbin sucks in the air between his teeth, a big smile on his face.

"I like the sound of that", he chuckles, lifting his hand to your face and squeezing it, "now before we can finally start, tell me if there's anything you don't want tonight"

You take a deep breath, looking deep into his eyes.

"There's nothing, I'll tell you if I feel uncomfortable", you say confidently.

"Hm, I like it. You're so good for me, baby", he stands up, taking off his sweats and underwear, sitting back with his legs open. He's so hard and pretty, you even salivate looking at his cock.

"Get on your knees", he commands and you do just that, feeling the hardwood scratching your skin. "Come here and open your mouth for me okay? I want you to show me how sorry you are for making me wait for so long"

You nod, lifting your shaky hands to grab the base of his cock, you're not sure how much you'll be able to fit in your mouth but the simple thought of sucking him makes your excitement drip from your cunt. Changbin puts his hands on the bed, looking at you with a condescending smile, just waiting.

You lean closer, wrapping his cock with your mouth, making him groan. You lick his shaft all the way up to his leaking head, twirling with your tongue at the top.

“Fuck”, he says, bringing one of his hands to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you down. You feel the tears brimming in your eyes, your throat is burning with the assault. “Look at you, looking so pretty gagging on my cock”

You moan, feeling your core aching, your hand slides involuntarily to your clit trying to have some release. His cock hits the back of your throat once again, making the tears run through your cheeks, you try to catch your breath but he keeps fucking your mouth violently.

“Oh my”, he smiles, “are you touching yourself? Did I say you could do that?” He asks condescendingly, “I guess whores can't help themselves”

He releases your hair, finally letting you breathe.

“So you like the pain, right? I have so many things in store for you”, he gets closer.

You're too intoxicated, eyes glossy from the tears and lips swollen. Your mascara is smudged all over your face.

“Are you okay?” He asks, taking your face into his hands once more, making you look at him, “do you want to keep going?”

You nod, frantically. “Yes, please”

He smiles satisfied, pushing you on the bed. Changbin kisses your feet, trailing softly over your legs, all the way up to your thighs. He leans over, biting the inside of your thigh, earning a whimper from you. Leaning over your pussy, he doesn't waste time, eagerly sucking on your clit and licking long stripes between your folds. Your hands automatically go to his head, pulling him closer to your core.

He inserts a finger inside you, looking up to see your beautiful face contorted in pleasure while he works with his fingers and tongue. You had forgotten how it felt to have a good fuck, how delicious the pain is. You're clenching around his fingers, so Changbin knows you're almost cumming, that's when he stops.

“What the hell?” You whine, trying to touch your clit with your hand so you can finish it yourself but he doesn't let you, grabbing your face harshly, squeezing your cheeks.

“You should take what I give you”, he says, “Open your mouth”, he commands, spitting inside, “now, swallow”

You feel all your insides turn around, you could cum just by the hold he has on you. Your pussy is throbbing so much it hurts, but it's so good.

“Binnie, please”, you whine, ready to beg for him to fuck you.

“Hm? Tell me what you want, bunny”

“Please fuck me, please, please”, you beg.

“If you ask this nicely I can't deny”, he smirks, climbing on top of you. He's huge, strong arms on each of your sides, trying not to put too much weight over you. He pulls you by your ankles, positioning himself in the middle of your legs.

You try grabbing his cock so you can put it in already, you're too desperate but he swings a slap on your ass, making you whimper to the pain, you were not expecting that.

“I told you to take what I give you, bunny”

He slides his cock up and down on your wet folds, feeling like he could die at any moment by feeling your warmth embracing his cock.

“Put it in, Binnie”, you plead again, desperate to feel him inside you.

“Fuck, babe, you're so fucking pretty”, he tells you while teasing, “but do you deserve it? You made a fool out of me all this months”

You feel your eyes brim with tears again, feeling the little bit of stimulation he's giving you by slightly touching the head of his cock to your clit.

“I'm sorry, I'm really sorry”, you sob, “it wasn't just you. I went back home every time and fucked myself thinking about you”

“Shit”, he groans, sliding his cock inside you with no warning, you scream to the sudden intrusion in your sensitive cunt but it gets stuck in your throat while you sob. “Tell me everything you want me to do, yeah?”

He's thrusting violently into you, gripping your hips into place so he can have you exactly where he wants you to be.

“I want you to fucking break me”, you tell him, “choke me, bite me, do anything, I'm yours”

Changbin slams into you even harder listening to those words, he slides his hand up, wrapping it around your throat. He tightens the grip, cutting the air off.

“My beautiful princess wants me to fuck her senseless?” You feel your orgasm closer, the sensations you're feeling all over your body makes it feel like you're in a haze, completely lost in pleasure. The knot in your stomach grows so big, it feels like it explodes, making you shake and arch your back, feeling overwhelmed by all the pleasure.

Changbin keeps going hard, feeling you clench around him just makes him get closer to his own climax. He takes his hand out of your throat, holding your hips for support.

“Do it inside”, you whisper out of breath, feeling his cock twitching inside you. He cums a few moments later, feeling your pussy sucking all of him.

He collapses on top of you, supporting himself in his arms, not wanting to weigh on you but still wanting to stay inside of you. You help him by wrapping your arms around his waist and flipping you two, now you are the one on top of him and his cock is still buried inside you.

You lay on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, not sure what to say now. You're afraid he'll judge you, even though it looked like he enjoyed the same as you, your ex boyfriend seemed to like it too. What if this was just a one time thing for him? You're not sure if you'll be able to be with other people after this night.

As if he can hear your intrusive thoughts, Changbin wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

“Should I call you my girlfriend now or should we go on a date first?”

You snap your head over at him, wide eyes and a big smile on your lips.

“I think you'll have to do much more to be able to call me your girlfriend”, you smile playfully.

“Oh? My bunny is so greedy”, he gives a peck on your lips, “I can get used to that”

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A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

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writerpetals · 7 days

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let him hear | 🔞

; optional male lead smut | ☁️

w; semi-voyeur, semi-exhibitionist, "sleeping" roommate (have two male oc's in mind for this one lol)

The moment his hand begins toying with the hem of your shirt, you know you’re in trouble. Staying the night at his dorm seemed like a good idea. After all, neither of you are like the majority of college kids that want to go out on Friday nights to party, guessing a night in with a movie is better than that any day and only wanting peace and quiet after a week of exams.

However, as you lay in his bed with him next to you and his roommate just a few feet away, his fingers dip dangerously low and you need to bite your lip to keep from whimpering.

You warn him with a simple call of his name through clenched teeth. Your head rests on his shoulder with his opposite arm snug behind you, yet the position calls for no room to move away from him. Not that you would want to any other time, but with someone else in the room making your heart race at the thought of being caught, you can hardly focus. “What about your roommate?”

“He’s drunk and asleep,” he assures you, which you can believe after watching him stumble through the door and crash on his bed without saying so much as a hello. Still, you don’t want to risk it, even if his lingering fingers make it hard to say no. “Just relax,” he tells you, lips pressing to your temple to rid you of the worries.

As soon as his hand dips between your thighs, caring seems out of the question. His fingers graze your slit, happy enough you decided to opt for a long enough t-shirt after your shower that you didn’t need panties, toying with your folds with gentle brushes of his fingertips. Instantly, you part your legs for him, not being able to help yourself when his touch pushes away every ounce of stress.

He loves the way you feel beneath his fingers, soft and delicate and it makes him groan as he takes his time exploring between your legs. Biting down on your bottom lip, you resist the urge to whimper, as well as beg him, wanting to feel those lovely, strong fingers inside of you, pleasing you, making you come.

He takes his time, easing his fingertips up and down your slit before finally pressing his middle finger to your clit. A shiver surges down your spine, warmth filling every inch of you from his touch and it renders you breathless the moment he begins circling your clit in the slowest of motions. A roll of your hips lets him know you want more, trying your best to stifle your moans even if his roommate is softly snoring next to the two of you.

“Do you like that, baby?” As if it wasn’t difficult enough keeping your noises of pleasure to a minimum, he begins teasing you further. “Let me hear how good it feels.” Two of his fingers begin to caress up and down your clit, so slow it nearly drives you mad but you’re determined not to become overwhelmed.

“B-But…”

“Let him hear, too.” A deep, raspy chuckle against your ear lets you know he doesn’t give a single fuck. If you’re being honest, it only makes you want this more. “What do you want, baby? Do you want my fingers inside of you?”

“Yes,” you exhale, before clamping down on your bottom lip again and clutching the thin sheets beneath you.

“Tell me, baby,” he instructs. “Say the words.”

By now you can feel yourself dripping down your slit and onto his bed, trembling with desire and need and he won’t give you what you want until he hears you beg for it. Even bucking your hips in an attempt to gain more pleasure and plead with your body only causes him to chuckle once again, continuing to tease with his two fingers gently caressing your clit.

“Ask for it, baby.” The words release in a groan. “Let me hear you.”

“Please,” you finally gasp, already so breathless with need, “I want your fingers inside of me.” There’s no way his roommate didn’t hear the desperation in the words if he’s awake, so you pray he’s still sound asleep once he lowers his fingers to your entrance.

In one thrust, he pushes two inside of you, already soaked and dripping and so ready for release as you gasp and tighten your thighs around his hand. Chuckling, he pulls his hand away to part your legs once again, tsking while giving your mound a light smack.

“Keep them parted, baby,” he warns, only once, but it’s enough for you to obey. A moment later he slips his hand between your thighs to ease his fingers within you once again. This time, you struggle to keep your legs parted while trembling next to him, earning pleased groans from him between kisses to your forehead.

“God,” you whimper, head rolling off his shoulder as your eyes close tight and the only thing you can do is grip his wrist, nails digging into his skin to leave marks.

“That’s it, baby,” he groans, “let me hear you.”

You can’t contain the whimpers and moans, hips rolling against his hand as he thrusts his fingers deep inside you, curling them, dragging them out, only to push them in all over again. Juices coat his flesh and sloppy sounds of him fingering you fill the small dorm room, but neither of you care about the risks of getting caught any longer. His pace quickens, earning every last moan and cry and whimper that leaves your lips and as the room spins and bliss fills every inch of your body, the thought of someone hearing is the furthest thing from your mind.

When he feels your walls contracting and your legs twitching, he presses his thumb to your clit, finally sending your body into an overwhelming overdrive. Circling the swollen bud earns louder releases of his name, telling him not to stop, telling him how close you are, and all he can whisper in your ear is how fucking wet you are and how fucking sexy it is to hear you moan.

His words only add fuel to the already flaming hot fire, ecstasy consuming every inch of your body and you don’t know how much longer you can last. His thumb presses to your clit harder, adding more pressure to have your mind growing numb and your entire body tingling until the warmth swells from between your thighs. You release a final gasp before holding a breath you’re not aware of, the first surge of pleasure coursing through you until you’re exhaling heavily and telling him you’re coming.

Which only encourages him to fuck you with his fingers harder, faster, drawing out every little breathy whimper and moan and curse and call of his name, until your body is going limp on the bed before you can push his hand away.

He kisses you, and you lay there and catch your breath, and neither of you realize his roommate had been awake the entire time, listening to you moan, listening to the naughty words, and wondering how he can leave the bed to clean himself up without either of you knowing.

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mykoreanlove · 1 year

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You're sick

The number you have dialed is not in service. Please call again later.

What the actual fuck? Jackson took another puff of his cigarette before reaching for his drink again. She blocked me? She fucking blocked me?! He took another sip of the brown liquor, not even feeling the burn in this throat anymore. The only thing he felt was anger. His eyes were glued to the screen, still unable to process what has happened. How could you block me? I’m Jackson Wang from China for fuck’s sake. He took another long sip sadly accepting the fact that even his fame couldn’t guarantee him a shot at love.

You’re sick. Those were your final words to him. He replayed you saying that hundreds of times. You had that painful look in your reddened eyes, tears straining your flushed cheeks, breath stuck in your throat as you let go of him. Jackson spit out the nastiest things as his ego was taking a blow right there. He watched you pack your stuff and leave his apartment, leaving him for good.

At least you didn’t cheat on him. He smirked devilishly thinking that this was some kind of progress since the girl before you fooled him for weeks on end. But if he was honest with himself it didn’t feel like progress at all. It felt like heartbreak, like suffering, like a never-ending loneliness that has crept into his bones. At this point in his life those feelings felt like a part of him. You were right, he thought to himself, I am sick.

Jackson poured himself another glass as he was remembering the first few weeks he shared with you. He liked the excitement of becoming yours - being glued to his phone eagerly anticipating your texts became normal, having someone to share the highs and lows of his days with felt so natural and you giving him all of your attention made him feel so important.

He adored the passion you elicited in him – staying up most nights to explore your body thrilled him, being the one fucking you brainless turned him on endlessly and cuddling you to sleep while stealing sweet kisses made him domestic.

He loved forming a true connection with you - opening up about his struggles was easy since you’ve always been so empathetic, holding you in his arms under the stars while planning the future seemed logical and falling in love was inevitable, especially for someone as love-addicted as Jackson.

This sweet feeling of love took over his whole being which made him noticeably happier. Jackson finally felt like he was appreciated for who he was as a man and not for being an artist. He didn’t even care that he had to slow down his career, so that he could spend more time with you. He didn’t care about music sales, brand deals or future career options – all he cared about was you.

Until he didn’t.

His mind got pestered with doubts, anxiety clouding his every thought. What if this was too good to be true? What if you left him in the end? What if relationships weren’t just his thing? Could he really neglect his career for you? After all, his career would never wake up and abandon him one day…

Jackson felt himself slipping into old patterns. This was no longer the confident man that you fell for but a coward that shied away from love and gave into fear. Unable to stop his inner demons, he gave into them, turning into a self-sabotaging monster once again. Better hurting you than getting hurt himself, right?

He gulped down the remains of the liquor and let out a desperate sigh. Why did I do this? Why am I so stupid? He ran his hand through his blonde hair, tugging on it as if self-harm would ease his self-inflected pain. He thought about the downfall of your relationship: Joyful calls turned into silence, sweet acts of love turned into egocentric ignorance and soulful connection turned into manipulation. This was no longer a blooming relationship; this was him having his way with you. He controlled you by giving you love if he needed it and tossed you aside if you came too close to him. Jackson often wondered how long you’d play this game with him, how much it took to break you. Turns out that fucking his dancer in front of you did the trick. Crying and arguing got replaced with your silence – this was you being done with him. This was him being left with his sickness – once again.

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sluttywoozi · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 26: Blood Play + Lee Know

For my love @hwanghyunjinenthusiast

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.2k

Pairing: Minho x Reader | Genre: smut, vampire

Warnings: blood play, minho’s a vampire, lil bit of pain kink, biting, oral f. rec., fingering, squirting, unprotected piv sex

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina

“I think I’m addicted to you,” Minho whispers as he watches you sleep beside him, the light of the moon highlighting the dips and curves of your naked body. He feels his chest tighten, knowing there can only be one of three outcomes now that he’s admitted the truth to himself.

One: he changes you, and keeps you forever.

Two: he doesn’t change you, and watches you die day by day before taking a sunshower as soon as you leave this earth.

Three: he doesn’t change you, and he leaves you so he can have some hope of living out the remainder of his damnation without wanting to take a sunshower.

He’s well aware he could never stand to carry out option three; he’d get no further than a mile before zipping back and wrapping you up in his arms. That just leaves him with options one and two, and he knows which one he desires.

He knows what you want as well - you’ve been begging him to drink from you, to turn you, for months, and he’s held strong in his refusal to do either because he knows the second he gets to taste you, it’ll be over for him. He’ll be completely and irrevocably yours.

But now… Now, he’s certain he can’t stand to be without you. Now, he’s willing to consider making you like him, even if it means tying you to him forever. Now, that’s something he wants.

Just the idea of it is stoking the only heat left in his body, stirring up an arousal that’s only ever been this strong when it comes to you.

He should let you rest, but he’s aching to be with you, to hear your voice and hold your gaze and feel the bright shine of your soul, so he grazes your cheekbone with an icy fingertip until you blink awake. Your eyebrows furrow and your lips pout, but your expression clears up when you lay eyes on him.

“Morning, Min,” you whisper, your voice thick with sleep and your hands clumsy as they reach out to him. He used to try to keep himself away from you, scared that his low body temperature would make you cold, but he’s learned you run warm and knows you revel in the chill of him.

Now, he brings you as close as he likes, one side of his mouth quirking up in a smile as he pulls you into his chest, murmuring, “Good morning, my love.”

The sun has set but you’ve long since adapted to him, sleeping in the day and waking for the night, and though he wishes he could see you awash in sunlight, you look ethereal bathed in the glow of the moon instead.

“I’ve been thinking…” He begins, his voice heavy and his words careful.

“That’s dangerous,” you quip, making him pinch your cheek in loving reproach as he continues.

“I’ve been thinking that I’m ready to make you mine, if you still want that.”

“Minho, you make me yours nearly every night.”

“I should have been more clear,” he sighs. “I’m ready to drink from you, to make you like me, if that’s still what you want.”

Your breath stalls and you’re silent for what feels like eternity, the only sound coming from you being your beating heart. He feels himself freezing, feels his limbs turning to stone as he waits for you to respond. He’d be holding his breath if he needed to breathe.

“Of course I want that, Minho. I always have.”

His face cracks into a smile, relief zipping through his body when you press a kiss to his jaw and follow it up with a light nip.

“We’ll do it tomorrow. I want one last night with you like this,” he murmurs, tilting his head back to give you more room as you kiss down his neck.

He wants one last night to explore all the ways your human body reacts to him, to bask in your warmth and smell the ambrosia of your blood, and finally, finally, finally, taste it. He wants to feel it dripping down his throat, pooling in his stomach, flowing through his veins, wants to have part of you inside him while he’s inside of you.

He doesn’t waste any more time talking, knowing he only has a few more hours to take in this form of you, searching for your lips and connecting them with his when you pull away from his neck.

Minho has never been one to rush, especially since he was remade, and he could (and will) spend all of eternity with his lips locked with yours, but already, he needs you. He needs your light and your warmth and your searing hot, perfect pussy wrapped around him.

He needs to feel your heart beating against his chest and hear your ragged breaths in his ears and, more than anything, he needs to taste you on his lips, both your arousal and your blood.

So he breaks away, dragging his lips down your throat and scraping the points of his teeth on your sensitive skin, leaving behind thin lines and welling droplets of blood. He licks over the marks, soothing the ache and groaning at the taste of you.

He was right before when he said you were ambrosia. You taste like all of the heavens concentrated into one being, like pure starlight and comforting vanilla bean and home, and he wonders why he’s been depriving himself of this through all these months with you.

Maybe because he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop once he started. He can control himself well enough to avoid killing you right now, but it’s a close thing.

He forces himself to leave your thrumming pulse behind, pulling at the sheet to uncover you and laying kisses all over your bare chest before wrapping his lips around one nipple and sucking harshly. He plucks at your other nipple with gentle fingers, rolling, twisting, pulling until both are pebbled and hard, until your back is arching and your heart is racing, until he can smell your arousal on the air.

It’s not enough for him to just smell it, he needs to taste it too. He drags himself away from your breasts, sucking kisses down the midline of your body and pushing your legs up and apart. He likes you spread out for him, likes to have room to work, and it occurs to him that for the first time, he can bite all over your thighs like he’s always wanted to.

You won’t feel the soreness of the punctures for long, and you don’t have to worry about any bruising since it’ll all disappear once he changes you, so he sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and all at once, he’s drowning in you.

He didn’t nick an artery but he’s found a juicy vein, and your blood is so much richer, somehow even tastier here. His head swims in you, your taste filling his mouth and his thoughts, and he has to remind himself of the euphoria waiting for him between your thighs lest he find all of it here.

He withdraws with a shuddering gasp, surging forward and burying himself in your cunt so he doesn’t return to the slowly bleeding wound on your thigh, his tongue delving inside of you and his hands like steel where they hold your legs. You writhe all you want, know he’s strong enough to keep you in place, to keep you stretched out like he likes, your hips bucking and your taste growing sharper on his tongue as he pushes it inside of you.

Your arousal is just as rich as your blood, but it’s different too, thicker, headier, muskier, and he honestly can’t decide which he likes more. It’s a lucky thing that he doesn’t have to, can switch between your cunt and your weeping thigh at his will, the mixture of the tastes sending him to a height he’s never reached before.

He almost feels selfish taking so much pleasure in your body when he hasn’t even made you cum yet, so he doubles down, purses his lips around your clit and sucks hard as he slides first one, then two fingers inside of you.

His impatience gets the better of him, his fingers pounding into you at a supernatural speed as he pushes you kicking and screaming toward your orgasm. Normally, he’s methodical in how he takes you apart, but tonight, he’s come undone and all he can think about is unspooling you right along with him.

Starting with making you cum, now.

You’re already close, he can tell in the way your pussy won’t stop clenching around his fingers, and he decides now is as good a time as any to try something new.

“Cum,” he thinks at you, waiting to see if you’ll hear him. Not everyone can, there needs to be a special connection, but he’s never known anything more special than you, so he’s fully expecting you to listen and behave.

You do, thank goodness, you do.

You don’t even question it, how you heard his voice in your mind, you just buck and squeeze and drip on his hand, your cunt undulating wildly around his fingers and your arousal spraying out to coat his face as he sucks and sucks and sucks at your clit.

He pushes you through one release and brings you up to another, but you seem to have other plans.

“In me, get in me, Minho!” You whine, reaching for him and tugging him closer.

“I will, baby. I always give you what you need, don’t I?” He asks rhetorically, knowing your answer will be yes. You nod anyway and he loves you for it, licks up your bleeding thigh and rises to hover above you, hesitating to press his ruby tinted lips to yours.

You close the distance, apparently not squeamish about the blood, and press your lips to his in a deep kiss. It rapidly spirals out of control, his tongue plunging into your mouth and warring with yours. He won’t concede tonight, wants to just take and take and take, and you realize this soon enough, backing off and letting him have the reigns.

Minho doesn’t know how long he kisses you for, but he knows it’ll never be long enough.

Blessedly, you’ll have the rest of time for him to kiss you senseless.

Right now, all he needs to do is pull away, line himself up, and sink inside you. The pulling away part is easier said than done, and when you whimper and curl your hand around his cheek to hold him to you, he decides that’s not a part that necessarily needs to happen.

He can align himself with you without breaking the kiss, and that’s exactly what he does. If you don’t dress, he doesn’t either, so there are no clothes in the way of him bringing his cock up to your weeping cunt and notching the head in your entrance.

You moan into his mouth as he pushes inside, the taste of it almost as delicious as the flavor of your blood and your wetness. He swallows it down as he bottoms out inside you, sending into your mind an endless stream of love you, thank you, perfect, hot wet, never enough, never get enough.

You hear him perfectly and sob in response, your inner muscles fluttering around him as he withdraws his hips and fucks into you again, building up a sharp, staccato rhythm. He can’t manage anything else at the moment, can only groan into your mouth and buck his hips again and again and again as he soars towards his own peak.

One of his hands wriggles between your legs and finds your clit as he rips his mouth from yours and sinks his teeth into your neck, his bite aimed just to the side of your jugular so he doesn’t hit your carotid artery.

Drinking from you and fucking you at the same time is a pleasure he never thought he’d get to experience, and it’s more exhilarating than he ever thought possible. He almost feels high with it, with the taste of your blood on his tongue and the incredible vice of your pussy around his cock, and when you start to cum, he knows he’s done for.

You ripple and undulate around him and all he can do is suck harder and let go, let himself fall over the edge and let his balls empty inside of you, his cock twitching and pulsing as it shoots ropes of spend onto your clenching walls.

Tomorrow, Minho will drain you dry while he’s filling you up with his cock, and then he’ll fill you up with his blood, and you’ll be just like him.

He’ll miss the old you, the human you, the you he fell in love with, but he knows there are all sorts of discoveries to be made and experiences to be had with the new you, and he has no doubt he’ll love you just the same, if not even more.

AN: omg this was so fun!!! i love writing supernatural stuff!! lmk if you liked it i need to know 👀

Kinktober Masterlist

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wormconsumer · 3 months

Text

Based off a post I saw with the idea that Robert Smirke had fourteen friends, each falling too/representing a different entity, with Smirke himself being the Extinction.

To get the obvious ones out of the way: Jonah Magnus as the Eye, Mordechai Lukas as the Lonely, Maxwell Rayner as the Dark, and George Gilbert Scott as the Buried; these ones are all canon. Not directly canon but a pretty reasonable assumption is Simon Fairchild as the Vast; we know Simon had Maxwell Rayner help him with his Awful Deep ritual in 1853, which was only a few years before Smirke died, and Smirke hung out with Rayner a ton, so it makes sense for Simon to be part of the group (though by a different name; he only started going by “Simon Fairchild” in the 1930s). Another fairly reasonable assumption, in my opinion, is John Franklin for the Hunt. Franklin is canonically a Hunt avatar in The Magnus Archives, his real-life timeline overlaps with Smirke and the rest, and Rayner was canonically interested in his expedition, which was probably because he wanted to use Franklin’s knowledge of arctic exploration for his ritual, but could also imply they knew each other, and therefore, Smirke’s gang.

For the Corruption, my first thought was John Amherst, but he only became an avatar during the Second Boer War, which was about half a century after Smirke’s time. Instead, John Snow is a better fit. He was an English physician who lived during the same time as Smirke, and he had something going on; his descendant Neil Thompson has a syringe that belonged to Snow that had Corruption properties, so Snow fits. For the Slaughter, we could go with Charles Fleming. We know he was in China from at least the beginning of the First Opium War in 1839, and Smirke and Jonah and the rest were up and active on their supernatural studies since at least the 1810s, so it’s theoretical Fleming could have hung out with them, even though he didn’t become touched by the Slaughter until he went to China. Maybe he came back later, though he was in China at least until 1862. Alternatively, William Hall, the actual captain of the Nemesis, could be an option, his lifetime overlaps pretty well with Smirke’s, though there is no evidence he interacted with the Slaughter besides his interactions with Fleming and the Nemesis. Still, he was probably a bit more high-society that Fleming, so I kind of prefer him. Finally, for the more reasonable ones, we have Joey Grimaldi for the Stranger. Grimaldi’s timeline overlaps with Smirke’s, and we know he was affected by the Stranger even before he was turned into Nikola Orsinov. The reason I’m choosing Grimaldi instead of Gregor Orsinov or Nikolai Denikin is that we know for sure he was in England while Smirke was, unlike the other two.

Now for the more out-there guesses. For the Flesh, there are a few options. One is Eustace Wick, the Lutheran priest-turned-cannibal, who did live at the same time as Smirke, but he became an avatar in 1832, died in 1845, and has no evidence that he’d even been to England, considering he’s American. The other options would be Benjamin Carlisle, Benjamin’s unnamed wife, or possibly some other relative or descendant of theirs. I find this one the more likely choice, because Jonathan Sims specifically wonders how Benjamin Carlisle’s wife was able to give her statement to the Magnus Institute, considering she starved to death in a cave on the Oregon Trail in 1845, as well as the fact that an apparent descendant of her, Toby Carlisle, is living in England by the 21st Century and has enough of a connection with the Flesh to be pretty severely affected by the failure of the Last Feast ritual. The unnamed Mrs. Carlisle being the Flesh representative does mean she presumably gave in and cannibalized her husband, and the timeline only gives her about a decade to have hung out with the rest before Smirke’s death, but I think that fits, considering what Smirke said about just coming up with theories about the Flesh in his statement.

The Spiral has similarly not a lot to go on. I would just say the Distortion, seeing as it’s an immortal manifestation of the Spiral itself. We know that Ivo Lenshik’s father was tormented by the Distortion in a human form, and apparently Lenshik’s great-uncle did too, implying that the Distortion did assume a humanoid form sometimes, before it was forced to by the failure of the Great Twisting ritual. Plus, Jonah Magnus clearly knows who the Distortion is, which yes, he could have learned at literally any point from the past two hundred years, but seeing as we’ve got nothing else, I’ll choose to believe. For the Web, the only older avatars of the Web we’re aware of would be the historical owners of the house at Hill Top Road. We don’t know who owned it during Smirke’s time; the closest we have are the unnamed blackmailer who died during the English Civil War in the mid-1600s, and Walter Fielding, who died in 1923. Walter’s son and grandson both owned the house for about thirty years before dying, so with the same amount of time applied, Walter couldn’t be our Web avatar. Honestly, the answer might just have to be “whichever Web avatar was owning the house at Hill Top Road during the first half of the 19th Century.”

For the Desolation, we have even less. Diego Molina founded the Cult of the Lightless Flame at some point prior to World War II, but we have no idea when, and it couldn’t have been that long, considering what Eugene Vanderstock says about the immortality of Desolation avatars having some kind of limit. The same is true of the End. The only known End avatar who was alive during Smirke’s time was Nathaniel Thorp, who was a Death at the time, and didn’t become human again until 1970. It’s unlikely that Deaths got breaks to socialize.

So, in summary, we know for sure about:

* Jonah Magnus — The Eye

* Mordechai Lukas — The Lonely

* Maxwell Rayner — The Dark

* George Gilbert Scott — The Buried

We can make some reasonable assumptions about:

* Simon Fairchild — The Vast

* John Franklin — The Hunt

We can make educated guesses about:

* John Snow — The Corruption

* William Hall — The Slaughter

* Joey Grimaldi — The Stranger

We can make complete guesses about:

* Mrs. Carlisle — The Flesh

* The Distortion — The Spiral

* Owner of the house at Hill Top Road — The Web

And we have nothing for:

* The Desolation

* The End

If anyone has ideas or things I missed, let me know.

#tma #tmagp #the magnus archives #magpod #robert smirke #smirke's fourteen #jonah magnus #simon fairchild #maxwell rayner

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harlowcomehome · 10 months

Text

This wasn’t the plan:

This will be a series with multiple parts. 👀

Jack sat in the backyard with Urban, watching as his niece and nephew played together. Urban was sipping on a beer and Jack sat in the chair beside him.

“There’s no greater feeling” Urban interrupted his thought process before taking another sip.

“Hmm?” Jack turned to Urban pretending he hadn’t heard.

“Being a dad! I know it sounds lame but I really don’t know what I’d do without those two” he pointed at his kids who were currently climbing all over their mother.

“Hey!” Urban's wife Alessandra giggled. “I think you mean three!”

“Of course, I meant you too!” He threw his hands up defensively earning a small laugh from his best friend who was still deep in thought.

Jack had always put his career first, meaning everything else had inevitably taken a backseat. His relationships never blossomed into much more than the occasional several-month “honeymoon phase” before things fizzled out. At first it didn’t really bother him but as everything changed around him he started worrying more and more about the timeline he had in his head.

Urban, on the other hand, grew successful with his photography business and started creating his own path. He had more time for himself, and before anyone knew it he found himself falling in love and creating a family of his own.

Jack had always wanted the white picket fence, two kids, and a dog lifestyle. He never said it out loud, maybe it was the fear of being looked at differently by his friends or just the fear that it would never actually happen.

Jack was happy for Urban, there was never any reason to be bitter. Urban supported Jack and continued to no matter what career moves he chose, Urban had never turned his back and never wavered with loyalty.

It was still shocking to see him take on two new roles. He was now a husband and a father and if you had asked Jack a few years back if he ever saw his best friend settling down he would have laughed but Alessandra was truly meant for him.

Jack enjoyed his role as “Uncle” and took it very seriously. He was present for every birthday and every holiday, seeming as how his life had finally begun to slow down.

He decided to take two years off from touring and focus on making new music and exploring other avenues, that’s what his statement to his fans said at least.

Jack wanted a family and he knew the option of knocking up a random fling wasn’t ideal. He didn’t want anyone jeopardizing what he had worked so hard for. He also didn’t trust anyone enough to share such an intimate part of life with him, a curse of the job, unfortunately.

Urban noticed Jack was deep in thought again, patting his thigh and giving him a nod. “What’s up? Why’re you being so weird?”

“I’m just thinking” Jack chewed his bottom lip nervously.

“Thought I smelled smoke” Urban joked earning a belly laugh from Jack. “Talk to me though, what’s going on?”

Jack sucked his teeth, it was rare he found it hard to explain himself to Urban. Urban had seen him go through just about everything in life. Urban had seen every raw emotion Jack possessed imaginable but he still couldn’t figure out how to say it.

“Dude, you’re scaring me” Urban pulled his patio chair closer to Jack.

Jack chuckled nervously, the lump in his throat felt like a boulder he just couldn’t fathom swallowing. He wanted to say it and it was on the tip of his tongue until his niece interrupted him.

“Uncle Jack, can you come play princess tea party now?” A very cute, mini version of Urban threw her head back in frustration as she had been waiting as patiently as she could for the last thirty minutes.

“Wait one second sweetheart, your uncle and I were talking about-“

Jack shook his head, “I can’t keep the princess waiting! I already promised and I brought cookies!” Jack grabbed the package of macaroons he had beside him and grabbed his niece's hand.

“Those aren’t cookies!” Urbans daughter giggled as Jack walked with her.

Urban wasn’t frustrated but more so concerned as he watched his best friend sit in the grass with his kids, playing “princess tea party.” He wondered what could be on Jacks mind that made him so conflicted to talk to him.

Alessandra quickly stole Jack's spot now that the kids were distracted. “What’s going on with Jackman?”

“So you noticed too?” Urban kept his eyes on Jack who was seemingly normal now that he was talking with the kids.

“He just doesn’t seem like his usual self” Alessandra admitted to noticing Jacks abnormal change in attitude.

“I don’t know what’s going on with him” Urban shrugged, “but I’ll find out soon enough.”

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow concepts #jack harlow blurb #Jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow imagines

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scarlett-vixen · 2 years

Note

Ahhh congrats on 666!!!!

For the event! Levi with “you s-s-sound beautiful moaning my n-n-name”

MC Female reader; gaming and snacks laced with aphrodisiac (by Asmo) to give these 2 the motivation to finally fuck. No Dom/Sub just exploring each others bodies and cumming like crazy

A/n: Ahhhh thanks for being the first request!!💖 I loved this idea so much!! I hope you enjoy it!

Cw: pronouns you/your, reader has vagina/breasts, aphrodisiac, two dick levi, vaginal penetration, fingering.

Word count: 2.3k

Prompt 6

It started like any other normal night with Levi, him quickly pulling out options to play, you choosing one, him kicking your ass for the next twenty minutes until you decide to switch games. While you were no match for his gaming skills you enjoyed spending alone time with him, although you wished you could experience his other skills.

There was clearly tension between the two of you anytime you were alone, be it late at night or in the library at RAD, and while the two of you had your fair share of kisses and late night dirty talking it never went any further. That all changed tonight thanks to Asmo.

You had excused yourself to the bathroom for a moment, trying to collect your nerves. You had expressed your frustration to Asmo hoping he would have a solution to your predicament, of course he had multiple.

You went with an easier option, a small bag of gummies laced with an aphrodisiac that would give you and your lover the nerve to finally go all the way. You had no issue eating a few yourself but were unsure of how Levi would respond to the idea, terrified he would be upset with you for offering but also worried that if you were the only one to take them he wouldn’t be in the mood and you’d be left high and dry.

You collected your thoughts and headed out to rejoin the third born, panic set in when you found him though. Eyes on the screen, mouth clearly chewing something and hand shoved in the bag grabbing more little gummies.

“What are you doing?” You tried not to sound panicked.

“Eating some of your gummies, I was hungry and saw this bag fall out of your jacket when you got up!”

“Levi….how many did you eat?” You tried to level your voice to not raise suspicion.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal? We share food all the time?” Levi slowed his chewing and looked rather startled. You had to choose your words carefully now.

“Listen to me, how many did you eat?” You sat down next him, your legs tucked under you. You took the bag from him noticing a good amount missing, you looked back to him still awaiting an answer.

“I….I just had like…seven—”

“SEVEN??” Your voice higher than normal.

“Wha— its not that many!! I’ll pay you back! I’m sorry! Did I screw up? Are you mad now??” Leviathan’s eyes searched you for some sort of reassurance.

“No I’m— Leviathan I….shit…” This was not how you wanted to tell him about your little secret. “I don’t care that you ate the gummies, I care because of how many you ate! They’re laced with an aphrodisiac…”

You watched the panic set in and then the blush consume Levi’s face. You explained where they came from and why you had them, this calmed Levi enough to not bolt out of the room but he was still incredibly embarrassed.

“S-so now what?” He eventually asked, avoiding eye contact. You knew what would happen, you knew it was only a matter of minutes before the aphrodisiac would take over and Leviathan would be filled with sexual desire, you knew what you had to do. You opened the bag and took five gummies out, you paused for only a second before popping them in your mouth and swallowing.

“Now we wait.” You picked your controller up and handed Levi his, he took the controller and tried to refocus on the game at hand. The two of you sat shoulder to shoulder in silence, the only sound coming from the tv before you.

Not even half an hour later you found yourself completely consumed by the thought of Leviathan touching all over your naked body. You did your best to remain in control, glancing over at Levi from the corner of your eye, the third born was in a much worse state. He sat with his thighs pressed together, gripping his controller as tight as he could, eyes glued to the screen but not paying a bit of attention as his character kept wandering off screen.

He was so cute…you just needed a small kiss, just a quick one and that was all. You leaned over just slightly, your lips brushed against his cheek and you could feel the heat radiating from them, you placed a soft kiss on his skin.

A strangled moan left Levi and you could see his thighs shake as he did, his controller dropping to his lap and both hands covering his face. He started muttering an apology as his face turned a deep red, you ran your hand across his chest and tugged on his shirt trying to get him to turn back to you.

After a few gentle pulls Levi slowly turned back to face you, he lowered his hands to speak but was consumed by your kiss instead. Your lips locked with his and you cupped his cheek with one hand, you gave a few kisses but quickly became needy. You wanted more, you needed more…you needed all of him.

You deepened your kiss, running one hand up his shirt while the other held his face still. His hands quickly found their way to your waist, pulling you into his lap so you straddled him, one lingering at your waistband and the other running up your back to pull you closer. Slowly you worked his mouth open enough to slip your tongue in, moaning softly into his mouth as your tongues danced around each other, you felt him tense at the noise.

The kisses became sloppier, the aphrodisiac kicking in fully, you started pulling at each other’s clothes desperately. You could feel the bulge in Levi’s pants getting bigger, the heat between your legs growing just as fast, you started grinding slowly against his erection. Levi’s hands stopped moving and a lewd moan ripped from his throat, the red on his face now spread down his neck, you pulled your lips from his and turned his head enough to get to his throat.

You made your way up and down both sides of his neck, licking and sucking in certain spots, leaving wet hickies in your wake. Leviathan whimpered with every kiss, his hands drifting down to your ass and squeezing at the plush skin, he switched to grab your hips and grind you further down on his now throbbing bulge. You couldn’t take it anymore, you raised your head up and pressed your forehead against his, you had to have him.

“Levi,” you whined softly, eyes flickering between his own lust filled eyes and his red swollen lips. “I want you….all of you…please!”

“A-are you sure,” his voice shaky. He gripped the bottom of your shirt and avoided your gaze the best he could. You gently removed his hands from your shirt so you could grab the bottom yourself, slowly pulling it over your head before tossing it off to the side leaving your chest on full display.

“Yes,” you took his hands and placed them on top of your bra, his thumbs making contact with the soft flesh of your breasts. “I’m sure.”

Leviathan wasted no time, quickly shedding his own shirt, tracing the edges of your bra to feel your skin lightly brush against his fingers, he reached around to undo the clasp. You had sent him plenty of nudes before but nothing compared to seeing you in person.

Levi quickly latched on to one of your nipples while his fingers teased the other, every moan you released only encouraged him to continue, your hands in his hair as he sucked and licked at your sensitive bud felt euphoric. He did his best to gently lay you in your back while still latched on to you, you felt his free hand slide down your side, quickly pulling off your bottoms.

Your legs squeezed shut involuntarily, desperately seeking some type of attention to your overly aroused cunt. The third born released your tit from his mouth and sat back to look at you, your face flushed and eyes filled with lust, arms stretched above your head, chest exposed and nothing but sheer panties separating him from your pussy.

Levi sat back on his heels, the wet spot on your underwear driving him wild, he palmed himself through his sweatpants that still concealed his now massive bulge.

“Fuck,” his hips bucked against his hand wanting more friction. You spread your legs a little wider to give him a full view, a wicked grin on your face, practically begging for him to fuck you already. You knew he was nervous, filled with doubt and not believing that you would actually enjoy this, so you gave a few soft moans to encourage him to remove those stupid pants.

Leviathan hooked a thumb under his waistband, pulling his pants down just enough to expose his happy trial, you gave another encouraging moan while rubbing your thighs together to push him further. The red that consumed his face and neck now spread down to his chest, he turned away just a little but watched you from his peripheral, Leviathan slowly pulled his pants down until both his cocks were free.

“Fuuuuck” you moaned on instinct. Levi had told you about his not so little secret a few months back, after much encouragement he had finally started sending dick pics, but very rarely of both in the same shot. Nothing prepared you for seeing them in person, both fully erect, red and throbbing, precum leaking quickly from both. You watched as precum from the first cock dripped down onto the second, you could feel yourself throbbing just from watching him.

The third born discarded his pants completely before pulling off your panties. You watched his cocks twitch as soon as your pussy was exposed, you were already so wet he could’ve slid in without any prep at all. Levi slowly stroked one of his cocks while taking in your naked body on full display for him finally, you wanted to tease him for living out one of his pervy little fantasies but your mind was so fogged over with lust all you could do was moan and wiggle your hips.

He gathered a good amount of precum on his hand before reaching down to tease your clit, the sudden friction making you gasp and your entire body twitch, he ran two fingers along your folds slowly before sliding them in to rub against your walls. The moans and whines escaping you mixed with Leviathan’s own, his other hand switching between his cocks and occasionally reaching down to his balls, you were quickly growing jealous. He should be fucking into you, not his own hand.

“Baby pleeeease,” you whined as his fingers pulled out of you finally. “want you to fuck me!”

“O-okay,” Levi positioned himself between your legs, taking one of his cocks in hand and lightly rubbing it against your folds. You could feel him throb against your clit, the sensation running straight to your core and causing you to mewl loudly for more. Leviathan slowly pushed his tip in, taking his time to sink all the way in until your hips connected. “FU~UCK!”

He gave you time to adjust to his size before starting to thrust in and out, with each drag of his cock your eyes rolled back. Levi stroked his other cock with one hand while using your hip to pull you further onto the one filling you. Leviathan watched you close your eyes in bliss and got an idea, he let go of his cock so it could rut against your clit as he continued to fuck into you.

The friction of his one cock rubbing continuously against your swollen clit along with the throbbing cock inside you hitting your sweet spot made your head spin, you started grabbing at the air trying to find his shoulders to pull him closer. He got the message and dropped lower, propped up on his elbows as he quickened his pace, your arms wrapped around his neck.

“Shit! LEVIATHAN FUCK! Yes baby! Right there Levi! Oh fuck baby yes!” Your praise filling his ears as he rammed into you even faster. Precum from his one cock coating your stomach and giving him the ability to thrust harder. You chanted his name as you came around his cock, every cry of it sounded angelic to him.

“Y-you sound s-so beautiful moaning m-my n-name,” Leviathan pressed his lips against yours. He hated to cut off your moans but he needed to taste you again, his mind growing fuzzy as his own orgasm quickly approached. “Shit, gonna…..haaaa…gonna cum.”

Seconds after his warning Levi pulled out quick and released a deep moan as you reached down to milk both his cocks through the climax. Your hands, stomach and thighs coated in his cum, you brought one hand up to your mouth and gave it a slow lick, Levi shuttered while watching you.

The aphrodisiac was still going strong even post orgasm, you were both breathless but still incredibly horny. Leviathan lowered himself to lay beside you, you turned over to hook one leg around his waist giving him better access to your pussy again. The two of you began to lazily make out, hands roaming each other’s bodies as gentle moans and whimpers filled the room. Levi began to tease your clit once more and slid his fingers deep inside your folds while you started stroking both his cocks. You began slowly grinding against each other waiting to catch your breath for round two.

After tonight you’d no longer need the gummies to get things started, but you’d be sure to thank Asmo for his help. That is, if he couldn’t already hear you.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me smut #obey me leviathan smut #obey me leviathan #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me levi smut #spicy ✨#kats 666 event

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melminli · 5 months

Text

nsfw drabble

thinkin about pathetic virgin coryo.

he has no experience whatsoever, and i mean, how could he? coriolanus had no time to explore his sexual desires when he was busy trying to clear the snow name. well, that is until the puberty train finally hits him like any other boy at this age, giving him no other option but to familiarize himself with certain activities and also becoming more aware of your presence, his sweet little childhood friend.

it starts with little things. first, he started to notice what a sweet smell you gave off. it didn't help that you were both sitting next to each other, so he was constantly confronted with it, made him feel all fuzzy on the inside.

coriolanus tried to convince himself at first that it wasn't in a weird way. even when you seemed to have forgotten your soft pink scarf on your seat one day, he told himself that he only had good intentions when he took it home with him to give it back to you the next day. you know, so that no one could steal it.

of course, he was only lying to himself. he didn't want to seem like a fucking pervert who got excited just by the sweet smell of a girl. yet here he was sitting on his bed, your pink scarf looking out of place in his rough hands, and still he couldn't let go of it as he pressed it firmly to his nose.

his dick chubbed up in his pants the moment he stepped into his room. finally alone and in private with his dirty thoughts and the excitement of what would follow. "fuck..." he moaned roughly into the soft fabric as his erection had been pressing uncomfortably against the fabric of his pants for a few minutes now. he was excited, too excited, which was why he slowly began to unbutton his pants so that he could pull them down enough, along with the skirt, to comfortably reach his hand into his boxers.

"hah..why do you have to smell so fucking sweet..." he complained, as if his horniness was your fault. his hand finally touched his hard cock and it layed heavy and hot inside it. coriolanus couldn't help but hiss softly at the contact. his thumb gently rubbed the tip, and he exhaled broken breaths at the feeling. he was already dripping enough pre cum for him to jerk off easily so he finally did with a firm grip as he closed his eyes and pressed the scarf tighter to his nose. imagining that you were here with him, that it was you who made him feel so good, with your touch probably as soft as the fabric against his skin.

"fuck...feels good. gonna cum soon..." he whispered out at his imagination. all it took was your scent and he orgasmed faster than he already did. he really was a pathetic virgin through and through.

he moaned one last time against the pink scarf, which he pressed firmly against his face to muffle his sounds. "fuck, fuck...ahh..."

the next day, when you complained about how you couldn't found your scarf this morning, he assured you with a smile that it would surely turn up from somewhere.

#coryo smut #young coriolanus snow #x reader #coriolanus snow #tbosas #coryo snow #coriolanus smut #coriolanus #snow lands on top #smut drabble #drabble #coriolanus x you #young coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader smut

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thecuriousquest · 7 months

Note

Yandere Levi x enemy reader please 🥺

Reader was a marleyan soldier who got captured by them. She is being held captive in a cell and Levi is interrogating her. But she is being a brat and refuses to cooperate with him. NSFW please.

The Proud Marleyan Soldier

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, minor violence, bleeding, spanking punishment, spanked with a sword, slapping, hair pulling, first orgasm experience, inexperienced reader, vaginal sex, asshole fingering, dub con, kidnapping, prisoner of war

Master List here.

—————————————————————————

You’re not sure how you ended up here, but the throbbing pain on the crown of your head must have something to do with it. Your wrists are spread in a Y, hooked to the ceiling by chains.

You calm the panic rising in your chest with deep breaths. Panicking won’t do you any good. If you break, if you show them even an ounce of anything but defiance, you know nothing good will come of it for the Marleyans.

No, staying calm is your only option at the moment. Still, you can’t help groaning as you try to relieve your shoulders of their stiff ache. You must have been like this for hours.

The sound of footsteps nears you, growing closer until a figure emerges from the shadows. You look into his dead, gray eyes. Now, that’s a person who has seen some shit.

You know that look all too well from this fucking war.

You watch him intently as he unlocks your cell door. Opening it and closing it behind him.

“Hmmm, finally awake. It was rather easy to capture you. One hit to the head took you down all too quickly.”

You bite your lower lip, worrying it between your teeth.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“We want information on the deployment of your soldiers. Names and locations, where they’re going to attack from.”

You stick your chin out as you dangle like a fish from the ceiling. “Like I’d tell you Wall Rose bastards anything.”

“So, you do know about us? Well, I’m flattered, but let me make something clear. You’re not leaving until you give us something, and I know you’re one of the few who knows a lot more than you let on.”

He tangles up a fist in your greasy H/C strands, pulling roughly on your tresses, forcing your head down so that he can whisper in your ear.

“I have a few different methods I can try out on you and a lot of time on my hands.”

It might be a lie, but you can’t be sure. You aren’t even aware of what day it is. One of the bigger attacks was planned to take action in two weeks on the night you went unconscious, but you aren’t sure how many hours, if not days, have passed since then.

“Go on then and do your worst, Wall Rose bitch.” You spit in his face for good measure.

Levi, thoroughly disgusted by your lack of decorum, backhands you across the face. You feel blood bubbling up in your mouth from the impact of his knuckles.

With his sword, he starts tearing your clothes off, watching them drop to the floor as he leaves minor cuts on your skin with the tip of his blade.

“Fucking pervert!” you scream at him and press your legs together to preserve some form of modesty. “You’d undress a woman like this?!”

“My name’s Captain Levi Ackerman, and if I hear anything out of your mouth other than “yes, sir” or “no, sir”, then you can expect pain.”

He rounds your body, trailing the blade in between your legs, prying them apart slowly. The sharp edge kisses your slit in a threatening manner, and you stifle a whimper as you feel a cut on your most sensitive area.

“Let’s start with simple questions. We already know your side is planning an attack. Is it a small scale attack?”

You grit your teeth. “Go to hell!”

Levi chuckles and feels the freshly made cut on your puss, causing you to sharply inhale as his fingers explore the region. You squeeze your eyes shut, pulling on your taut chains.

“No, stop it!”

You try to kick him, step on his foot, anything! He spanks you with the flat of his sword as a warning, and holy fucking hell does it hurt! You stomp your foot, feeling another hit right below the last one.

Shaking your head, you dance on your feet, trying to avoid each searing strike. He stops at five and allows you to breathe.

“Ready to answer my question?”

You look at him with utter bewilderment and disdain. “No, it’s not a small scale attack, dipshit.”

He lands a strike to the outside of your thigh with the same flat side of his sword, and it makes you rock on your toes with the heat of the smack.

“You’ll call me ‘sir’ or-“

“Or I can expect pain…” you finish for him with a disgruntled voice.

“So, you are listening. That’s good at least. Why don’t we try the question again until you get it right? Is the attack small scale?”

He taps his sword against your skin, warning you what will happen if you don’t comply.

“No…it’s not a small attack…sir.” The word tastes of defeat, and you don’t like it.

“Good girl. How many soldiers are in the attack, then?”

This, however, is something you don’t wish to disclose to Levi. Instead, you keep silent, not opting for insults or submission.

After multiple spanks with the flat of his sword, working his way up to forty, you still bite down on your lip, not daring to divulge anymore information. It hurts beyond words, an unparalleled type of excruciating flame in your skin, yet you force yourself to keep quiet, to shove the sob trying to climb out of your throat all the way down.

Then, the strikes come to a halt, and you breathe with relief. You look over your shoulder at him, panting from the harsh punishment. All the captain does is drop his sword and walk up behind you, hands rustling against the buttons of his white pants.

You feel him part your cheeks with both hands, and you try to drag yourself away from him.

“Wait, no, what are you doing?! Get off of me!”

“I told you already that I have a list of methods I’d like to try out and all the time in the world to spend focusing on you.”

He impales you with his cock in one sharp thrust, using the blood on your pretty little cunt as lube to slip in easily. He doesn’t give a fuck if you want this or not, but he doesn’t like a dry pussy.

Levi grabs you by your hips, digging his fingers into your soft and exposed flesh. He clutches you harshly, drawing your hips into him, pushing you away only to bring them back again. The rough handling is sure to leave bruises on you once he’s done.

His cock goes in deeper and deeper, driving forward like a plow. You can feel him pressing against that spot in your tummy, and you look down, watching a bulge in your lower stomach form. You cry out, not sure if you want him to stop because of how good this is feeling.

Maybe, you’d want him to stop if he wasn’t making you feel this blissed out, but the short man has something to make up for his height in his pants, and your tongue hangs out for him. You part your legs farther, allowing him to get in there even deeper.

“Do you think you’re the first brat I’ve met? The first one I’ve had to deal with?” His arm wraps around your neck, cutting your air supply off somewhat. “I know what you need, same as every other little shit I’ve had to deal with.”

He presses his thumb against your tight asshole and spurs it inside.

It feels weird at first, but you can’t say you don’t like it. It’s just different, makes you squirm on his dick and digit, makes you wet despite the blood pouring from the cut on your swollen slit.

“Fuck, Levi, sir!”

“Yeah, fucking sir is right. Who’s your sir?”

“You! You’re my sir!”

His ministrations stop, and you whine as he pulls out. He wipes his thumb off on your thigh, making a show of it. He stands there, completely nude, and fuck it’s like an artist created him.

Though short in stature, he’s chiseled to perfection. Strong arms and abs, even his thighs are muscular. And what’s between them has you drooling. A long and hard cock with a fat and pink mushroom tip, curved upwards.

His fingers find your locks, now wet with sweat. He pulls you in close and gazes at you with dark and stormy skies. “How many soldiers are going to be deployed for the upcoming attack?”

“A thousand, sir! Please?”

You’re so cock hungry for him to fill you up. You’ll do anything to get him back in between your legs.

“When is it going to take place?”

You whine blatantly to his face. “Please?!”

He tsks and slaps your wet cunt. “Answer my question.”

“The 19th! Sir…please?”

“How do they plan to attack? An invasion? Gorilla warfare? Flanking? Are they going to try to bomb our camp?”

You rub your thighs together in a needy manner. “Bombing and surrounding the camp. They want to strike you during the night at one am.”

Levi lets go of your tresses. “Anything else I should know?”

You lean into his touch. “They plan to cut off your food supply too.”

“How?”

“Please, sir, I need-“

You feel his fingers ghost your clit. It’s a light touch, but you can still feel it.

“Tell me what I need to know, and I’ll do more than just touch this pretty pussy.”

You explain how they plan to deny their food access, and for your good behavior, Levi rewards you with what you’ve been begging for. He presses his chest against yours, holding you up by your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist. He fucks into you, letting you bounce on his cock as he absolutely ruins you, stomping on your pride during the process.

“Sir, please! Please, oh fuck!” You cry into the air, panting and whining as he stretches you out on his hard length. It’s so good, too good to be real. Are you dreaming? You feel light as a sense of relief washes over you. Slumping against him, you wish you could wrap your arms around his shoulders. You’re not sure of what just happened, but you want him to do it again.

Sure enough, he does. He has you collapsing against him over and over, each time making you feel dizzier than the last. He goes on, withholding his own orgasm each time in order to overstimulate you into a submissive little girl for him, a cute little thing with your tongue hanging out and drool dripping down your chin. That’s the beautiful sight he wants to see.

He fills you up with his own come before pulling his cock free from your tight pussy. Levi dresses himself, sheathing is sword and unchaining you from the ceiling to let you lie down on a cot. Of course, he still chains your ankles to the floor, but he’s nice enough to give your arms and shoulders a rest.

“Yeah, I think I’ll be keeping you around even after the attack is over.” He leans over your exhausted and sleeping body. You’re too numb, too conked out to even hear him. “I might just keep you after the war ends too. Sleep well, brat. You’ll need it.”

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gimmethatagustd · 1 year

Note

If you're still doing the word and number/song game.... how about the word Gentleman😏.

And song number 25 (and Yoongi ofcourse... it is always Yoongi🫠)

i was genuinely shocked that i found gentleman in any of my wips

Like a true gentleman, he let you ride out the wave squeezing him however hard you needed to until you collapsed back onto the bed.

Eat it, eat it 'til you break a sweat / Lick it all, give your all 'til you outta breath (Ah) / Eat it, eat it, eat it 'til I cum / Gimme some, gimme some 'til I'm goin' dumb

» pairing: dom!yoongi x sub!reader

» genre: BTS | 18+ | established relationship | pwp | smut

» wc/date: 1.3k | January 2023

» warnings: bondage (tied wrists and ankles with rope, but that's it) | yoongi's tongue technology obviously | overstimulation

» notes: lol the song you picked was babydoll by ari abdul, but that's the song i used as inspo for my oneshot, "babydoll", so i'm giving you a different song 😌 i got a little carried away but it's yoongi eating pussy, can you blame me???

» masterlist | AO3 | send me ur thots 👅

“What safe word do you want to use?”

“Safe word?”

“Yes, Y/N,” Yoongi huffs against the side of your neck. He bites down on your shoulder a bit too hard, and you let out a small whine of pain. “What’s your fucking safe word?”

“Do we actually need one?”

Yoongi sits back on his knees. The look he’s giving you is deadly.

You’re a bit concerned by how much it turns you on.

Your eyes flicker down to the items he’s clutching in his fists - fists he’s clenching because you’re being difficult again. That’s how you ended up here, isn’t it? The more frustrating you were, the more clothes Yoongi ripped off.

“Yes, we do.” He unravels the black rope, detangling it so you see three strips of equal length. Your stomach twists. “How about the color system? Green for good, yellow as a warning, red for a full stop?”

You nod.

“Words. Or I’m leaving.”

Ice water. That’s what his threat feels like washing down your spine. You don’t like the idea of being sprawled out naked on your bed, all riled up, just to have Yoongi leave.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“The color system is okay. We can use that,” you elaborate. It finally satisfies him, and you’re gifted a lip-bruising kiss as a reward for finally cooperating.

His lips distract you from his hands until you’ve got both arms pulled above your head. Your small sound of surprise is muffled by his tongue slipping inside your mouth, but he eventually pulls away to watch his hands as he ties your wrists to the bed frame.

“I know you said you were up for exploring anything, but I don’t want to go too hard or too far with you too soon. This type of restraint is pretty vanilla, in my opinion. It’s low-risk, simple.”

Before you can say anything, he’s already at the foot of the bed, using the longer pieces of rope to tie your ankles. The ropes keep your legs spread. You’ve got enough slack to bend your knees, but you can’t close your legs.

“How do you feel about this?” For a moment, the lust is gone. Yoongi stares up at you from between your legs with a gentleness that has you speechless.

“Y/N, color,” he tries again.

You blink a few times. “Yes, yes it’s fine. Green. It’s fine.”

You want him so bad it feels like your pussy is on fire. Your clit is throbbing so uncomfortably from the lack of stimulation, and you can feel your arousal trickle down to your ass. It’s embarrassing, but you can’t close your thighs to stop it. Resting your head back on the pillow so you can stare at the ceiling feels like the best option to hide your embarrassment. You know humiliation can be part of this type of roleplay, but you don’t think Yoongi means to do that. You’re just painfully shy around him sometimes.

Suddenly, you feel something warm and wet flick across your clit and you cry out, hips bucking up in desperation. You hadn’t even felt Yoongi’s presence between your thighs, but it almost immediately disappeared.

“Yoongi!” You gasp.

You don’t get a response other than the feeling of his warm breath on your skin again. The tip of his tongue swirls along the inside of your thigh.

He takes a bite, tongue swirling your skin again as though he’s soothing you through the pain. Earlier, he’d instructed you not to look at him. It makes everything more exciting; you can’t anticipate what he’s going to do.

Just when you think he’s moving to repeat his action on your other thigh, Yoongi suddenly returns to your pussy. He laps up your arousal, licking over your entrance. With a pointed tongue, he presses a bit harder against your entrance, the tip of his tongue slipping inside before he removes himself from you again.

“Ah, fuck, Yoongi. Please, Yoongi, please.” You’re practically crying, hips jerking every time you feel his breath against your skin. You’re frantic and he knows it.

Licking a stripe up your lower lips, he sucks one side into his mouth, tongue massaging your skin. The slight nibble of his teeth sends goosebumps prickling up your thighs. If your nipples weren’t already hard from Yoongi’s lips on them earlier, they certainly would be now.

“You’re fucking creamy, baby,” Yoongi groans into your pussy, and there’s something about the gravelly tone of his voice that makes you feel like you’re going to explode.

His tongue slowly circles your clit a few times before he’s suddenly lapping against it with quick, sharp motions. The point flicks against you over and over again.

He’s breathing hard; you can feel puffs of his hot breath fade cool against your burning skin. When he pulls away to catch his breath, you can see how his lips and chin practically shine with your arousal.

He quickly unties your ankles and tosses the ropes to the floor. The quick action has you lifting your head, but a low grunt makes you pause.

“Don’t you fucking lift your head,” Yoongi commands.

You swallow down a whimper, yet it’s much harder to follow instructions than you thought. Your head starts to lift immediately. You get a peek of shocking orange hair between your thighs. A stinging slap to your thigh forces your head down.

“Why don’t you listen? Hm?” His questions are snappy, but the chuckle that rumbles from his throat tells you he’s amused and not angry.

“I don’t like you bossing me around,” you mumble.

Instead of letting your legs go, he squeezes the backs of your thighs and pushes forward and up, close to lifting your ass off the bed. The new position gives him easier access to your pussy when he props himself up on his elbows.

“Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head, but you’re not sure if he’s looking at you.

“Still green,” you say with a shaky exhale as Yoongi returns to your pussy.

Now that he’s got you in this elevated position, it’s clear he’s no longer teasing you. He’s got a goal. The fast, consistent rhythm he adopts as his tongue laps at your clit is proof of that. You’re wet enough that the room fills with the sound of Yoongi’s lips sucking your clit and his tongue drawing circles and zigzags.

“Ah, ahh, fffuuck, Yoongi, fuck, don’t… don’t stop…”

You frantically pull against the rope around your wrists. He must have been worried about tying you up too tightly because you’re able to wiggle out of it. Your hands immediately dig into his messy hair. If he’s mad that you freed yourself, he doesn’t make any indication.

No one has ever managed to get you off by only their tongue. Having a finger or two in the mix is usually what pushes you over the edge, but you’re quickly realizing that Yoongi isn’t like your other partners.

With a low groan, Yoongi ruts into the mattress; you can feel each subtle thrust make the bed ram into the wall. The precise movements of his tongue, paired with the knowledge that he’s turned on by pleasuring you, are what finally make you cum. The force of it knocks the air out of you; you can’t even manage to moan, only throw your head back in a silent scream as Yoongi continues lapping at your pussy until you’re clean and trembling from overstimulation.

You let out a long hiss of a sigh when Yoongi eventually pulls away. He lets your legs drop to the side and kneels between them, a smug look on his face.

“How was it?” He’s a dick for asking and he knows it.

You open your mouth, but still, nothing comes out.

“That good, huh?” The smug look intensifies and there’s nothing you can do but try to catch your breath.

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

#min yoongi #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #spotify drabble #eat it #1dsn #kitty 🐈‍⬛#drabble request

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cycat-carisi · 23 days

Text

Take From Me My Lace

Pairing: Hetty x Trevor

Summary: Trevor learns about Hetty's most well-kept secret. (Takes place sometime before "Holes Are Bad".)

Tags/warnings: Spoilers for CBS Ghosts 3x08 "Holes Are Bad", some pg content, (implied) suicide.

Words: 1026

A/N: Heyyo! I'm new around here *waves frantically* I've been watching the show casually for 2 seasons. A rerun of the episode where Pete meets his grandkid SOLD me hard, and then the whole Tretty/H-Money affair started up, and I was a total goner, lol.

After watching "Holes Are Bad" I'm on the side that's convinced that Trevor knew. The look on his face, I think, is more sympathetic as if he's sad on her behalf that she had to reveal her secret, and not even on her own time. And when the other ghosts talk to Trevor afterwards, it feels like he's covering up what he knew.

So yeah, long story short, all of that inspired this little fic thing. I have not read any other fics in this fandom yet, but needed to get this out in the world to help kick off my full-blown obsession 😁🫶🏼

AO3: link (or below the cut!)

The pulse point just beneath her jawline.

He would never admit it out loud, but that was Trevor's favourite place to kiss Hetty. He loved that spot because his tender touch would send her eyes fluttering shut amidst hushed moans.

At first Hetty was apprehensive when Trevor's lips would trail close to the intricate neckline of her dress. Yet, as their relationship progressed, Hetty allowed Trevor to explore more and more of the places she had never let anyone else reach.

Still, most nights she would redirect Trevor's affections when his lips strayed even a little too far down towards the lacy seam. Trevor initially wrote off the abrupt change simply as Hetty's insatiable passion taking over, until one night he finally learned the truth.

"Mmm, Trevor," Hetty sighs, her voice heavy with sleep. Limbs tangled with hers, Trevor continues his ministrations, enjoying the feel of her soft murmurs echoing under his lips. "Ready for round two, are we?" quips the Victorian woman as she rouses from her slumber.

"Just lemme make you feel good instead," Trevor insists as he finds the spot beneath Hetty's ear that makes her keen.

She instantly gives in when his hand trails up the front of her corset, arriving to cradle her face. His thumb rubs delicately along the apple of her cheek while Trevor leans overtop his lover to place a languid kiss to her plush lips.

Hetty arches into the kiss, groaning when Trevor begins to trail his lips down to her pulse point. One of her hands grips his shoulder while the other seeks purchase in his styled hair. "Don't stop," she whispers when Trevor suckles lightly on the tender flesh beneath her jawline. And who is he to say no?

Trevor moves his lips inch by tantalizing inch along her neck, pausing to nip and lave his tongue over her ivory skin. He works further down towards the delicate lacework, and this time, without realization, Hetty tilts her head back to grant her lover greater access.

With her fiery red tresses pressed into the pillow, Trevor takes advantage, soothing her features with his thumb and slowly navigating his fingertips underneath the lace.

He feels it at the same time that she does.

Hetty's bright eyes fly open. She recoils, panic surging through her as she scoots herself up towards the headboard.

Trevor pulls back, startled; concern is written all over his face. "Hetty," he speaks gently. "What was that?"

The Victorian woman's vision turns glassy. She has kept her secret for so long, and now she has slipped up. She could lie. She could run. She could get angry at her pantless, horny lover. But she knows that none of those options would be fair. She is just as responsible for their affair as he is, and she concedes that this moment was ultimately inevitable.

Hetty swallows hard; fear and something akin to defeat are etched deep into her features.

Trevor leans in cautiously, his hand coming to rest reassuringly upon her clothed thigh. He sits patiently, waiting for her to be ready to speak.

"Ohh hoo," she exhales shakily, shifting to sit up further. His dark eyes never leave hers as she does. Except instead of speaking, Hetty simply reaches upwards, and her nimble fingers work to roll down the lacy fabric.

Trevor's brows pinch, and his heart sinks when the bruises and golden cord come into view.

Hetty scrunches her eyes closed, bracing herself for judgement–for Trevor to draw back in disgust. Instead, a soft voice engulfs her. "Oh, darling, I'm so sorry."

What Hetty sees when she opens her eyes is a handsome face laden with tenderness. There is no aversion, only warmth. And so, Hetty Woodstone, for the first time in the 120 years since her death, confesses the truth surrounding that fateful day.

Trevor listens attentively as the headstrong woman he is familiar with suddenly becomes so vulnerable, revealing her shame and deepest regrets. And as he takes in her words, Trevor feels privileged that Hetty–his Hetty–trusts him enough to bear her soul to him in this way.

Trevor allows her to speak until she has said all that she needs to. And somehow, Hetty finds her hands in his–an anchor to keep her from drifting away.

"Thank you, Trevor," she concludes, voice low and crestfallen. "Thank you for listening."

"You don't have to thank me, Hetty," Trevor soothes. "I just wish you had told me sooner so I could’ve been here for you."

Hetty gazes deeply into Trevor's eyes. Details leading up to his own death had been a secretive topic for the man who hides his compassion beneath a frat-boy persona. Hetty came to understand that part of him, and now Trevor is privy to a similar part of her. "You are here now, and that is more than I could ask for," she replies with a small smile.

Trevor nods, bringing the back of her hand up to his lips.

"Just… please don't let on you know." Hetty whispers, her eyes brimming with the desperation of her plea.

Trevor gives her hands a gentle squeeze. "Your secret is safe with me."

The pair's gazes fix as they drink one another in. The moment is raw, unveiling, and somehow deeply intimate.

Hetty's eyes fall to Trevor's lips. She begins to tilt her body toward his when Trevor decides to break the silence. He wants to hold her, wants to whisper sweet nothings in her ear, and to kiss away the pain she has locked deep inside herself. Instead, he murmurs, "Does it still hurt?"

Hetty feels Trevor’s breath tickle her lips. She pauses for a moment before answering solemnly. "A dull ache that never truly leaves."

Hetty nods, and Trevor slowly closes the distance between them. His nose grazes against her jawline before warm lips softly meet the bruises encircling her neck. Trevor's movements are gentle; there is no lust, only affection, and something that borders on the line of love.

Trevor draws nearer. "May I?" He asks, eyelashes flickering as he drags his gaze between her collar and the ocean swirls of her irises.

Feedback is loved 🥰

#cbs ghosts #ghosts cbs #hetty woodstone #trevor lefkowitz #h-money #tretty #hetty x trevor #ghosts spoilers #cbs ghosts spoilers #im terrible at editing pictures so yeah deal with that header image lol #trevor x hetty #my fanfic

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kandisheek · 1 month

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FIC REC WEEK 18 – CREATURE FIC

Fangbait by FestiveFerret

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 5,396 Tags: Vampire Steve, One Night Stand, Blood Play

Summary: There's only one reason Tony would go to a bar like this, dressed the way he is: fangbait.

Reasons why I love it: The whole concept of humans specifically going out to get picked up by vampires is really great. And Tony obviously knows what he's doing, which I love, because confidence is sexy as hell. But so is Steve when he's fumbling every step of the way until he hits familiar ground and gives Tony the night of his life. I love this fic so much, and I bet you will too, so please go and check it out!

Best Time of the Month by Onetruesikorsky

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 4,243 Tags: Capwolf, Knotting, PWP

Summary: Original prompt was: There are some really great capwolf fics out there, but can someone give me Tony getting down and dirty with Capwolf? Knotting not optional. So, yeah. This is Tony happily getting down and dirty with Capwolf. And knotting.

Reasons why I love it: The fact that Tony trusts Steve enough to sleep with him when he's in his wolf form speaks for itself. And Capwolf is adorable in his impatience and yet infinite care when it comes to Tony. This fic is insanely hot and surprisingly sweet, so if you love Capwolf, you're going to enjoy this one!

If the Water's Still Flowing by Sineala

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 8,106 Tags: Merman Steve, Interspecies Sex, Fluff and Smut

Summary: When a flight test of Tony's new Iron Man suit model sends him plunging into the depths of the Atlantic, rescue comes from the most unlikely of sources. Tony had thought mermaids were fictional, but this man is very, very real. And Tony certainly never expected the merman to be handsome... and the attraction to be mutual.

Reasons why I love it: Steve is so goddamn cute as a merman, holy shit. I love the exploration of his and Tony's cultural differences and how it translates into them having sex. It's really sweet how they keep accommodating each other until they find a way to be together. And Steve getting all hot and bothered over French kisses is so fucking cute, oh my god, I love him. Definitely go and read this one, it's so much fun!

Protecting What's Mine by ATOASTBW

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 8,391 Tags: Vampire Tony, Werewolf Steve, Mating Cycles

Summary: Despite being a vampire and a werewolf, Tony and Steve have overcome the odds to become best friends, and for the past six hundred years, that's all they have been: friends; nothing more, nothing less. That is, until Steve experiences a problem with one of his ruts, and being his best friend (and definitely not because he's attracted to Steve), Tony decides to help him out. However, the issues go much deeper than that of just sex, and the two are finally forced to face the true nature of their relationship.

Reasons why I love it: Steve pining after Tony for literally half a millennium and resigning himself to suffering in silence makes so much sense for his character, but holy shit, I just want to smush their face together! I love how in control Steve is throughout his rut, and how he makes sure that Tony is okay at all times. And the fluff at the end is absolute perfection. I hope you check this one out, because it's wonderful!

Turn Around (Three Times Before Lying Down) by kellifer_fic

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 15,573 Tags: Werewolves, Action/Adventure, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Everyone knows that Tony Stark is a playboy, billionaire philanthropist, but what they don’t know is that he’s also a werewolf. When a government agency known as SHIELD finds out, they use this information to force Tony’s hand and bring him into a new elite lycan field team, codename The Avengers Initiative. Suddenly Tony finds himself playing host to a bunch of lycans, a misplaced God of Thunder and an experimental supersoldier that isn’t as dead as everyone assumed. Can his week get any worse?

Reasons why I love it: My heart just bleeds for Steve in this one. The sentiment of being in between two groups, never really belonging to either, really hit home for me. And it's so lovely to see the pack bond form between the Avengers, especially because getting there is such a journey for them. This fic is amazing, and I highly recommend you read it for yourself!

#marvel #stony #fanfic #ficrec #fic rec #fanfic rec #a year in fanfic recs #werewolves #vampires

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georgiebrits · 6 months

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Comfort in your arms - Min Yoongi

You enter your best friend Yoongi's apartment, tears still streaming down your face. He greets you with a loving hug and offers you a seat. You explain the situation between you and your cheating boyfriend. Yoongi's anger flares up on your behalf, but he quickly calms down and pulls you into his lap. You rest your head on his chest as he rubs soothing circles on your back. His warmth and gentle touch soothe your broken heart.

“You were right. He’s terrible, how can I ever find someone with this poor judgment.”

Yoongi brushes a strand of hair from your face and says, "Don't be so hard on yourself. You can't control someone else's actions. But you can control how you react. And right now, you're reacting in the best way possible. You're surrounding yourself with people who love and support you."

“I really wouldn’t know what to do without you”

Yoongi kisses your forehead tenderly and whispers, "You'll never have to find out. I'm here for you, no matter what. Always." He pulls you in for another tight embrace, holding you until you're ready to face the world again.

Yoongi looks at you and says firmly, "Don't belittle yourself like that. You're an amazing person, and you deserve someone who treats you like a queen. Someone who sees how special you are and cherishes you. And if that person isn't your ex-boyfriend, then so be it. You'll find someone who is right for you."

Yoongi notices your glance and locks eyes with you. He sees the uncertainty in your gaze and takes your hand in his own. "I can't predict the future, but what I do know is that I care for you deeply. Whatever happens, I want to be here for you. If that means being your friend, then I'll be the best damn friend you've ever had. But if you ever want to explore something more, well... I'm just saying that the option is there." He gives you a loving smile, hoping to put your worries at ease.

You lean in and press your lips to Yoongi's, pouring all your emotions into the kiss. You feel Yoongi's hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. The kiss is soft at first, but then it deepens as the passion between you two intensifies. You both pull away, looking into each other's eyes, and Yoongi gently brushes his thumb over your cheek. "Are you sure about this?" he asks, wanting to make sure you're not just acting on impulse because of your recent heartbreak.

“Never been more sure in my life”

Yoongi smiles and pulls you in for another kiss, deeper and more intense than before. His hands roam over your body, pulling at your clothes. You start to undress each other, eager to feel each other's skin. The air is thick with tension and desire as you both give in to the moment, knowing that this is what you both want.

As your bodies become one, you feel a sense of completeness that you've never experienced before. It's as if all the pain and heartbreak you've ever felt has led you to this very moment, with Yoongi. The love and passion that pour out of your bodies is unlike anything you've ever experienced. You're both lost in the moment, forgetting about everything else in the world except for each other. It's clear that this is where you belong, with each other.

You eagerly begin to help him undress, the anticipation of what's to come driving you wild with desire. With each article of clothing that falls away, your hunger for each other grows stronger. You want nothing more than to lose yourself in the moment and to feel him closer to you. As he finally sheds his last piece of clothing, you can't help but admire his body. It's clear that he takes care of himself, and the sight of him naked before you only fuels your desire even more.

“You are mine”

As you whisper those words to him, you feel a sense of possession wash over you. It's as if he now belongs to you completely, and there's nothing you wouldn't do to make him yours. The thought of him being with anyone else fills you with jealousy, but you quickly push those thoughts to the back of your mind. Right now, all that matters is the two of you, together in this moment.

As he hovers over you, you can feel the heat emanating from his body, and you know that he's just as eager as you are to be inside you. Without any hesitation, he wastes no time in trying to enter you, his hands gripping your hips firmly. The mix of pain and pleasure as he enters you makes you gasp for air, but you're not ready for him to slow down. You want more, and you let him know it with each moan and whimper that escapes your lips.

The buildup of the situation was so intense that it didn't take long for both of you to reach climax. The sensations were overwhelming, and you couldn't believe how good it felt. It was like this was a completely new feeling that you had never experienced before. As you both let out intense moans of pleasure, you can feel Yoongi's breath against your ear, and it sends shivers down your spine. You've never been more in tune with someone, and it's an incredible feeling. Exhausted and gasping for air, you both collapse onto the bed, feeling fulfilled and satisfied.

"Please, never leave me," you whisper to Yoongi as you're both still catching your breath. He looks at you tenderly and brushes a strand of hair away from your face. "I'll never leave you," he says, his voice full of conviction. "I'll be here for you, no matter what happens." His words comfort you, and you both lay there, his arms wrapped around you as you drift into a peaceful sleep.

#smut #x reader #imagine #bts smut #bts #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut

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sirdindjarin · 1 year

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The Choice - (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

After returning Grogu to his kind, the Mandalorian must also face the consequences of his bounty hunting. Or:Din Djarin Has Two Very Bad Days.

The Savior / The Concession / The Choice (END)

AO3 Link

A/N: Canon-divergent - Grogu is saved at the Seeing Stone. Citing again my same sources from The Concession.

TAGS: two smut scenes, helmet stays on, helmet comes off, child neglect lmao (din trusts grogu not to get into trouble way too much), angst, fluff, light torture lol, allusions to sex, P in V, rough-ish P in V.

MAY THE FOURTH BE WITH YOU

It happened slowly. The change that the Mandalorian wrought in you, though dramatic, was one born of love and patience. While he had always detested your acting like a servant to him, now you were banned from even feeling like a lesser lifeform. Din insisted you learn whatever he could teach you. You needed to know how to protect yourself, and how to trust yourself. He had even demanded that you learn to control the Razor Crest. That had been a scary day.

Day by day, you began to see yourself through the Mandalorian’s eyes. Self-esteem through your own merit bloomed, and it was the encouragement of Din Djarin that watered the soil.

Once, during a particularly grueling training session, Din saw defeat darken your eyes though he hadn't yet won.

“No. Don’t do that,” his modulator flatly stated as he relaxed his posture.

A caught breath later, you'd asked what he meant.

“Don’t concede the fight before it ends.”

“You’re going to win. I’m terrible with strategy.”

“Then rely on your strengths. You are quick. Resourceful. Don’t give up again.”

He had waited, patient and calm, until he saw the fire return to your eyes, and then he sprung at you.

Your favorite weapon was the smooth beskar spear Din had been gifted by the Jedi he’d met. It was hard to hide your admiration of it. An ideal weapon for you, it was your frequent choice during your sparring matches. You’re grateful Din even allowed you to touch it. But Din was far from offended by your fascination and talent with the spear; he found it turned him on, actually.

Days spent sparring always ended in another, more intimate, type of physical activity. Sometimes, such as the day he watched you give up, it was tender and slow. Sometimes it was as desperate and aggressive as the first time he had taken you for himself. You loved both.

Tonight, after he eases himself from you and tucks you in his lean arms in the dark, he is quiet. Though Din was often contemplative after lying with you, this silence has the strain of anxiety. It sets you on edge. You let him drift through his own mind until finally his low voice fills the tiny room.

“As a Mandalorian, removing my helmet is forbidden. While I have technically broken this rule, you have not seen my face.” It's obvious he's thought about this in depth; the tone of his voice is rich with unseen emotion. “That intimacy is reserved for committed partners. For those who share in a riduurok.”

You don’t mean to tense up, but his seriousness forces every fiber of your body to listen, to absorb his words.

“You okay?” He murmurs when he feels it.

You nod on his chest, so he continues.

“When a Mandalorian removes their helmet for another, they are asking that a decision be made. You have known me as no one has. When my helmet is removed, free of all impediments, then will I be asking that same question.”

What decision was there to make? To explore your options? You’ve been enslaved for most of your life, but even you can see that this - this with him - is as good as life gets. There was nothing more you could ask for, let alone want. If you were going to tie yourself to anyone, it would be Din Djarin - a man of sheer will, loyalty, and an Outer Rim type of honor. Your body relaxes.

“I understand. If that moment comes, I’ll have an answer.”

“It is not a question of ‘if,’” he states, his sultry voice full of restrained feeling.

You can’t see him, but still your head tilts up to his face. You let your fingers drag through the patches of hair along his jawline, and then you press a kiss to his pulse point on his neck.

“I mean, I can give you my answer now… if you’d like?” He can hear the smile in your voice.

His muscled arm pulls you tighter against him, as though your answer might be no. You hear Din’s hair scratch on the durasteel wall as he shakes his head.

“I don’t mean to rush you. I only wanted you to understand the way I will do this.”

The room quiets again as you trace his lips, then his throat, then lower. Small bumps appear on his skin, and you brush over them.

“I’ll never understand why this feels as good as it does,” he sighs contentedly. “All we are doing is touching.”

Agreeing, you laugh, “I don’t either. But I never want it to end.”

“Good,” Din gruffly replies.

___________________________________

The Mandalorian feels the time slipping through his grip. Too many weeks had passed since his meeting with the Jedi. The Seeing Stone awaits Grogu. Determined to do right by the child and his creed, Din finally navigates to Tython. You watch from the Razor Crest as Din cautiously sets Grogu upon the Stone. Din waits. You wait.

For hours Grogu sits there, consumed by the blue light around him, reaching out. When the sun begins to meet the rocky horizon, Din treks back to the Razor Crest to check on you, and that’s when everything falls apart.

***

As you lean forward in the cockpit of the Razor Crest, the Mandalorian swoops his creaking ship down an embankment and fires upon an errant Imperial TIE fighter. You’ve been around good pilots, but Din is the best. Despite the grief you gave him for continually abusing his ship, he truly is talented.

Another TIE fighter screams past, and Din pulls the Razor Crest up from its dive. He fires two blasts, but his first shot was true. The TIE fighter explodes.

On the Stone below, as Din makes another pass, you can see pure Force flowing around the child. His eyes are closed.

“How much longer can this take?” You ask rhetorically. You know Din is as exasperated as you are. Probably more so.

“I tried to get him back, but the shield was too strong.”

“I don’t think that’s a shield, Din. It’s the Force.”

“Whatever it is, it won’t let me get to him,” the worry in his modulated, tired voice breaks your heart.

“In that case, at least he’s safe,” you try to reassure the Mandalorian. “If you can’t get to him, neither can the IMPs falling from the sky.”

Din presses his lips together underneath his helmet. While you have a point, he wouldn’t feel right about this until the child was back with him.

The Mandalorian has been shooting down incoming Imperial fighters for almost an hour, and he’s starting to believe it won’t end when his radar picks up a different, older spacecraft. You shoot forward, staring at the viewer.

“Is that an X-wing?” You ask incredulously. “The Republic came all the way out here?”

If it’s Republic, that means it’s low on Din’s priority list, so he pays it much less attention than the three TIE fighters that break the sound barrier above him.

You’re suddenly thrown back in your seat when the Razor Crest’s shield system rings the alarm and Din calmly spins the ship skyward, arcing over another ridge to maneuver out of the target lock of an IMP. When he banks, he yanks the thruster backward, and the TIE fighter screams by. Din wrenches on the trigger and the black craft disappears in a ball of fire.

Rising up through the flame, another black fighter barrels down on the Razor Crest. Before Din can shove the Crest into a better attack position, the third fighter flanks him. You hear the Mandalorian sigh.

From the east, red laser blasts blow apart the first TIE fighter, and then the second. The X-wing flies lazily through the debris, looping above the rock where Grogu sits.

A crackling sound pops into the cockpit of the Mandalorian’s ship, then a dignified, cheerful voice speaks.

“My name is Luke Skywalker. I’m here to help the child.”

Uncharacteristically surprised, Din had been expecting that X-wing to be carrying some stuffy officer bent on harassing him, not a kriffing Jedi.

He hits the button on the comms.

“I can’t get to the kid. He’s stuck inside that Force… shield.”

“I see him. Looks like he’s sleeping.”

Sure enough, as Din crests the hill, the blue light flowing around Grogu is gone.

“There will be no more Imperial fighters for a while. You’re safe to land.”

You make a skeptical face, wondering how the Jedi could know that. Reaching forward, you tenderly grasp Din right above his elbow. Din’s tension is greater now than while he was shooting down scores of the Empire’s best.

For the Mandalorian, that had been the easy part.

***

By the time the Mandalorian settles the Razor Crest down and the two of you race to the top of the rocky ruins, Grogu is awake. The Jedi, Luke Skywalker, is seated and clearly performing some kind of Jedi magic to read Grogu’s thoughts.

Grogu’s ears perk up and he turns from Luke when he hears the clinking footsteps of the man striding toward him. He raises his childlike arms, and Din scoops him up.

“I’m glad to see you, too, buddy.”

Grogu babbles in the cradle of Din’s arms. His head swivels to look back at Luke.

“Your young one is strong.”

Din nods, his two-toned glove on Grogu’s back. You step up behind the tall Mandalorian. Reaching around the broad man, you rub Grogu’s ears. He purrs under your affection.

Luke speaks again, “I can see he was well cared for. Grogu is very fond of you both.” He frowns. “Attachments are forbidden to Jedi. Emotion clouds our judgment. It’s best that he learn the ways of the Jedi - and when he is older, he may make his own decision.”

“Yes. I was tasked with bringing him to his own kind,” the Mandalorian’s modulator hides most of his voice, but the devastation radiates from him. He tilts his helmet down to the child.

Grogu, eyes shining, reaches up to touch Din’s helmet, expressing his feelings for the man who has protected and loved him.

“You have to go with the Jedi, pal,” Din murmurs, hating the words.

Grogu whimpers, his ears drooping, and with only a moment’s hesitation, Din begins to lift his helmet.

Inhaling sharply, you move further behind the Mandalorian and drop your gaze. This moment is between Din Djarin and his kid.

_________________________________

“Ducked in there,” you tilt your chin at the seedy cantina door.

Several members of the local crime syndicate stand outside smoking death sticks, the smoke spiraling up into the vibrant night air.

“You good?” Din asks, his hand reaching toward you protectively.

You wipe your lip free of blood, “Yeah, I should’ve seen it coming.”

“When we go in, we cir-”

“I know, Din,” you smile fondly at him.

In the past year, you’ve completed plenty of bounty jobs with him. It was easy to use the same tactics on different targets, so you’ve become familiar with the Mandalorian’s strategies. And anyway, it made sense. Of course you would flank the quarry.

Din watches, not a little besotted, as you confidently walk into the business full of slimeballs. It always ached to let you go into danger, but that was why he spent hours each week pouring his knowledge and experience into you. You’ve always been capable, strong, and as ruthless as he is. Din follows you inside.

The thumping bass and flashing lights play with your eyesight. Unlike the Mandalorian in his enhanced helmet, your eyes were susceptible to any kind of trick or weakness. You squint slightly against the glaring lights. When you sweep the room, you catch sight of Din circling around the far side of the bar. He inclines his head at you, then disappears.

One of the red strobe lights twists from the stage and into the crowd, and that’s your excuse for not seeing the quarry as it hurtles into you. They tackle you, taking you to the sticky cantina floor with a wheeze. The blue, humanoid woman lands another blow to your face before you overpower her, ripping her off you. You nimbly get to your feet, drawing your blaster. The woman grins wickedly from her seated position on the black floor, then she feints to the right.

“Stop. Stop moving,” you warn, the barrel of your blaster now pointed at her head.

The pounding music makes the quarry’s voice near inaudible, but you hear her snarl, “I know about you. You’re a karking slavegirl. Where’s your master?”

Insults had run out their efficacy on you fifteen years ago, and this weak attempt is no different. You look bored.

“Give me your wrists,” you indicate with your chin. And when the woman’s eyes dart to the exit, you shift on your feet, stating, “I don’t want to blast you.”

Suddenly noticing the scuffle, a stranger looks from your pointed blaster to your face and shouts, “Hey! No officers allowed.”

“Not Republic,” your eyes stay glued to the woman on the floor. “I’m -”

Your sentence ends when the stranger - a large, Dyplotid with four eyes blinking simultaneously - wraps a massive hand around your blaster arm. You whirl, trying to break his hold, but he’s much too strong. Instead, he curls his arm around your throat and squeezes. Your eyes refocus as you watch the quarry sprint to the door.

A man, his armor reflecting the rotating colored lights, lunges at the quarry, gripping her arm. Using her own momentum, he flips her onto the floor and snaps binders around her wrists. It’s then that he looks up to see why you had allowed her to get so far.

Abandoning the quarry, Din strides powerfully forward, his steel gaze locked onto the Dyplotid, when its head jerks.

A hole burns through its arm, and the Dyplotid stumbles back, clutching and screaming at it. You let the blaster fall away from where you'd placed it against his arm. Shaking your head in annoyance, you look up at your partner. Din carefully, wordlessly, raises your chin, looking you over.

“Let’s just get her out of here,” you grouse.

***

In the cockpit, while Din freezes the quarry, you begin the takeoff cycle. Grumbling under your breath, you mentally poke at yourself over your failure with the quarry. Muffled steps echo as Din climbs the ladder.

“You did good,” Din quietly praises when he reaches the top.

He swivels the pilot’s chair you sit in around to face him. He knows you’re upset. Standing, imposing as always, he watches you duck your head in shame.

“I shouldn’t have let him get so close. If I had been faster -” you stumble over your thoughts. “I’m a liability to you. I’m not a good partner if I get caught up like that.”

Din leans, his hand tilting your face upward again.

“You are not the only one who gets into fights. What matters is that you get out of them. Which you did.” His thumb presses against your lips, and his voice turns suggestive. “Would you like me to make you feel better?”

His advising words will take root and grow, but his offer is one you can’t accept. Because he can see your distress, Din would be gentle and sweet, and you don’t believe you deserve that at the moment.

“I don’t feel right about you taking care of me,” you admit. “I want you to be mad at me.”

Din’s beskar mask tilts in interest. He nods once. Your eyes drop to the grooved, durasteel floor, knowing he will leave you to your task.

The Mandalorian pulls off his gloves slowly. He tosses them on the control panel behind you where they land with a dull thud. You look up at him - a question in your eyes.

“Stand up,” his modulator orders. His chin tilts upward.

“Din -”

He leans forward a fraction, his body eclipsing all else.

“Stand."

A knot forms in your gut, and you obey him. He doesn’t back up, so you’re forced into his personal space. The Mandalorian’s hands slide underneath the bottom hem of your top, palms against your skin. His callouses leave a burning trail.

Din’s hands stop their advance on your ribcage. You know what he wants, so you lift your arms. His skin skates over yours as he rips your top over your head, leaving you exposed in his cockpit. Your eyes toss him a shy look, and Din feels something dark take over.

He grips your upper arm and pushes you over to the side panel. Din turns you to face the exterior. His hot palm lands right at the top of your spine, and he bends you over the chair. Desire coils and pools where you want him most. Your hands grasp at the bottom edge of the side windscreen.

Thank the Maker Din landed on the outskirts.

Din shoves your pants down your thighs, grunting airily as he does so. One of his rough hands comes around to grope at your breast, lazily rubbing at your peaking nipple. Moderating his strength, his boot kicks your foot to the side, allowing him to fit closer.

You can hear the rustling of his flight suit, and you clench in anticipation. A rush of wetness dampens your thighs when he thrusts his velvet length against your folds. Encouraged by your arousal, he continues.

“You wanted this,” he gruffly warns not a second before he draws back and spears his cock inside you.

From the outside of the Razor Crest, if someone stumbled past in the vast landscape, they would see your mouth agape, your body jolting, and the Mandalorian fisting your hair. They would see him slip a hand around your throat, thrusting you back onto him.

But they wouldn't hear the rhythmic slapping, the duet of pleased and desperate sounds from two drunk voices.

Your mind is numb with the plunging feeling of the Mandalorian splitting you in two. Something heavy and metallic falls to the floor, rolling away. Then Din's scruff scrapes against your spine as he hunches over you, wantonly biting and sucking at your shoulder.

His pace is intense, and if you close your eyes, hyperspace is passing through your eyelids. He grunts as you clench down on him, legs shaking. Your knees knock into the edge of the chair with each thrust. Filthy are the squelching sounds that your joining bodies make.

"D'you still-" he groans when you arch, allowing him deeper. "You still want punishment?"

It's not a real question. He was never going to deny you pleasure. This is as close as he can get to hurting you.

Din slips a hand between your legs, his fingers performing your favorite melody. You throw your head back, body locking as your orgasm builds. When the pressure shatters into bliss, your moans, your fluttering around him has Din fighting his own peak.

Arm barring your chest, his other hand cups your throat and his unveiled cheek presses against yours. You slam your eyes shut, wanting to experience every bit of his touch and ignore the temptation to look at him.

"Damn, you’re squeezing me s-" he mutters, but his words end in several rough groans as his cock pulses violently.

Cheek to cheek, his lips hang open right next to yours. He pants, his cold chestplate stinging your back, as he releases himself. Din relishes the way you whimper in tandem with each of his spurts inside you.

He drops his forehead to your shoulder and brushes his lips along the bruised skin he finds there. The two of you stay motionless for a moment, basking in it. It’s one of the best experiences you’ve yet had with him, and you’re unsurprised he came so quickly considering you did as well.

Din allows his hands to linger - he skims your chest, your sides, then gently cups your ass as he pulls himself from you. The Mandalorian's sweet, unmoderated voice cuts the silent cockpit.

"Turn around.”

Though he is uncovered, his request tells you that he's not intending on asking you anything, so you face him, eyes shut.

His soft lips pry yours open. He kisses you with sensual tenderness, as though he wasn't just ramming you against a window. His wide tongue slowly drags through your mouth, over and over, upending your sense of direction. Din's hands cradle your jaw, thumbs sliding over your cheeks.

Tears spring up behind your eyes at his care. You drift toward him, craving his steadiness. When your naked chest touches his beskar, you shiver.

"Sorry," he remembers your state.

Din lets you go and you wiggle your bottoms back up, head down. The Mandalorian crouches and picks up his helmet, replacing it.

"You did well today. I am proud of you," Din's modulator lets you know you can open your eyes. “Do not argue with me.”

He drops into the pilot's seat and finishes getting the Razor Crest ready.

You laugh, biting your lip. “No point,” you tease. “It’s only another thing I wouldn’t win.”

The Mandalorian’s head swivels to you, and after a pause, he deadpans, “You didn’t learn much just now, did you?”

You smirk at him. “You’ll have to explain it again.”

***

The Crest drifts past an exploded star. Long had it burnt out, no cause for current concern. Din Djarin simply wanted you to see it. The gas and debris that hang in spacetime manifest in purples, blues, greens, and yellows. It’s incredible - unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Sitting in your usual chair, your lips are parted slightly in awe as you take it in.

The Mandalorian has seen it before, so he watches you instead. Something heavy presses on his chest, and he can’t quite put name to it. He feels as though he weighs as much as the karking ship he pilots.

You make a comment to which he doesn’t respond, so you tear your eyes from the view outside to the view inside. He’s facing you, his shoulders hunched.

“Din, what’s wrong?” You immediately push out of your chair and reach for him.

Caressing his helmet, you frown, knowing something is brewing underneath. Sometimes, you hate that helmet. Though you know it as Din, and therefore love it for that reason, the human connection that it cuts him off from saddens you.

“Nothing is wrong,” he flatly asserts, though he’s trying to convince himself more than you.

You touch your forehead to his and he inhales sharply. You take his hands - blessedly ungloved - and settle them on your waist.

“You miss the kid,” you state gently.

Din does not allow the stinging in his eyes to become tears. He grits his teeth, then opens his mouth to allow a pained sigh to escape. Din finally identifies the weight pressing on his chest. It’s a void. You and Grogu make up his heart, and with either of you missing, the emptiness makes itself known.

“Could we not go see him?” You murmur, drawing back to look at the Mandalorian.

You smile at the thought of Grogu’s excited coos, the way his ears would perk up at Din’s voice.

The Mandalorian sits back in his chair, renewed by hope, “You're right. We should find him. Make sure the kid’s alright.”

_______________________________

Din Djarin found the location of the Jedi's training facility easily. All it took was tracking down an old Republic archive worker, bribing them to provide Grogu's implanted beacon code, and then finding a device capable of tracking such an outdated string of symbols.

It took the Mandalorian less than two days.

The new problem was that the Razor Crest suffered a hull puncture during an unforeseen meteor shower. Frustration and impatience line his back and bow his shoulders as he lands the Crest on the nearest populated planet. Repairs would take at least a day, and that was a day that could've been spent getting to the kid.

"This planet is in the same system as Charal. Where you dishonestly obtained a room for us."

You laugh, "I remember that planet for an entirely different reason."

The T-shaped, black slit turns to observe you.

You oblige him with an explanation, "It was the first time you touched me."

But Din was already smirking underneath his helmet.

"I remember."

***

Walking alongside and slightly behind the Mandalorian, you hide your grin at the way he parts a crowd. You watch as people eye him as a danger, and others eye him as an object of interest. For all his social isolation, he drew attention like a tractor beam with that swaggering confidence and gleaming beskar.

And he was all yours.

You wait a few steps away while Din trades credits for some type of food you’re unfamiliar with. The Twi’lek vendor actually bats her eyes at the Mandalorian. When he drops the credits in her hand, she stumbles over her words when his glove contacts her skin. From a distance, you grimace - whether in embarrassment for her or irritation on your part, you’re uncertain.

Seemingly oblivious to the Twi’lek’s distress, Din wordlessly rejoins you, touching your elbow to indicate his presence. It wasn't that he didn't notice the attention, it was that he didn't care. Though you never doubted the man raised on devotion and respect, it was a balm to your disquiet soul that you could trust him in every way imaginable.

A few minutes later, he abruptly swivels his head to you, “I have something I need to do. I’ll find you.”

The fingers on Din’s right hand twitch as though he wants to touch you, but something tells him not to. The Mandalorian could never be certain whose eyes were watching. Instead, he bows his helmet solemnly at you, and disappears down a narrow alley.

Din had mentioned a task earlier, so his departure was expected; but now you had to face the thronging marketplace by yourself. The last time you were alone amongst a crowd, you were running for your life from a frothing bounty hunter on Niamos.

While Din had bought food for the two of you, your goal is to get the little womp rat something. So, you straighten your shoulders and stroll down the busy venue.

Your attention is fully focused on sorting through the unreadable languages, garish banners, and hot smells to find something that Grogu might like when the hair on the back of your neck rises. Swearing you felt a puff of air on your skin, you furtively search, but the milling crowd gives nothing away.

So many eyes and yet none of them seem to be looking at you. Continuing past several chrono traders, you slink down a peaceful side street. It’s shaded from the pinkish sun by balconies and overhangings.

Forcing yourself to relax, you lean against the smooth, exterior metal wall and close your eyes. You let your mind wander back out into the mass of lifeforms, wondering who had gotten close enough to feel their breath. You try to absorb any shred of detail you can hear or remember.

Your eyes snap open when you realize, with a self-conscious scoff, that you’re imitating the way Grogu reaches out with his mind. But something is wrong. Something is coming. Angling your body to peek around the corner, your eyes frantically search the crowd.

Where is Din?

Before you can finish worrying about the Mandalorian, a hand slaps across your mouth, effectively silencing your startled yelp. Then another hand, cold, immutable metal, manages to snag both of your hands behind you. Thrashing, you jerk your head around, vainly hoping Din decided to play a cruel joke. Instead, a female cyborg grins maliciously down at you.

You allow her to drag you away from the mass of innocent people, fighting convincingly the entire way. She smells like unwashed armpits and oil. It’s foul and you fight a gag as her arm winches your throat.

Once out of sight of innocent bystanders, you suddenly drop all of your body weight to your knees, and she toddles off-balance. Thrusting your shoulders forward, you throw her over you. She lands with a guh! as the wind is knocked from her.

Able to assess the threat now, you take stock of her cybernetic left arm, waist, and left leg. Her right arm, right leg, chest, and most of her face are still flesh. The cyborg snarls at you and rolls to her hands and knees, preparing to spring at you, when you draw your blaster and fire from your hip. A move Din made you practice daily.

A pathetic, horrible sound issues from the woman as the blaster bolt burns through her right eye and she falls to the ground, smoking.

***

As he struts back through the town, the Mandalorian weighs the small package in his hand with contentment. Though you had loved that beskar spear, the Armorer was right: it was far too dangerous a weapon, and it could serve a greater purpose.

Din is thrilled with his deception. There hadn’t been any damages to the Razor Crest - well, not any that couldn’t wait a little while. Din simply needed a reason to land on this planet and find his Covert without you asking him a thousand questions.

Now, his task is complete. Grogu will have something to keep him safe and remember Din by, and you’ll have… the Mandalorian’s smirk falters a little when his thoughts consider your reaction to what he had made for you. He rarely second guesses himself, if ever. But this is territory he never considered.

All at once, he notices that people seem nervous for a reason other than him; he can hear the hushed whispers between friends. Din’s keen ears latch on to the word ‘abducted.’ His heart rate kicks up.

He tucks the small package of gifts into the pocket behind his belt, and lengthens his stride. The Mandalorian flicks on his heat sensors, but there’s too many warm-blooded species swirling about, and he growls as he flicks it back off.

To Din’s left, two booths set up to sell chronos are quickly packing their wares away; they look considerably more afraid than the rest of the crowd.

“What happened here?” Din demands of the closest shopkeeper, a Trandoshan.

The chrono seller winces as a Mandalorian stalks toward him, and rapidly answers: “A girl was abducted. Right there -” he jerks his hand to the side, pointing at the alleyway next to his booth.

“What did you see?” Din isn’t threatening the Trandoshan, but his quiet, forceful voice certainly sounds like it.

“I- I don’t want to get too inv-”

Din’s body language shifts ever so slightly. He cocks his head; and that’s all the Trandoshan needs to restart his sentence.

“Human girl. She was being dragged off by a karking cyborg. It was terrifying; I tried to help her but the thing was too big,” the giant lizard’s words flow so fast, they blur as though he took a shot of spotchka before answering.

Din lurches past the vendor before he finishes his second sentence. Though the Mandalorian has no proof you are the girl in question, the knot in his gut and the hollowness in his chest tell him all he needs to know.

Heat sensors back on his viewscreen, Din follows the yellowing, fading trail. The tunnel-like road is utterly quiet; it’s clear it’s a residential street, but there isn’t a soul to be seen.

The trail ends in an expansive lot. It’s a confusing tangle of heat signatures in the dust, and Din can’t make out exactly what happened. He switches the sensor off again and crouches to examine the footprints himself.

Someone had been dragged. Din looks up and to his right. A small ship idles on the far edge of the field. Scanning the ship, he identifies two lifeforms - at least one is female. The Mandalorian's footsteps are quick and quiet as he approaches the small-scale freighter. The boarding ramp is down, so he slips on board.

At the far end of the cargo hold, in a pile of cargo hauling material, lies a female body. Din knows without further examination that it is not yours. Over the past year, Din Djarin had memorized every facet of you; he committed you to memory like each entry was a precious artifact. And this body is decidedly not yours.

Din switches his heat sensor back on to look for the other lifeform, but a brutal blow to his ribs sends him on his side. Din scrambles to his feet and is shocked to be staring into the face of Con Macta.

“Come to settle a score?”

The Mandalorian goes to draw his blaster, but, from behind him, the arms of the female cyborg cinch around his neck, tightening rapidly. Too quickly for Din to react, Con Macta stabs through Din's flight suit and into his bicep with a syringe. Unconsciousness steals the Mandalorian.

***

The cockpit of the Razor Crest is cold, silent.

Cara Dune’s blue face greets you with a grimace.

“It’s good to see you, but not like this. I sent his chain code to the Razor Crest. And, hey,” she frowns. “I can be there in less than a cycle.”

“In that time, I’ll have found him,” you insist. “Thank you for searching the Republic database."

"Anything for you two,” she smiles grimly and the visage fades.

You spin away from the fading hologram and begin powering up the Razor Crest's navicomputer. The hologram of the star system flickers to life in front of you. Two planets fill your vision, and on the planet adjacent to your current position, a small yellow dot blips.

Slightly taken aback that Din is no longer on the same planet, you recover quickly. It doesn't take much for you to add up all the evidence. A cyborg attacked you and now Din is on Charal.

You bring up the entry log from that cyborg job a year ago. The data screen reads in Aurebesh:

Con Macta - Stormtrooper, 607th Battalion - Missing/Killed in Action 1 ABY.

You frown. Either the database had missed an important detail, or the female cyborg was on a revenge mission. Chewing on your lower lip, you’re finally thankful Din taught you how to fly.

***

Brought to wakefulness by searing voltage in his veins, Din's jaw muscles are forced taut by the current, preventing his pained groan from escaping. His entire body tenses painfully.

Laughing cruelly, Con Macta cuts off the switch on the dirty, steel wall.

"Good afternoon, bounty hunter. Really didn’t think you’d be so easy to capture. I didn't even have to go looking for you. You thought your apprentice was on my ship, didn't you? Very touching, your affection for her."

Din doesn’t reply, too busy catching his breath.

“I sent my own lady friend to snatch her up, but your rather wily apprentice almost killed her. Say hello, Venita.”

Venita saunters toward the containment field Din is suspended in and taunts, “Hello, Mandalorian. You really were a disappointment compared to your friend.”

“You know, we never did find your real name. We found your apprentice’s, but yours seems to be kept in a secure section of Imperial files. Very interesting. And in that case, don’t worry about dying here. You’ll be going to meet them next. They pay top dollar for their bounties.”

The Mandalorian does not speak. Hanging as he was inside this energy field, there was little he could do. Whatever he’d been injected with still held him in a dazed consciousness.

“You were all bravado when last I saw you, Mandalorian. What’s changed?” Macta goads. He flips the electricity on for a second, then cuts it again. “You don’t like this? This is what you forced me back to. My maker created me here, in this filthy lab, against my will. Poor stormtroopers. We’re all pulse-cannon fodder or failed experiments.”

Din once again does not reply. Nothing he could say would change the outcome, and he damn sure wasn’t going to give Con Macta any sense of satisfaction.

The cyborg huffs. “You’re far more boring than the last time we met. I guess I’ll have to find your apprentice. That will make you lively.”

The Mandalorian forces every ounce of will he has into not reacting to that statement, but his sudden rigidity gives him away.

“I can find her, Con. Let me have another go,” Venita begs in a hiss.

The cyborg takes his demented friend by the arm, leading her out of the room.

Din can just make out his answer: “We’ll both go. If she’d blasted your real eye, you’d be dead.”

The Mandalorian growls with frustration. It’s essentially useless to struggle. Containment fields are made of pure energy. The control panel with the large, white power switch sits unhelpfully across the mid-size, gray room.

The cyborg had yet to remove Din’s helmet, thank the Mythosaur; but Din is unable to reach the vision-changing settings, so when a small, dark shadow creeps in from the steel doorway, the Mandalorian squints to hurry its focus. The light from the containment field blinds him to much of what occurs outside its glow.

The shadow moves to the control panel, and Din loosens his muscles in preparation. Tensing would only make the spasming more painful. To his great shock, the blue energy field suspending him disappears and he falls to the ground with a clang.

Groaning, still groggy and in pain, he unsteadily rises to his feet. They must’ve accidentally released him and now he had to fight. But as he continues to squint, a soft, anguished voice comes from the direction of the control panel.

“Din! Dammit, what did they do to you?”

You hurry to him, sliding your shoulder underneath his to stand him up fully.

“I’m alright. Injected me with something,” he shakes his head, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. The two of you move toward the exit. “How did you find me?”

“I ran to the Razor Crest right after I was attacked. I had a bad feeling, so I holocalled Cara to give me your chain code. Can’t have been much more than half an hour behind you.”

Underneath his helmet, Din’s eyebrows shoot upward. “You were smarter than I was,” he chuckles.

“I was terrified,” you whisper.

His arm clutches you to his side and he rubs his thumb across your hip soothingly.

Din releases you to retrieve his blaster from its place on a table. They hadn’t removed any of his other weapons; he supposes they didn’t deem it necessary. He feels a little insulted.

Suddenly remembering, Din jerks his hand to the place he’d held yours and Grogu’s gifts. Empty. He growls under his breath.

You peek around the open doorway out into the hall. Your options are left or right. Following the same way you came in, you go right.

“Those two droids,” he says it like the slur it is to him, “went this way. Stay alert.”

Two blasters are pointed down the dark hallway as you and Din skirt the circular building. It was shaped like a moisture silo - round and high. You’d set the Razor Crest down a click to the west. All you needed to do was find the busted ventilation grate you’d entered through and sprint to the ship.

In the poor light, you can’t see the object flying at you. A weight slams into your stomach, and you crumple to the floor. Unable to catch your breath, you try to duck out of the way when the gleam of a metal arm comes at your face. It stops mid-air with a dull sound, and you focus your eyes to see that the cyborg’s fist has been caught by Din’s hand.

The mechanical woman rips her arm from his grip right as he tries to grab a better hold. She disappears into the darkness. You fire your blaster in her direction and the instantaneous red beams of light creepily illuminate the hallway. It’s too brief to confirm, but at the apex of the curve, two figures seem to be lurking.

The Mandalorian is a protector; dividing his attention between you and the threat is as easy as breathing. He flips on his dark-vision, and with his other hand, he gently helps you stand. Slowly, you get to your feet, clutching your ribs.

“You okay?” His voice is clipped, worried and angry.

“Yes,” you groan.

His world lights up a sickly green. The two antagonists are at the apex of the curve, believing themselves to be hidden and waiting in ambush.

“For an ex-stormtrooper, he is extraordinarily unskilled in tactical matters,” Din whispers drily.

The pain in your torso spasms when you snort a laugh under your breath. “Can we make it out alive before you start imparting your wisdom, O God of War?”

The Mandalorian’s hand splays across your lower back in familiar affection. He keeps his eyes trained on the two cyborgs as they crouch in wait.

“They’re setting a trap for us.”

“What do we do?”

“Walk into it."

“Are you still feeling that drug in your system?”

“Yes. Start firing when I do.”

Advancing on the hidden threat, you keep your blaster at shoulder’s height, waiting for Din’s cue. Blood red light casts the hallway into faint relief as the Mandalorian’s blaster repeatedly fires. Your blaster joins his, and the two of you continue approaching the now-dodging cyborgs.

The female launches at you again, apparently very upset about her missing cybernetic eye. This time, with Din’s dark-vision, he sees it coming. The Mandalorian bumps into your blaster, preventing you from shooting him in the back, as he lunges in front of you. He catches the woman mid-air and brutally throws her to the ground.

You poke out from behind him and fire another blast at the oncoming Con Macta. His yell changes in pitch when your shot burns through his left thigh. Limping, his charge is slowed considerably.

In the split second you take to shoot at Con, the Mandalorian is kicked in the back by Venita. As she gets to her feet, Din twists and fires at her. His blast does not go through either eye, but through the center of her forehead.

Con Macta’s roar echoes throughout the building. The mechanical mixes with whatever’s left of his humanity to form an utterly hair-raising lament.

“Mandalorian, you’ll watch yours die for that.”

The cyborg steps underneath an exterior grate, and in the faint, purplish light, you can see that he had undergone further modification after the Mandalorian had taken out his bounty. Before, his entire head was flesh, now only his eyes and mouth remain uncovered. His cheeks and forehead are plated in a tan, utilitarian metal. His thin upper lip snarls.

“I also have this.” The cyborg pulls a fist-sized red and white bundle from a pouch on his hip.

Din tenses beside you.

“Let’s see what’s inside. I hadn’t gotten around to examining my spoils yet, but I’m curious what a minimalist Mandalorian could be carrying so dearly.”

As the cyborg looks down to untie the material, the Mandalorian raises his weapon and pulls the trigger. Con Macta stumbles as the bolt hits him in the arm. The package drops to the steel floor with a muffled clink.

He roars again, charging at the two of you. He dodges the Mandalorian’s blasts until finally he leaps, knocking Din to the ground. Unwilling to accidentally shoot Din, you try to get an angle on the twisting cyborg. Deciding that was no good, you finally just kick Macta’s partially-human head.

The tortured, destroyed ex-stormtrooper cries out and wobbles to the side, giving the Mandalorian an opportunity. Still pinned, Din thwacks his right leg on the ground, firing a knee rocket directly into the cybernetic back of Con Macta.

Following the ear-splitting explosion, the cyborg delivers a groaning death rattle, and slowly collapses to the ground with a resounding crash.

The Mandalorian hefts to his feet, and quickly walks to the small bundle lying on the dirty floor. He brushes it off absentmindedly, and turns to you.

"You still okay?"

Nodding, you move toward him. He holds out his hand, palm down, and jerks his head toward the exit.

__________________________________

Grogu sits on a yellow stone. His eyes are closed and his breathing is audibly shallow. His mind is focused on the incoming ship. The Jedi across from him can feel it, too.

Luke Skywalker frowns with acceptance. The child had made its choice.

***

“You’re very quiet,” you observe, hoping Din will tell you his mindset.

He doesn’t. The Mandalorian continues performing the landing cycle with rote movement, jostling slightly as the landing gear settles onto the gravel below.

“I can’t wait to see him,” you smile, peering out the glass, hoping for a glimpse of the kid. “His little face -”

“I know.”

You press your lips together in a knowledgeable smile. Din is anxious.

***

The boarding ramp lowers, and you bounce once or twice on the balls of your feet. Beside you, Din is composed except for the fingers on his right hand. As the two of you strut down the ramp, a figure in form-fitting black materializes from the treeline.

“Hello. I was expecting you sooner, actually.” Luke smiles. “You really do care for the child to have denied yourself for so long.”

The tall grass sways for a second before Grogu flips out and onto the gravel path.

“Patu!” The child begins waddling toward the Mandalorian.

Din strides forward and crouches to one knee, taking the kid into his hands.

“Hey, buddy. I missed you, too.”

Tears threaten to fall from your eyes at the blatant love in Din’s voice. Grogu reaches for the Mandalorian’s helmet, but Din does not remove it this time. He half-turns, and Grogu’s attention shifts. His childish hand raises at you, cooing.

Nearly jogging to them, you allow three stubby fingers to grasp your thumb. Pressing a kiss to his wrinkly head, you murmur an affectionate greeting. Grogu begins to purr.

“Is he happy here? Is his training going well?” Din asks the Jedi.

“Happy enough. But he is distracted. I believe Grogu has made his decision.”

Your brow furrows, “What decision?”

“Grogu has learned all he will from me. I know his feelings, sense his thoughts. They remain with his father. A life dedicated to the Jedi Order is not his path.”

“You’re saying that you won’t train him anymore?” You clarify, shocked.

“Grogu has seen both of his choices and made his decision. That decision is to return to you.”

Though you can’t see his face, your eyes turn up to the Mandalorian anyway. Your imagination serves you well enough. His eyes are surely glassy, and a soft, disbelieving smile is certainly spreading across his face.

Luke bows slightly, and turns away, walking down the path with his hands folded behind his back. In the distance, a stone hut is being built by spidery droids. You watch him go for a moment in curiosity before returning your attention to the two in front of you.

Din’s helmet tips down to look at the child. “You’re coming with us?” The hope in his voice confirms your picture of his expression.

Still aggressively purring, Grogu burrows down into the crook of Din’s arm.

The T-shaped slit tilts up to you, and you wish you had the ability to freeze the image. The Mandalorian contentedly holding his green child, looking at you with what you're sure is pure happiness.

"Let's go, then," you grin.

_________________________

Deciding that a reunion could be better savored while resting on a peaceful planet, the Mandalorian lands the Razor Crest. Gentle hills of sand roll in every direction, and, once outside the ship, the sound of ebbing water can be heard.

"This is Illen. The entire surface is made of small islands. The waterline is on the other side of that dune," Din points his chin upward.

"Is it late in the day's cycle?" You wonder, referring to the soft, golden light that illuminates the planet.

"The sun does not set here."

You raise your eyebrows in appreciation, "It's beautiful."

Din kneels, laughing under his breath at Grogu's immediate fascination with the sand.

"Kid, I have something for you."

Grogu's ears flop slightly when he looks all the way up at Din. He tilts his head in curiosity.

The Mandalorian unwraps the little bundle he'd carried with him and pulls out a child-sized chainmail shift.

"This is yours by right, Grogu. You are a Mandalorian foundling, and part of this clan."

The child seems to understand the gift he's being given. His eyes look upon his father with adoration, and his hand touches the beskar chainmail with respect.

***

Several hours later, Grogu begins to slow his excitement. His tiny mouth opens wide showing a range of even tinier teeth as he yawns.

Grogu plops down in the sand, grabbing fistfuls and letting it trickle through his fingers. Miniature crustaceans with towering, swirly shells scuttle by, fascinating the kid as he slowly starts to drift to sleep.

"He'll be busy for a while," the Mandalorian nods his head toward the ridgeline.

Traipsing through the soft, sifting sand makes your journey to the top of the dune longer than usual, but when you join Din at the top, your breath catches.

"Woah," you blink, ensuring your eyes aren't lying to you.

Gentle waves lap at the silky white sand. The ocean is a vibrant blue, contrasting beautifully with the golden tint of the sky. Purple and yellow clouds dot the horizon. The burning sun casts yours and Din's shadows far behind you.

Din gallantly holds your hand as the two of you trudge down the dune, stopping several paces from the water.

"I have something for you, too."

Tearing yourself away from the natural world, you turn to look at your own.

"What?"

Din's thumb and forefinger dig into his pocket, and he fishes out a metal pin shaped like a Mudhorn.

"You are also part of this clan, if you so wish. This does not bind you in any way, however," he assures.

You smile warmly and raise your palm for him to drop the pin onto. It's even lighter than it looks.

"Being bound to this clan is all I want," you shake your head and pin the object to your shirt. Your cheek twitches up into a lopsided smile at him.

The Mandalorian simply stares at you for a breath, enjoying the moment.

Reluctantly, he starts to speak. “While I am reminded of it: I did have something I wanted to teach you,” he unhooks his real binders from behind him. "You are going to learn how to get out of these.”

Your shoulders fall and your face is unmistakably wary. “Seriously? Can’t we have a single day without some type of exercise?”

Real binders represent a litany of bad memories. If you can avoid this, you will.

"No. And don't be afraid. You trust me."

He says it as though it's a fact. And you realize that it is. The bond of trust between the two of you hasn't been up for debate in a very long time. He has your best interest at heart. Always.

The Mandalorian clasps the thick metal around his own wrists, and to your immense shock, a shadow in your mind whispers something excitingly foul.

“When you’re…” Din’s words trail off when he notices something. The blank face of the beskar helmet tilts. “Your heart is racing.”

"It's not," you lie.

"I’ll get you out if you’re unable to break them. You need to learn how to do this."

Din worries that your past might be causing you to fear. It was, but a more insidious idea has taken root.

"No, I know. I believe you."

Din's shoulders tense, his bound hands folded in front of him. "Then why is your heat signature rising?"

The breeze from the sea is cool, and the sun is at a perfect place in the sky to allow for a comfortable amount of warmth. Trying to understand, the Mandalorian watches as your cheeks flush, and it finally strikes him that you're embarrassed.

"This -" he pauses, truth dawning on him. "You like this, don't you?" He raises his hands.

You bite the inside of your cheek and look at the shifting ground beneath your feet.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why."

Din considers that for a moment. It wasn't hard to understand. A lifetime of servitude and bondage, you might enjoy being on the other side of it.

The Mandalorian shifts his body, his knee cocking. “If you win today, I'll see what I can do."

Your eyes widen, nerves sparking already at his voice. Then you frown.

"But I never win," you retort.

Din shrugs his shoulders.

You take a deep breath and roll your eyes, "Alright, well. Show me how."

The Mandalorian twists one of his hands, working against one of the hinges. One edge of the hinge springs up. Then, Din raises his hands above his head and jerks them down and apart with all his strength, popping the hinge. One cuff remains, but his hands are no longer constrained together.

You raise your eyebrows, impressed.

"These are a low-grade set. You won't be able to break free of the high-end binders; unless you pick their lock," he explains. "But I want you to know how to do this."

Din resets the hinge, and holds out his hand for you to take them. As your fingers close around the binders, however, the Mandalorian sweeps your leg out from underneath you.

Instinct takes over, and, though you're laughing at the change in plan, you duck into a recovering move to the side, giving yourself space from him.

He nods at you, and the fight is on. Binders still in your hand, you feint to his left. Din actually reacts, so you take advantage and charge his right.

You land a blow to his side, then grab his arm and try to set him off-balance. From the modulator, you hear him breathily laugh at your pathetic effort. He crouches and whirls you off him, sending you down onto the sand.

Scrambling onto your feet, you're laughing too hard to focus. Even without a weapon, his strength was such a formidable opponent that you'd never win.

"You can do better.”

"I can't," you snort. "Din, you're as broad as an X-wing."

He gestures like So what?

"Try again," he demands, folding his hands cockily.

Huffing, you narrow your eyes, looking for some kind of misstep. But he's just standing there - unimpressed as a karking Republic officer. Eventually, you decide on trickery; that seemed to work before.

Feinting again, Din expects you to go to the opposite side like you did last time, so he twists a little to that direction. But then you continue through on your "feinted" movement, launching at him. You come at him from below this time, grabbing and pushing at his waist, and as he bends, your leg swipes out his knee.

He grunts, rotating and falling onto his back, and you go down with him, arms still around his waist.

Din takes the opportunity, while your ankle is awkwardly underneath his knee, to wrestle on top of you. He's chuckling under his breath, clearly enjoying this.

As Din supports himself above you, you knock your elbow into the crook of his arm, causing it to give out and his body to drop to one side. He grips your waist as you roll and force him onto his back once more. A click resounds between you.

"Stop doing that," he growls at your cheap shots on his joints.

As you straddle him, he hears a second click.

The Mandalorian looks down now at his hands where they lie against your stomach. Binders lock his wrists in place. The black slit on his helmet considers you with a sigh.

"Well done,” his modulator conveys his flat, raspy tone. “I concede."

Your eyebrows draw together, mouth agape, and you place your hands on his breastplate for stability.

"You can't concede a fight you lost."

"I just showed you I can break out of these, did I not?"

"That doesn't negate my win."

Din huffs dramatically. The motion tenses his abs underneath you. Once again, you’re tempted by the way he looks right now, bound and pinned underneath you. Heat begins to pool where you sit astride him.

Suddenly, the Mandalorian lurches upward, looping his bound arms over your head and around your waist. He shifts on the sand until he's sitting up with you in his lap, your legs still sprawled around his waist.

"Can you take this off for me?" His gravelly voice asks. "My hands seem to be tied up."

There comes a lurch in your stomach that has very little to do with your position around him.

"The helmet?" You whisper.

"Yes, the helmet."

"Din, are you sure? Shouldn’t you -”

“I think it is fitting. You won and I’ve already made my decision. You make yours.”

Reverently, you place your hands on either side of his beskar face. Your fingers curl around the concave shapes that resemble cheek bones. A third Death Star could splash down into the ocean and you'd only know when the tsunami engulfed you. The weight of the moment is almost too much to bear.

The sharp edge of the helmet crests the top of his head and short, wavy, brown locks fall away from the interior. You set the helmet down beside him, and, with the gravitational pull he has on you, you can’t stop yourself from touching his face.

His face.

Huge, sensitive brown eyes look up at you, reading your reaction. His full lips pout in a way that forces you to stutter over them several times in your exploration. You’re surprised at how easy he is to read, and for a moment you believe it’s because of how well you know him, and that is much of it. But then you understand. A life behind a mask meant that he never learned to hide his expressions.

You press a gentle kiss to his angular nose; to the patch of missing hair on his jaw, oddly shaped like a heart; and finally to those unfair lips. Your hands cradle his jaw as you press your kisses, and he sighs underneath your touch.

The Mandalorian is beautiful underneath beskar and bone.

This is the first time Din has seen you without his helmet, and the weight of his gaze as it travels across your face, down your throat, and back up to your lips sets your already-taut nerves ablaze. The knot in your stomach has yet to loosen; instead, Din only twists it tighter.

Taking a liberty, you peck him on the lips shyly, drawing back almost immediately. The corner of his mouth turns upward ever so slightly and his hooded eyes pin you with a look full of deep admiration.

When you pull back, your eyes open to the true intimacy of the moment. The Mandalorian could not show you any more blatantly that he cares, that he’s yours. Bound and unhelmed under you, Din is still in control. At any moment he could break his bonds, but he chooses not to. You take a shaky breath, then surge into him again. This time, however, your lips slot between his with heated fervor.

He groans into your mouth, crushing you to him. Din reclines a few degrees onto the sand dune behind, allowing you a better position on him. Your sounds become more desperate, and Din breaks the kiss.

“Take this off,” he indicates his chestplate.

His eyes are hooded and completely on board with this new dynamic, so you comply. You bite your lip, trying not to ogle, as you carefully divest the Mandalorian of his armor. The illusion of control was yours, but he always held the power. Him choosing not to use it makes your blood boil.

When his armor is lovingly placed to the side, abandoned in the daylight, you run your hands up his chest over his flight suit. Without waiting for instruction, you unfasten it. Quietly he watches you, his arms still around your hips, and his breathing grows shallow.

You pull open his flight suit and duck to press open mouth kisses along his chest. Sparse, dark hairs curl in the center, tickling your cheeks and lips as you move.

Din groans through his nose, his eyes closing above you. At the apex of your thighs, his length twitches and thickens. You kiss along his collarbone, encouraged by his faint sounds, then suck a biting kiss on his tense neck.

A wrecked groan rips from his mouth, and his hands press into your back, egging you on. Your hips buck of their own free will as his arousal becomes hot and hard between you. His eyes roll closed when you drag along him just right, and the sight of his pleased face soaks your underwear.

“You going to run the whole show?” He murmurs. “Or would you like me to -”

Before he’s finished speaking, you retrieve the thin key for his binders, unlocking them. Pulling off his gloves and tossing the binders into the sand, he immediately skates his hands underneath your shirt, tugging it off you. When Din tosses it away, his eyes shamelessly follow his hands as they explore.

He suddenly sits forward, his arms cradling your back, and he sweeps you underneath him. His knee spreads your legs, so it’s really his own fault when your drenched, needy core rides his thigh. Looking directly into the Mandalorian’s soft eyes, you whimper; his eyes darken further, and he roughly shuffles your pants down.

Your hands fumble with the rest of his flight suit, but he shrugs out of the sleeves, tying them around his waist. He opens the codpiece area and your eyes widen. It’s not the first time you’ve had sex with him in the daylight, but those times had always been from behind. Din’s hands are already large, and yet his cock makes them look smaller. The memory of it inside you is enough to make you arch into him.

Your arms reach for his neck, and he bows over you, tenderly kissing between your breasts. He makes his way to your throat before he returns the favor, sucking a bruise into the crook of your neck. Din’s heavy erection settles against your thigh, and it throbs when you moan.

“Stop teasing,” you beg breathlessly.

“I’m not teasing. I am enjoying this,” Din says honestly.

“I really need you,” you take his face in your hands, pulling him into a desperate kiss.

The Mandalorian takes the hint. He groans; his hands grip your waist, pinning you into the sand. One hand abandons its post to drag his length through your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Brown eyes bore into yours as he lines up and, with a rough sigh, nestles the head of his cock inside you. The Mandalorian breaks eye contact to look down and grab the underside of your knee. He throws your leg up over his waist, maintaining his hold, and inch-by-inch, buries himself in your tight heat.

Watching him enter you has you teetering on the edge of an early orgasm. His eyebrows draw together and his full lips part slightly. His chin tips upward with pride when you cry yes, and his heavily-lidded eyes blaze with lust.

Adjusting to his size is simple when he’s driven you to the point of an orgasm just from insertion. You wait for him to move, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses you without agenda. You relax into him, letting him lead. He said he was enjoying this, and the more you touch him, the more you agree.

Curling your hands in his dark brown waves, you drift with the roll of his tongue and his lips. His slow sensuality seems to turn him on even more. You whine each time the Mandalorian throbs inside your body, and each time it sets your heart racing.

Eventually, when your body shakes with anticipation and sheer want, he has mercy on you. His hand leaves your knee, sliding down your thigh and between your two bodies. His thumb rubs smooth circles over your sensitive bud and you tighten around him immediately.

Whining, muscles stiffening, you lean away from his lips just to breathe, when his low, crisp voice asks earnestly, “Will you come on me like this?”

It’s the missing piece. It whips through you like a wildfire, and you bear down on his cock. He groans in his throat, enraptured, as you shake beneath him. Din takes advantage of the moment, surging forward to claim your lips.

Din drags his length out along your walls, loving your overstimulated expressions. Then, he reseats himself in a single motion, sending your body forward in the sand. You cry out, begging him for more.

The Mandalorian thrusts into you, replacing his hand around your knee and using it as leverage to please you deeper. His muscular arm settles near your face for balance. Burying you in the sand, his warm body pressing into you from above and inside, the feeling of bliss sinks into your very marrow.

Grunting, his lips lose their steady rhythm on your mouth, insteading hanging above you. Sweat shines on his forehead, his brown hair curls in the same place, and he looks at you with such admiration that you can’t stop yourself from cupping his face between your hands, kissing and worshiping every part of him you can reach.

Your second orgasm sneaks up on you. Din loops an arm around your back, pulling your chest flush with his while he works himself into you, grunting as his aching member begins to empty itself. The coase hairs between you tangle, acting as friction. The thrusting of his body nudges your clit, and the powerful shuddering of his cock in your overstimulated channel forces you right over the cliff.

Shaking in his arms, he rides it out with you, breathing rapidly into one another. Sand sticks to the both of you where you’ve perspired. Din leans his forehead against yours, whispering his affection. He kisses your nose, then carefully removes himself from your body.

You lie there for a moment, basking in it all.

“I’m too dirty to put my clothes back on,” you laugh.

“I am, too.” Din agrees.

He stands, having tucked himself back in his black flight suit. His upper torso is still uncovered, though, and you stare.

The Mandalorian holds out his hand and you take it without hesitation. He helps you stand, then begins to undress himself further, not wanting his knee rockets and boots to get waterlogged.

“You’re… going to bathe with me?” Your lips curve into a coy smile.

“Is that not obvious?” He responds drily, chucking a boot onto the beach.

“I’m not going to keep my hands to myself,” you warn in a whisper.

“Neither will I,” the Mandalorian promises.

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